I called my niece, Annie, at the University of Vermont on 9/11 to see how she was doing. I was concerned how she would be affected by such an unbelievable tragedy. At a time when she is in the process of determining her own place in the world, to have the world rendered so drastically uncertain and terrible seemed like it might be quite overwhelming. She was shocked, upset and worried just like I was, but she was also absolutely certain about one thing. She had to go to New York and do something. She didn't know what she would do, but she had to go down there and do something. When I asked her why, she said: "I have to help."
Last week Annie stood at the entrance to Firehouse 1010 directly across from the entrance to Ground Zero, looking through the gate at the scene of incomprehensible devastation and loss. She was there to help.
For the past four months, Annie has been organizing an 'Alternative Winter Break' for herself and ten other students. She got in touch with an organization called Ground Zero Food Services and arranged to have her group volunteer as food service workers to feed and comfort the relief crews who continue to sift through the wreckage of the Twin Towers. She then wrangled 11 round-trip plane tickets from a company called Jet Blue and got permission to use the 15th street apartment of a family she used to baby-sit for. She also collected donations for meal money, although most of their meals were taken care of by the food service. That meant they had a little spending money for their off-hours. After all they are college students on winter break.
About a month ago, Annie asked me if I knew anyone in town who might be able to hook her up with some free entertainment, so she could treat her crew to some fun to balance the hard work. In fact I did know somebody like that. I called Beck Lee and gave him the full story and he was instantly on board. He was impressed with Annie's initiative and naturally taken with the cause. Plus, Beck has the connections -- he knows everyone and everything that's going on and usually has a backstage pass. He wasn't sure what he could do, but he was sure he would work something out.
I spoke with Annie a few times during the week she was in New York and it was clear that she was in the midst of a life-changing experience. The work, the people, the memory of what happened, and of course the city itself gave her and her companions an indelible lesson in the tremendous adventure the world has to offer to those who dare to live with passion and courage.
At the end of the week, the group was treated to a four-star French dinner at Chez Josephine, a restaurant owned by the son of Josephine Baker, courtesy of Beck Lee. Annie said it was the best meal she's ever eaten and the owner Jean-Claude was so completely charming they wanted to take him home. It was a fitting reward for their week of service and I was extremely pleased that Beck was able to be a part of Annie's endeavor.
This week, Annie turns 21. I can't imagine a better start on her journey from dreamer to doer than the one she's given herself. The other day I was talking to my sister Cindy about her amazing daughter and we both agreed: When we grow up we want to be just like Annie.
Happy Birthday Annie.
Happy New Year to everyone.
Love, Rich
This time of year still feels a little strange here in L.A. Palm trees and mistletoe don't really go together. In fact a lot of the holiday traditions seem particularly out of place in the context of bright, sunny, 70 degree weather and Spanish mission architecture. Maybe that's because most of those traditions have come to us from Victorian England rather than from, say, first century Judea. Actually, Christmas decor in the spirit of the original Christmas (i.e., sand, palm fronds, camels...) would be quite appropriate for southern California. But Christmastime is not about being appropriate. It's about presents.
This year, since I won't be going "home for the holidays" I'm doing all of my shopping on-line. It's great, you just click on the item you want, add a few bucks for shipping, a few more bucks if you want to get it there on time, a few more bucks if you want it gift wrapped, and off it goes. Check off another name on your shopping list and within 24 hours you receive a confirmation e-mail, informing you that the item you requested is no longer in stock but is being backordered and should arrive sometime around Ground Hog Day. But it's still worth it for the convenience -- you can shop for items from virtually every store in the world and find something special for everyone on your list without ever having to leave the privacy and comfort of your office at work. You can even do it from your home!
I'm planning to catch up on some movies on my days off from work this year. The one I've been waiting for is Lord of the Rings. It's kind of a Christmas movie if you think about it: there's the magic old man with the long white beard, there's elves, there's nine demonic Ringwraiths on horseback and an army of bloodthirsty goblins. Maybe it's not that Christmassy after all.
There really haven't been too many good Christmas movies lately. I rented a couple from last year and was pretty disappointed. The Grinch was mostly pretty dumb until the last half hour when they basically just remade the original cartoon. In order to make it longer they stuck on this ridiculous backstory about the Grinch getting laughed at because he cut himself shaving, so he runs away and goes to live on top of a mountain. Say, do you think that's what happened to the Unabomber?
The other disappointment was The Family Man with Nick Cage about a guy who starts out as a rich asshole who drives a Ferrari and then wakes up as a tire salesman in New Jersey with a cute wife and cute kids and Jeremy Piven as a next door neighbor. Just when you think that he's realized that being a tire salesman is really better than being a rich asshole, he wakes up as the rich asshole again. He goes of after his long lost love and discovers... She's a rich asshole too! At the end we're left to assume that the two rich assholes live happily ever after. But what about the cute kids? And what about Jeremy Piven? Are they dead? Are they lost in a time warp somewhere in New Jersey? Only in Hollywood can they make a movie where they make you believe that being a tire salesman in Jersey is better than being rich and then turn around and tell you that being rich is O.K. too, as long as you follow your heart. Of course you have to get rich first, because everyone knows that following your heart don't pay squat.
There's really only one great Christmas movie -- the one that gets it all right and always brings a tear to the eye. The movie that has become a tradition for so many households, who gather round the TV set with a bowl of popcorn, reciting their favorite lines and sharing their favorite scenes. It's the one movie that really conveys the true spirit of Christmas without being overly sentimental or preachy. Of course you all know the one I'm talking about: National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. I'm getting all choked up just thinking about it. I think I'll go rent a copy and pop up some popcorn. I love the scene where they electrocute the cat.
Here's hoping everyone's Holidays are happy and fun. And for those of you expecting presents from me, don't worry -- they'll get there eventually.
Love, Rich
I passed another milestone this month. Turned forty-two. Ever notice how similar "milestone" is to "gravestone?" I never picked up on that before. I guess as you get older you become more aware of things like that.
A lot has happened this year. For me, one big change was deciding to make a movie. I always used to think that I wanted to be a writer. I tried writing novels for a while, then some short stories, then a couple of plays. One time I actually had some poems published in the Connecticut River Review of Poetry. You may have seen them.
I tried songwriting for a while, wrote about fifty or sixty songs, made some demo tapes and sent them around. At one time I was playing three open-mikes a week and even had a few paid gigs here and there. Perhaps the pinnacle of my musical career was playing "Levi" in Joseph and His Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for three weeks at the Stony Creek Puppethouse Theater. I sang, I danced, I played guitar and harmonica: I stole the show.
My greatest claim to fame, however came as a result of a challenge presented to me by my pal Beck Lee who dared me to enter a contest for the "Funniest Unemployed Person" at a comedy club in Manhattan. My resulting stand-up routine may not have won the contest, but it did catch the attention of a New York Times reporter, who described me as "ashen-faced" and "terror-struck." In addition to that glowing report, I was also featured in a piece by a CNN correspondent that ran repeatedly during that holiday weekend. Weren't Mom and Dad proud to see me on TV with the words "Unemployed Comic" emblazoned across the screen?
It was about that time that I read my first screenplay, "Thelma and Louise." My then roommate, Jon Sperry had left it lying around the apartment and I flipped through it, thinking "this looks easy -- I could do this!" And sure enough, a mere three and a half years later I'd already cranked out my first script. I kept at it with diligence, perseverance and deluded enthusiasm until I had churned out eight more scripts and whittled my writing time down to a phenomenal eight days! I knew it was time to move to Hollywood.
Coming out here was a turning point in my life. I had decided to dedicate myself to becoming a successful screenwriter. I took meetings, attended industry parties, made key contacts and learned how to schmooze. I followed the trades, logged onto screenwriter-oriented websites and started work on a new quirky-edgy-drama-comedy. But I still felt like I was on the outside looking in. How long would it take for these Bozos to notice me?
About a year ago I started thinking about what was holding me back. After making my way through the usual list of excuses (which is no small task) I finally came to the realization that I was holding myself back. I tried to imagine what I would be doing if I was doing what I really wanted. The answer I came up with was: making a movie.
Today I met with a guy who was temping in our office for a while. He's putting out his own CD that has a beautiful title song called "Ten Times." He saw my movie and asked me to help him make a video. We are going to begin shooting this weekend. It's not a major production by a long shot, but it's going to be pretty cool.
I guess passing "milestones" ain't so bad, it beats passing gallstones for one thing. Plus, as long as you keep moving forward there's always the possibility of encountering new stuff along the way. I don't know what I'll find between here and the next milestone. Could be something pretty cool.
Love, HWD
