“I have no future!”cried my wife perhaps a little too loudly.
Our mortified waiter mumbled some sort of apology and scurried off, returning seconds later with another two fortune cookies. Fondy actually felt bad for the guy. She’d been kidding of course but appreciated the fact that the second cookie contained an actual message, something about her needing to concentrate more in order to succeed. Exactly the type of fortune cookie note that would set my writing partner Paul off on a thunderous tirade, bitterly arguing that “advice” and “observations” do not, in fact, constitute “a fortune“. For my part, I was fairly content given that I ended up with two credible prophecies – one letting me know that my hard work was about to pay off, the other informing me that I was about to go on a trip. In the case of the latter, I‘m assuming the drive home didn‘t count and that I will soon be on my way to some exotic locale like Tokyo or Hong Kong or that area of town with all the Italian deli’s. As for the former – well, my “hard work” could be a reference to a number of things – the Atlantis script, my Universe script, that short story I’m endlessly writing, this blog, all the laundry I did last weekend – so there’s no telling how I’m going to be rewarded, but I’m expecting something truly awesome…
Perhaps to compliment the meal I’m going to win from Kerry once my Montreal Canadians advance further than her Vancouver Canucks in the NHL playoffs. Okay, okay, I admit I may have underestimated the Canucks (who swept the Blues tonight) and somewhat overestimated my hometown Habs (who are looking to scramble out of an 0 and 3 hole) but in my defense, I am occasionally delusional and susceptible to bouts of extreme denial so bear with me. To be honest, I’m actually happy my team faces the almost insurmountable task of having to win four straight games in order to advance to the next round. It’ll make their victories all the sweeter. And even still, I won’t stoop to gloating. Unlike a certain someone (who shall remain nameless) that sent me the following email yesterday morning:
“ So….. 5-1 loss, eh? ugh…. after a 4-2 clobbering on Thursday…. yikes, that must hurt. Does it hurt, Joe? I mean, I don’t want to say your team is terrible, but I’m sure you’re sweating a little here. Wait… what’s that I hear in the distance? Sounds like someone is choking over in the east coast…. can’t quite make it out…. I’m sure it’ll get louder by 7pm tonight…
In case you weren’t aware, my Canucks put on a very good show both Friday and Sunday. And we might just sweep this round, just a little fyi… you know, in case you weren’t up to speed with where my team is sitting currently… Not that I would want to rub it in or anything…
Three and O, friend, three and O.”
A little harsh, no? Now were the roles reversed, I would have been very sensitive to her feelings and shown good sportsmanship by, say, declaring us both winners because, in life (and youth sports designed to boost self-confidence and thereby imbue youngsters with wholly unrealistic expectations that will be mercilessly crushed when they inevitably enter the work force), there are no losers.
Except for the St. Louis Blues.
And maybe the Montreal Canadians.
Hey, I read the first draft of Time yesterday (Rob apparently wrote it during his free time driving to and from work every day) and it is brilliant. Now “brilliant” is a word I tend to reserve for works of supreme magnificence like Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus” or my Aunt Fannie’s Russian Teacakes, but it applies here to a script that is, without a doubt, the very best of its kind. It’s delightfully intricate and thoroughly engaging, full of surprising twists and heart-rending character moments.
And speaking of character moments – today, I read Brad’s finished version of Darkness and Light. This one has got me very excited as well, particularly for the remained climactic sequence.
After lunch, Carl, Paul, Lawren, and I headed over to the set in Stage 2 or what I’m referring to as Hoth. Brian and Justin regaled us with their interpretation of Rock ’Em Sock ’Em Robots after which we chatted until the airborne particulates threatened to choke off my airway, forcing me back out – but not before marveling over Brian’s commitment to learning everything he can about the production process. Not only does he hang around set to watch them shoot scenes he isn’t even in but, the other day, he actually accompanied Carl and co. on a location survey! Not only does this kid have a terrific attitude – polite, humble, hardworking – but he’s a fantastic actor as well. Since nobody’s perfect, I fully expect to eventually find out he’s a robot or an alien doing an all-too-good impersonation of a human life form – but hopefully that won’t happen until the end of season one at the earliest.
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