Headed to Hollywood

Alonzo is headed to the TURNER CLASSIC FILM FESTIVAL this week. Will let you know how things went,  and what I saw. I’m very excited, first film festival and first time back in Los Angeles in a very long time. Staying with my good buddy Charles, and there are so many, many great films I’d like to see. “Chinatown” being one. I remember seeing that one evening on my own, and was just blown so far away it wasn’t funny. I’ve watched many times since and even have the title music. Extremely haunting and John Huston as Faye Dunaway’s notorious father is absolutely nefarious.

I think it’s the movie (not “Easy Rider”) that made Nicholson a star.

Wiffee Nicole treated “me” to a resort getaway for my Birthday. So there we are in Northern Virginny. A cloudy evening downing some bubbly under the threat of rain. What decadence. I think I shall have champagne every evening from now until the end of time. Because of the overcast day, it looks not so green. But when it was sunny, it was a delight.







And as further celebration of my Birthday MONTH, I took a ride out to Ladew Gardens. Ladew is an incredible garden famous for it’s topiary arrangements.

Those aren’t real dogs. They’re TOPIARY. And in front of them (unseen) is a fox. You get the picture. I love riding my bike out there. It’s about 50 miles round trip. And it’s steep at times, very good workout. I enjoyed the hell out of March. It’s wonderful having a built-in excuse for every little impulse. As March faded, I found myself face to face with something I’d been putting off, but couldn’t put off any longer, “B-SIDE MAN”. It’s a one-person play about my life. Hoooooo boy. Adventurous. Sexy. Funny. Should I go on? Why “B-Side?” Because when they used to make “records” (45’s) frequently the real gems could be found on the B-Side. Off the beaten track. Unexpected. Here’s a paragraph:

“…Girls wore skirts to their ankles, and looked like gypsies. There was also some unspoken law that said women must work on pottery. Prissy city boys posed as lumberjacks. They wore plaid shirts and rolled their own cigarettes because it was manly and independent. And everyone was in love with “honest work”. Work with your hands, work with your mind, work that was pure. Work that was original and not corporate. In that first fall, I saw guys come to breakfast without shoes, but carrying a guitar. Girls seemed to fall out of bed wearing nothing but bedsheets and army boots. And there we all were. Leaves. Color. Mountains. Nature……….SPACE.”

So that’s how it sounds. More to come…….