Well, dear readers, it is the last day of November – this month flew by, like a gazelle eating leftovers whilst doing the Turkey Trot. Of course, that means that tomorrow is December, and it is my fervent hope and prayer that December will be a month filled with health, wealth, happiness, creativity, and all things bright and beautiful. December, can you believe it. Yikes and a half. Yikes on toast. Yikes to infinity and beyond. Well, we’ll talk about December when it’s December. For now, it’s November. I spent all day yesterday thinking it was today. That’s how screwed up I am, screwed up, I tell you. It was another super late night trying to fall asleep, which didn’t happen until five. I slept until noon, so seven hours of sleep. Once up, I ordered my orange chicken thing and then answered e-mails. Thankfully, spam is tapering off. Food arrived and it was more like the half orders were when I first ordered – a bit more, and it was a very good batch. Pills were taken. I tried to watch something but dozed off. And that’s become a real problem because of this stupid deep couch. No matter that I’m now using two pillows behind me, however I’m dozing off is causing me to jolt awake and have terrible phlegm and weirdness. I don’t get it, but something must be done and soon. The living room couch is perfect – not deep, very comfy and I’m sure this would not be happening on it. I suppose I could switch them out, since I rarely use the living room couch – that might just be a good idea. Anyway, I didn’t end up watching a single thing except the first twenty minutes of an atrocity called GORP, a 1980 summer camp “comedy” and perhaps the stupidest and unfunniest film ever made – completely inept. It was the second to last film before American International shut down. It was overseen and produced by Samuel Z. Arkoff’s son, Lou. And very typical of him. Little known fact is that Lou hired me to rewrite an equally inept volleyball script – girls’ volleyball, of course. I did, got paid a nice chunk of dough, and it was too funny and too good for him. It never got made, but the best gag I had got stolen by the writer of Back to School, the Rodney Dangerfield movie, and yes, my agent found out they’d read my script – so nice of them to just lift my gag wholesale, but nothing to be done about it, and I did much funnier things with it. The joke? Having the Dean of the college named Dean Martin. Of course, the premise of an adult going back to college had also been done and done better in my opinion is Blake Edwards’ High Time. Anyway – GORP – it takes place in a Jewish summer camp. The gags are so juvenile and stupid and crass that not even a five-year-old would find them funny. The main culprit are the writers, who are complete incompetents. The poor actors come off horribly. Top-billed Michael Lembeck, who was my best man at my wedding and a great friend back then, could be amusing in the right thing, but as an actor he’s always been way too surface for me, which is why he turned to directing, I think, where he had success directing many episodes of Friends. He’s made a few mediocre movies, as well.
He got the role of Mackenzie Phillips’ husband on One Day at a Time – it was him or me, and I know Mack wanted me really badly, as did a few others, but in the end Mr. Alan Rafkin, the director, pulled for Michael, and the drama with Mack ensued which led to her firing. I think I would have grounded Mack, as we had the same manager and she really liked me, and the relationship would have been more endearing, but alas, it was not to be. But GORP – Michael is awful in it but it’s not his fault – the dialogue he has to speak and the “comic” bits he has to do are just awful. The other actors come off equally badly – Philip Casnoff, Lou Wagner, Julius Harris, but none more so than Dennis Quaid – it’s amazing anyone let him do another movie after this thing, but then again no one saw it. Fran Drescher and Rosanna Arquette are also in it, and they fare no better. I finally had to shut it off. It opened in LA and shockingly got two great theaters – the Paramount and the Crest, along with a bunch of lesser theaters. But it did zero business. It HOPED to ride the coattails of the previous year’s hit, Meatballs. It had no chance because the re-released Meatballs the same day as GORP. Oops. It played one week at the Paramount and Crest, and in other theaters it immediately dropped to the bottom half of the double bills. I cannot describe how bad this thing is, but if you want to know, it’s on Prime for free. I’m sure all involved would rather forget it, except for the writers, who probably still think it’s hilarious. As to Mr. Lou Arkoff, I don’t think he’s done much since, although he did have a four-film stint at Disney. He hasn’t done anything in twenty years.
I had some pudding in the afternoon with pill two, and a patty melt later with pill three. And that was pretty much it. Other than I thought it was today instead of yesterday, which was endlessly confusing to the likes of me.
Today, I’ll be up at eleven for a telephonic call to add four bars at the top of one of the tracks for the play. It’s an easy add and should take no time at all. Otherwise, I’ll continue organizing – I got some stuff put away yesterday, which wasn’t today – I’ll hopefully pick up two important envelopes, I’ll eat, and then I can attempt to watch, listen, and relax.
Tomorrow is a short Kritzerland rehearsal and hopefully banking, Tuesday we resume rehearsals for the play, Wednesday is both Kritzerland and play. Thursday is play, Friday’s off, Saturday is play in the morning, Sunday is a short catch-up Kritzerland rehearsal and Monday I’m even older than I am now.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up by eleven for a telephonic all, hopefully pick up two important envelopes, organize, eat, then watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s free-for-all day, the day in which you dear readers get to make with the topics and we all get to post about them. So, let’s have loads of lovely topics and loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, wishing a fond farewell to November – or, as I like to put it – November, we hardly knew ye.