Monday was my fortieth birthday and it passed by with little fanfare. There were some celebrations, but the main one was held in the privacy of my home with a new goomara that I've recently acquired. My co-workers took me out to Olive Garden yesterday and I got to take home the left-over salads and breadsticks. I had the shrimp primvera. The waitress paid me some complements which over the shriek of crying babies and the echoing ambience I had difficulty hearing what she was saying. Every one at my table yelled out : SHE SAYS YOU HAVE NICE HAIR and to which I responded - Y' know, I'm fucking forty, not fucking deaf. She was definitely a hot young cutie, but I must look old enough to be her dad by now. All the waitresses in the kitchen brought out a minitature chocolate cake and sang the usual Happy Birthday nails on chalkboard tune at the end of our meal. I really detest sentimental shit like that, but the cake tasted pretty cool. Anyway, the reason I decided on going to the Olive Garden as a sort of homage to the Sopranos. I've been on a real nostalgia trip watching an episode each weeknight in bated anticipation of the new fifth season that will be premiering on March 7th. I 'm holding my breath that my employers will be showing us a advance screening of the first and second episodes. They were kind enough to screen us the first two episodes of Sex And the City's final season. I'm hoping that lightning will strike again twice.
The big news this week is that I finally changed my mailing address for my personal needs and Landescape Productions. I no longer receive mail at 6358 Bellingham Ave North Hollywood, Ca; it has now been changed to:
Cary Coatney / Landescape Productions
P.O. Box 10368
Burbank, Ca 91510-0368
Please make a note of it.
Things were uncertain about the fate of the Rookies & Allstars store. One minute I was hearing that the store might survive and be sold to the kid working there and that he would have investors really to help with signing over the papers - so I figured that I wouldn't have much to worry about and the next I hear on December 31th that the deal didn't go through- people flaked at the last minute and that the doors would be closing. So I had to go and get a change in mailing address. Meanwhile, the fate of my loans and contributions I made to the store also remain uncertain. Taking the time to get notified that your mailbox application also took about a week. Now all this week and the next, I'm going to have to take time out and notify everyone whose bills I have pay by filling out those change of address cards. I also had to put aside plans in promoting the new Deposit Man book (which is listed in this month's FM Distribution catalog) since I had to wait around for the new address to kick in; i.e; scraping plans for advertising and changing my letterhead that Oliver designed. I have to notify the Comic Con International officesand tell them before they take the APE Program Guide to press of where I will be displaying next month.
I talked to a friendly set constructor on the set of Constantine this morning while I was over the studio getting breakfast. I was under the impression that the crews would be wrapping up at the end of this month, but he tells me they've still got a ways to go. I wonder if John Constantine becomes a amphibious creature in this movie or perphaps they're drudging up the Swamp Thing. This new set they're building on the really, really, big stage has another pool in it- this one, a jacuzzi. John Constantine's first appearance in the folds of the four color pages was in a issue of Swamp Thing written by Alan Moore. Quite the contrary, that new scripts based on DC/Vertigo properties are coming in my department faster than a buring opium field out in Iraq. Len Wein submitted a Swamp Thing revival script tailored to Silver Pictures and the predecessor to the Harry Potter series, Tim Hunter & The Books of Magic came in to be transcribed. This Neil Gaiman creation was once mentored by John Constantine, before J.K. Cunt Rowlings took the pleasure in plagurizing a few of these comic books and now rapes the movie adoring public in believing that she has a original idea when in fact that Tim Hunter was around five or six years ago when Harry Potter was nothing but a downtrodden little tyke with a silver magic wand up his ass.
Another of the new fall shows that I thought showed such promise, The Handler, has been sliced off the Friday night schedule. This ensemble team led by Joe Pantoliano was a sort of a cross between a modern day subtle Mission: Impossible meets the cast of 21 Jumpstreet or the Mod Squad. I found almost each episode as riveting as the last and I'm said to say that tomorrow night's episode will be the last. Besides the presence of Joey Pants, there are some excellent acting esembles lurking around in guest shots and supporting roles from shows I recognize on HBO shows such as Six Feet Under and the Sopranos.