— I am reading Christopher Hitchens’ Hitch-22: A Memoir
— Had dinner at David and Maria’s last night, with their two girls. Mitchell is in town. It felt like old Chicago days. Maria cooking up a feast, David making Mitchell a martini (scrolling through his iPhone for a recipe, driving everyone crazy: “JUST MAKE THE DRINK”), and then ROARING laughter over the dinner table. Riotous screaming laughter, about jokes old and new. (“I have a name. It’s Lillyhammer.” Yes, you had to be there. But we all were weeping about it.) The rain poured down outside. There was one clap of thunder that was so explosive that we all jumped and screamed. I drove home through the rain with a happy singing heart.
— Speaking of happy singing hearts, Mitchell and I went to the 92nd St. Y in Tribeca on Friday night to see a screening of They All Laughed, with a QA afterwards with Peter Bogdanovich. I’m busy working on a piece about it. It was an extraordinary night. I got to meet the man who inspired me to be into movies in the first place. We spoke afterwards. Mitchell and I had a marvelous time, such a special night. Ran into many friends there, and got to finally introduce Mitchell to Keith and Dan, which was a total treat. I then drove Mitchell out to David and Maria’s and then drove back to my place, my heart singing, adrenaline buzzing through my veins. Ray had texted me, asking how it all went. We ended up talking on the phone. It was 2 in the morning at that point. So I was exhausted, but also so wired that I was thrashing about in bed, unable to settle down. At one point, I said to Ray (and I vaguely remember it, although I was so tired that the conversation is a bit blurry), “I’m just so happy. I’m so happy. I’m so happy. Happy happy happy.” I then fell asleep, I was probably falling asleep AS I was repeating “happy happy happy” and was woken up a second later by Ray’s voice, kind of laughing at me, and gentle – like he was talking to someone clearly not in her right mind, “Okay, you have to go to bed now.” My only memory of the conversation is babbling sincerely, “I’m happy I’m happy I’m happy” 5 times in a row, and then dozing off. You know what, it really says it all.
— Things are moving forward with my script, and my life is upheaval. It’s not even clear where I will be at this time next year, which is exciting, stressful, and long overdue. I could be in LA. I could be living on the beach somewhere and then flying to metropolitan areas when I need to. I probably won’t be here anymore. Not full time anyway. Odd. I’ve lived in this area for so long.
— It’s finally fall. The air is crisp, there’s a nice big wind every day, and I can hear the rustling of the tree leaves in my neighborhood through the window. As I’ve mentioned, I wilt during the summer. I just endure it. I bought new jeans, new sneakers, and did a giant purge of old clothes and books, donating them to various places. Making room, letting go of things, a shedding of an old skin.
— Been watching a lot of movies. What a shock.
— I’ve talked a lot about my love of Brendan Benson, and his new album is great. This song is my favorite one on it. I’m obsessed with it.
So happy you’re finally reading Hitch 22. It’s so great. I’ve just finished his final collection – Mortality – and the man did not lose his mojo at all, right to the end. When watching the news, I keep catching myself looking forward to reading what Hitch is going to say about Syria, or the anti free-speech riots over that silly movie, and then I remember. We need him, dammit.
I would love to read your thoughts on the memoir when you finish.
Paul – yes. I always wanted to hear what he had to say … and have missed him so much since he passed. I loved him for being strong enough to change his mind, to self-criticize, I loved him for calling a spade a spade, I loved his courage in his break with the anti-war Left (not the left Left, but the anti-war Left). And more than all of that: his facility and genius with language. He leaves me breathless!
I love the stories about Salman – in particular the game they played turning Shakespeare titles into Robert Ludlum novels.
Yes – “The Elsinore Vacillation”. Brilliant.
His writing was so good, I was surprised to learn that he felt he had no capacity for writing fiction. Know your limits, I suppose, is a sign of a true professional. And I am hoping for further posthumous collections of previously uncollected essays. In her afterword to Mortality, Carole Blue mentions returning to the apartment after her husband’s death to face piles of notes and papers that he left. He was so prolific there must be much that hasn’t been either published or collected.
And you could feel him – in a hurry – near the end. Even though he was always so prolific – you just knew he felt the time ticking towards the end. Very touching.
And he is the reason I finally bridged the gap in my education and read all of Evelyn Waugh. I could never thank him enough for that.
I love how he said that he realized early on that he wanted to be a “pamphleteer” – that was his goal, that was where he felt he could do the most good. Great word. Sniffed at, perhaps, in serious literary circles … but look at the history of pamphleteers – Tom Paine, George Orwell …
I also loved his FAIRness. How much he “loved” Susan Sontag for her defense of Salman Rushdie – and then how he was disappointed by her response to September 11. But he didn’t wipe out her greatness in the Rushdie affair … he’s not that black and white. I remember so many people at the time who had never even fucking heard of Susan Sontag or read a word she had written being all outraged over her piece in The New Yorker about 9/11 – and I said to a couple of them who showed up on my site, “Have you read her stuff on camp? Have you read her stuff on art, on literature? She is a giant figure in American letters. You sound ignorant.”
Hitchens not only gives her the props for her galvanizing effect on the Rushdie response – but credits her entirely.
One of the virtues of the old, honourable, left: loyalty. Sontag had earned his loyalty by standing up to be counted over Rushdie, and her later craziness couldn’t eclipse that for Hitch.
And I’m dying to read Rushdie’s new memoir!
S0 who is “the man who inspired me to be into movies in the first place”?
And are you considering moving to LA because “July and Half of August” will be a movie before it’s a play?
Once there, your deep movie knowledge and formidable writing ability will ensure success.
And the move may provide some opportunities for acting, as the cherry on top.
Best of luck, in everything.
devtob – Peter Bogdanovich. His films were hugely influential to me as a kid and he also inspired me to go back and discover Hawks, Ford, etc.
No, not so much movie before play. But professional opportunities – my new agent has an office out there as well as New York, and they are huge. Hollywood always needs good stories. So yeah, it’s highly possible that I’m going to be out there – maybe only a seasonal basis – but who knows at this point.
Thanks!
Be sure to get a lucky bed for your LA pied-a-terre.
I got a new bed last week in June and so far it has been very very lucky.
Hmm. That sounds totally sexual. I don’t mean it that way. At least not entirely. Once I got the new bed, all these crazy great things started happening and I joked that I should have gotten a new bed years ago.
So happy you’re happy, my friend.
Also I really need a new bed.
This new bed is so gorgeous! I’ve had a double bed my whole life. So having a queen is awesome. It’s beautiful. And it’s fall weather now – I’ve been sleeping with my head at the foot of the bed – because then I get the cool wind blowing in right on my damn head. hahaha But I love it.
Lucky new bed. I love it.