What I Want For Christmas

Dear Santa Claus,

There are only 191 shopping days until Christmas, so here's what I want:

Hillary, It's Over

Dear Senator Clinton,

Congratulations on becoming the first legitimate female candidate for President of the United States. You have definitely paved the way for young women who will follow in your footsteps to fame and success in politics, business and almost every walk of life in this country and beyond.

However, for the sake of your party and the American public the time has come for you to gracefully step aside and concede. Democratic party voters have spoken, and a large majority prefer Senator Obama as their candidate for the presidency.

It is almost statistically impossible for you to win enough pledge delegates to win the nomination. The only way you could win would be if the so-called "Super Delegates" go against the popular opinion of their districts and endorse you in favor of Mr. Obama. This would not only divide the party, it would cause a major rift among the already disenfranchised voting public.

If you continue your hopeless campaign for the Democratic nomination, spending even more of your personal fortune to compete with Obama's unprecedented fundraising, your myopic hubris will confirm to everyone that you really don't care about your party or the American public. All you care about is yourself and your lust for power.

Please do the right thing and step down before this bloody battle gets even worse. Your party needs time to heal, to unite, and to form an effective campaign against Sen. McCain, who has actually become attractive to undeclared moderates who see the Democratic party as unfocused and disorganized.

The USA needs to send a strong signal to the world that we are changing and are more willing to be a cooperative force in the world as opposed to the bullying force we've been in the past. Only Senator Obama has the ability to send this message and to fulfill the promise of hope for our nation's future.

Jews Are Weird

I think almost all religions are ridiculous and destructive, full of strange rituals and idiosyncrasies that have wrought more violence on this planet than practically any other force.  Having said that, I live in a largely Orthodox Jewish neighborhood in Los Angeles.  Every day I see neighbors walking to temple or to school dressed in their plain black suits and hats, looking almost like Amish people.  I see them walking a lot in my neighborhood since driving is discouraged, especially on the sabbath.

Today, Saturday, I was walking down the street near my home when I came upon one of the largest new houses in my neighborhood, a "ginormous" McMansion that takes up two whole corner lots.  I've always been curious to see inside and today I got my chance!  As I was passing the house, a middle-aged man wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts was standing on the sidewalk in his dark blue socks.  "Excuse me," he smiled.  "Are you Jewish?"

"No," I replied.

"Oh good," he said.  "Would you mind doing me a big favor?  We're not supposed to work or touch any electronics today and unfortunately the maid left yesterday without turning on the air conditioning.  Could you come inside and turn it on for me?"

It happened to be quite hot today, so I gladly agreed and he ushered me inside the house.  As I entered the family room, his wife, wearing a head scarf, sat in the kitchen reading a book in Hebrew while their three young children played board games on the winding staircase.  I followed his instructions for turning on the air conditioning, and then he humbly asked if I could help him with one more thing upstairs.

"Sure, no problem," I said.  

"Oh, thank you so much," he replied.  "You're a doing us a big favor."

The wife looked up from her book and also thanked me.  "You're so nice to help us," she said.

Passing through the kitchen, I noticed the disarray not unusual for families with small children, but even the sink was full of dirty dishes.  Up the stairs the man and I went, stepping over the children and their games, and into the TV room which featured a huge projection television set.  He walked right over to the cable box next to the TV and asked me to change the channel so he could watch the basketball game.  That's right, folks -- Jews can't even change the TV channel on the sabbath!!  Apparently, Yahweh doesn't like his people pushing buttons on Saturdays.

The man and his wife were very grateful and a bit embarrassed by the whole thing.  He even called it a silly custom and I noticed he wasn't wearing any head covering.  I was happy to help out some neighbors in need, plus I told him I was glad to see his beautiful home.  In return for my services, they offered me a cold soda but I graciously declined, considering I was just a few blocks from home and could get refreshment there.  He insisted on filling up my water bottle with ice water, so I accepted.  

The man walked me to the door, bowing and thanking me emphatically for the "neighborly gesture," as he put it.  "Glad to help out," I said, "and Happy Shabbos!"  I left the house and made my way back home, the whole way thanking God that I don't believe in him. 

So much of religious idolatry is nothing more than empty ritual.  Why is it OK for a Jewish man to watch TV as long as he doesn't turn it on or off or change the channel?  And does God favor the Lakers or the Denver Nuggets?  Enquiring minds want to know!

Dolphins are so sexy!

Sex with dolphins is not as taboo as it used to be!  But please, remember to cuddle with them afterwards....

No Shirt, No Insurance, No Service!

Had some trauma this week when I accidentally spilled boiling hot water on my hand. I was making my morning coffee, using a cone filter cup over my thermos. I had just filled the filter cup with hot water when for some reason the filter tipped over and sent hot water and coffee grounds pouring onto my left hand, the kitchen counter, and the floor!

Painful, to say the least, but my immediate concern was the huge liquid mess all over my kitchen, just before I had to shower and get ready for work. I quickly wrapped my throbbing hand in a towel, then set about cleaning up the mess. If you've ever cleaned up spilled coffee grounds you know what a hassle that is. After 20 minutes of super-fast motion, I had cleaned up the coffee.

Minutes after the accident.

Next, I had to check my hand. I carefully peeled off the hand towel, and half the skin on my hand came with it! I felt a wave of panic rush over my body. Oh my god, what could I do? I couldn't call 911 -- I don't have any health insurance. Plus, who could cover my classes at UCLA on such short notice? I decided to quickly get dressed, put an ice pack on my hand, and drive to work.

After driving with one hand -- thank god, I'm right handed -- I made it to Westwood and stopped into the pharmacy before class. The Persian lady behind the counter was chatting in Farsi and laughing with another older lady. I looked around for something to treat my hand until they finished their conversation, then I approached the pharmacist and asked for help. I unwrapped my home-made ice pack (a ziplock filled with ice and wrapped in a towel), she barely glanced at it, shrugged disdainfully, and said, "Put some Neosporine on it," before walking away from me as if she couldn't be bothered by some stupid white guy.

Left to my own resources, I did buy some Neosporine and some spray antiseptic plus some gauze bandages. Made it to work just before nine o'clock, gave my students a quick assignment, then excused myself to the men's room to treat and wrap my wounded hand. I managed to make it through the day, but of course everyone asked what had happened. It became tedious to re-explain the situation every five minutes. By the afternoon, a large blister the size of a nickel had formed between my left thumb and forefinger. My co-teachers strongly encouraged me to seek medical attention, so I agreed to stop by the LA Free Clinic on Beverly Blvd on my way home.

Blister the size of a nickel.

By the time I got to the clinic at 4pm, they were no longer accepting walk-in patients without insurance. I asked if I could come back in the morning, but the black lady receptionist told me Friday's were reserved for regular patients only. I sarcastically replied, "I guess only Jesus can help me now." She sighed and looked over her glasses at me: "Jesus can help you get the skills to find help." Then she suggested I head to the county clinic downtown, which was open until midnight. "But you better get going before the traffic gets bad," she added.

Frustrated and confused as to what to do, I decided to bite the bullet and head downtown. After a bit of searching (again driving with only one hand), I located the county clinic at about 4:30 PM. This is when a shitty day entered the world of pathetic desperation. I hope none of you reading this ever has to seek medical treatment in a county facility, and if you have already, you know what a demoralizing experience it can be.

The clinic lobby was filled with about a hundred people, mostly Latinos and African-Americans. I was one of only two white guys there. The entire building looked like some concrete bunker, and there were no clear signs posted as to where to report or what the procedure for seeking treatment was, so I walked hopefully toward window #1. The grey-haired Latino man sat at his desk, busily pushing papers. I cleared my throat and asked for assistance. He looked up at me, paused, then said, "First time here?" I nodded, "Yes." He handed me a clipboard of documents, a wooden golf pencil, and a pink-laminated number card with #114 printed on it. "Take a seat, we'll call your number."

I found a seat between a wheezing, grossly obese black woman with a tiny little girl who kept coughing, and a young black man who held his painful left arm hidden inside his t-shirt. After about 20 minutes they called my number, took my completed documents, and told me again to sit down, "We'll call you." And that was the order of the evening. During my visit to the clinic, I was called up to the counter at least a half dozen times, just to deal with paperwork and answer questions about my injury. And every time the person finished with, "Have a seat, we'll call you." 

Neosporiney goodness!

A couple hours later, they called me up and asked me if I wanted to apply for low-income payment options. I replied I probably didn't qualify, and I didn't, so I had to pay $65 to be seen by the doctor. That's right, they collected payment before I could be seen! After processing my debit card, the cashier mumbled, "Have a seat, they'll call you."

At least another hour passed. Names were being called over the P.A. system, which sounded so distorted, it was like listening to Charlie Brown's teacher (with a heavy Spanish accent) making announcements at the bus station (Waa, wa waaa, wa waaa!). Finally, I heard my name and entered the door leading to the nurse's station. The male nurse took my ID card and messed with some more paperwork. He then repeated the questions asked previously by a different nurse, then took my blood pressure and my temperature, and then told me to -- you guessed it -- "Have a seat and we'll call you."

More time passed. I watched Family Feud, Millionaire, and Dr. Phil on the lobby TV which didn't have an antenna so the picture and sound were fuzzy and hard to make out. Patients were being called in but the pace was getting much slower. Finally, around 8pm, I went back to the nurse's station and politely asked for an estimated time of when I could see the doctor. "What was your name again?" the male nurse asked. "Oh yes, well there's still a lot of people in front of you, so please be patient." I showed him my blistered hand, as I had done at least five times already, and he said, "Yeah that looks pretty bad. You should get treatment. Let me go check with the doctor and I'll get back to you in about 15 minutes. Have a seat and we'll call you."

Impatient, but hopeful, I strolled back to my seat. It was well after dark at this point, and people had stopped coming into the clinic. There were about 40 people left in the waiting area. Another 40 minutes passed with no response from the nurse. Frustrated, I walked back to the nurse's room and peeked in. There was no one there. I sat down again for a few minutes until I saw the nurse back at his station. I went back up to him. "Hi, remember me? You were going to see if the doctor could see me tonight..." "Oh yeah," he replied. "You can be seen but there are nine patients in front of you and there's only one doctor working. Please have a seat and we'll call you."

A few days later.

Dejected and uncertain about what to do, I returned to my seat. This was really getting frustrating. Already I had been waiting more than four hours and had yet to receive any medical assistance. My hand was hurting and every time I peeked under the gauze bandage, the huge blister seemed to be getting bigger. Several times I considered going to the men's room to clean my wound and put on more Neosporine (I brought the medications I had been using just in case the doctor wanted to see them), but I didn't want to interfere with the wound any more than necessary before the doctor had a chance to see it. So, I waited. And waited. And waited. And waited.

After nine o'clock, the clinic started to quiet down. There were just about 15 - 20 people waiting in the lobby, but almost no staff members seemed to be at their posts. Several times I wandered up to the counter, even peeked in the cashier's window, but nobody was in sight. Then the janitor, a big beefy black guy who could have been a linebacker, came in to sweep the floors. Then he mopped the floors. Then he told all of us sick and injured people to get up off our seats and move to the other side of the waiting area so he could mop the floor on our side. People were very disgruntled by this and I scolded him, "These are sick people here, man. Have a little consideration!" To which he replied, "Gotta do it, gotta do it."

On the road to recovery.

I was beyond frustrated by this point, not just in pain from my hand, but feeling the humiliation of being treated like a second-class citizen. What kind of "free" country treats its people -- its sick people -- with so little regard for their welfare? Isn't the first duty of a government to guarantee the safety and well-being of its citizens? I kept remembering Michael Moore's film Sicko which showed the terrorist detainees at Guantanamo enjoying free, first-class medical treatment all at the expense of U.S. taxpayers, including me! That's right -- the enemies of our country receive better medical treatment than its tax-paying citizens and it's all free. Fucked up!!

By 10 PM, the situation was not any better. In fact, I saw one of the nurses leaving with his backpack over his shoulder. The medical staff were actually leaving the clinic with sick people still waiting to be treated. I had had enough, and I thought it would be better just to go home and start treating my wound myself rather than wait there longer and let the wound get worse. So, six hours and $65 dollars later, I left the county health clinic without being seen by a doctor.

I called my band mate, who had asked me to keep him updated on my progress, and he was livid that I hadn't been seen. Luckily his mother-in-law is a nurse so he phoned her and she recommended a course of treatment, which I have been following with successful results. Luckily my wounds are not life-threatening, but it has been a painful, traumatic experience, not just due to the injury, but to realize first-hand how broken our health care system is in this country.

A week later, getting better.

Two things I've learned: first, I've got to get some kind of basic health insurance, even if it has a $5000 deductible, because you can't get treatment in this country without health insurance, regardless of the quality of your coverage. And second, we have got to nationalize the health care system in this country. It is no longer a financial issue, it's a moral one.

The United States is the ONLY developed country in the world without a national health care system, and it's because the powerful billionaires in the insurance racket don't want to lose their gravy train so they buy the politicians and the system gets worse and worse. Do not be duped by the propaganda they've been spewing out for decades about "socialized medicine" (shudder!). It's bullshit. Even those pinko-red commies in Cuba have better access to health care than those of us here in "God's" country.

If you are a baby boomer reading this, be very afraid, even if you have insurance. The largest generation ever to populate the earth are just beginning to enter retirement age, which means they will need more and more medical treatment. Who is going to treat them and how will they afford it? Health care should not be a for-profit industry. America can no longer claim moral superiority in the world and let its people suffer the indignity of a medical system worse than some third-world countries. Access to basic medical treatment is not supposed to be a luxury afforded only to the elite few; it is a fundamental human right.

iTunes is #1

Wow! In less than five years, iTunes has become the #1 music retailer in the world, surpassing even Wal-Mart!!

Read the article here.

Star Sightings

This was a busy weekend for star-sightings here in Hollywoodland.  First, on Friday I was walking along Beverly Boulevard in front of CBS when suddenly I spotted a cute little black Audi convertible carrying Olympic Gold Medalist and current Dancing With The Stars leader Kristi Yamaguchi and her dance partner (cutie!) Mark Ballas, who was driving the car. 

Ironically, I had just been watching them dance on ABC.com before leaving the house!  At first I couldn't believe it was them, but then I realized they were waiting to turn in to CBS, where the show is performed.  Suddenly I got all star struck and called out to them, which I rarely do to celebs -- such a touristy thing to do!  Their dancing was so amazing and impressive; I wanted to shout out my support and they were very gracious and receptive.  Too bad I didn't take a picture, but you can see a bio with pics if you click on Kristi's name above.

Then on Saturday, I was just starting the last Hollywood tour of the day and had finished describing the Walk of Fame, when from out of the crowd 24 star Kiefer Sutherland walked right past me as we were crossing Highland Avenue in front of the Gap store.  Although I recognized him immediately, it took me a moment to come up with his name, I was so surprised.  As the name finally emerged from my lips, a peal of recognition registered through the tour group.  They were pretty excited to see a real Hollywood star in the flesh, and actually on Hollywood Boulevard, which is a pretty rare occurrence these days.

Finally, driving home this afternoon near the intersection of Beverly Blvd and Santa Monica, I spotted Oscar-nominated director Ridley Scott driving a cute black Prius.  Mr. Scott's esteemed credits include last year's American Gangster, Black Hawk Down, Gladiator (Best Picture Oscar winner), Thelma and Louise,  Blade Runner, and the original Alien.  It was ironic to see a big-time Hollywood director driving himself in a tiny hybrid vehicle, but I guess even the rich and powerful want to help the environment, and follow the latest trends to boot.

Yvonne Elliman Rocks!

Wolfgang's Vault just posted a couple concerts from my old Superstar "pal" Yvonne Elliman.  The pair of dates from New York's Bottom Line club were recorded live in 1978.  The band was tight and Yvonne crooned her way through a refreshing variety of musical styles.

This is fun music that really captures the time period!

Go Metro Redux

About a year ago, I wrote about my experiences switching to public transportation instead of driving to work every day. At the time, I was very eager to do my part to help the environment and to avoid the maddening frustration of rush hour traffic here in Los Angeles. I enjoyed riding the bus because I could read, listen to music, or sleep while leaving the driving to somebody else. Well, time has passed and things have changed.

Unfortunately, the bus route by my apartment changed schedule as of the new year and the results have not been helpful to me. The bus should now arrive only about five minutes earlier than before, but for some reason it has been very inconsistent as far as being on time. It either comes ten minutes early, or ten minutes late; a few times it never arrived at all!

After a month of dealing with this hassle, and being late to work several times, I gave up and went back to driving my car. Luckily traffic has not been too bad lately, so I haven't had many frustrations. Sadly, I have not read a single book since driving again, compared to more than a dozen books I read last year. Also, my cardio strength is reduced because I'm not getting as much walking exercise as before and a little bit of a rubber tire has returned to my waist line.

The nice thing about driving is I have a sense of privacy and quiet, which is definitely lacking on the street and the bus. It's great not to have loud traffic noise drowning out my iPod, and I haven't had to suffer through hearing everyone's cell phone conversations (in Spanish) when I'm trying to read or relax.  Plus, I'm guaranteed a seat when I drive!

I also feel more motivated to run errands after work. I can get my grocery shopping done on the way home and I have enough time to do laundry in the evenings after work because I get home much faster than the bus. After a lengthy bus ride, I felt tired and very reluctant to get back out on the streets in the evenings. So, time is saved as well.

However, gas prices continue to rise -- we're real close to $4 a gallon out here -- so I may go back to the bus if I can find a reliable schedule. As it is, I would have to leave the house 30 minutes earlier than before just to make sure I'm not late to work.

Probably I'll end up compromising by driving on days when I need to run errands, and taking the bus a few times a week to save gas, help the environment a little, and to catch up on my napping...I mean reading!!

Oscars 2008

I tried to post my Oscar predictions here yesterday before the awards ceremony, but for some reason I lost my Internet connection and couldn't finish the post. So this will be more of a wrap-up instead.

The title of this post could have been "Oscars 2008: Who cares?" because this has been rather a dull 80th birthday for Oscar. The writers strike dampened the mood of the whole industry here, so no one has felt very celebratory lately. Add to that a dirth of blockbuster films and familiar stars, and there really isn't much need for the average person to tune in to the Oscars telecast this year. I've read preliminary reports that this will be the least watched Oscars show ever, by a longshot!

Unlike years past, I did not see all of the nominated films, and yet there weren't many surprises among the winners. The only mild upset was in the Best Actress category. Oscar pundits were expecting either veteran Julie Christie, the always fabulous Cate Blanchett, or even little Juno star Ellen Page to walk off with the golden statue. However, the award went to the gorgeous French actress Marion Cotillard for her portrayal as Edith Piaf in La Vie En Rose. I haven't seen the film yet, but Miss Cotillard's transformation into the French chanteuse looks amazing! No wonder the film also won the award for Best Makeup.

My favorite moment was when host John Stewart brought songwriter Marketa Irglova back to the stage after a commercial break because her acceptance speech was cut off by the orchestra. That was classy of him. Another favorite moment was my homegirl Amy Adams' live performance of one of the three nominated songs from Enchanted. Her song didn't win, but her performance was a lot of fun.

Anyway, that's it for Oscars 2008. Watching the ceremony with my friend Heidi was fun because we played her famous Oscar drinking game and got drunk very quickly!

A Sad Life: Christian Brando

The late Marlon Brando's first son, Christian, has died at age 49. Poor Christian had a very sad, tragic, and short life.

He spent his youth torn between his estranged parents who fought a bitter cutsody battle over him. Later Christian shot and killed his pregnant sister's boyfriend and spent five years in prison. The sister gave birth, then committed suicide.

Christian also was accused of spousal and drug abuse, and, if that weren't enough, he was a former lover of Bonnie Lee Bakley (she claimed he was the father of her child), who was allegedly murdered by Robert Blake.

What a fucked up life.

CNN: Christian Brando dead at 49

Letter From My Idol

Oh my God!! A dream has come true for me early this new year.

Those of you who know me know that I am an ardent fan of a particular well-known personality. I've followed this person's life and career since I was in high school and a good deal of my attention, and my money, has been spent on this person.

It turns out that a recent acquaintance happens to be a long-time associate of my idol, and she was able to put me in contact with this person. I sent a little fan message, not really expecting a reply, but I did receive a thoughtful and detailed email and I'm completely thrilled!!

Wish I could spill the beans on who it is, but I'm sworn to secrecy out of respect for this individual's privacy. Again, if you know me well, you know who it is, and you know how exciting this is for me.

Pinch me, I'm dreamin'!

Will Smith, the new Jimmy Stewart

Before.........................................After.

I've written before of my admiration for Will Smith, and now Mr. Smith can safely say he is the biggest movie star in the world. His newest movie, I Am Legend, opened yesterday to a $30 million dollar gross, with box-office projections expected to top $80 million for the weekend. That will set a record for top December releases, surpassing King Kong and the previous record-holder The Lord Of The Rings.

What's so amazing about Will Smith is that he is the only major star who appeals across the entire demographic board. He's equally popular with whites, blacks, and hispanics, and with males, females, young people and adults. The only guy I remember who had that kind of mass market appeal, and the combination of artistic and financial success, was the great James Stewart.

Perhaps Will Smith is the new Everyman for the 21st century? He seems to find a balance between meaningful films and those with major box-office appeal. Summer tends to be the season for big blockbuster movies and in fall we see smaller, more artistic ones. Will Smith believes in combining those two markets and so far he's very successful at it.

Read more here: http://www.deadlinehollywooddaily.com/will-smith-can-now-say-i-am-legend-30m-friday-debut-70m-weekend/

John Cusack is Cool

Just got back from a screening at the Academy of the new drama starring and produced by the wonderful actor John Cusack.

The film "Grace is Gone" tells the story of a mid-Western father of two young daughters who freaks out when he learns that his soldier wife was killed in Iraq. He has no idea how to tell the girls that their mother is dead, so he puts them in the car for a rambling cross-country road trip to their favorite amusement park.

John Cusack does a wonderful job in the film, a true dramatic turn for him. This is not the charming, witty John Cusack we know from such classics as Say Anything and High Fidelity. It's one of his most demanding roles and the SAG screening I attended was certainly pointed toward potential award season nominations.

Outraged by the Bush administration's censorship of photographs of American military coffins returning home, Cusack produced the film to show the true human cost of the war that is being paid for on a daily basis, but not by most of us. It's the soldiers and their families who are paying, he told the audience in a Q & A after the film. The American public has its head in the sand. The President tells us to keep spending and consuming, the dwindling military is replaced by guns-for-hire, and all the expenses are paid with credit. We are accumulating societal injuries that will scar an entire generation.

Though Mr. Cusack expressed his views forthrightly, the film was not preachy at all. On the contrary, the film intentionally focuses on the hardship on families rather than politics. The two young girls who played his daughters were simply marvelous and John spoke very fondly and respectfully of the two young actors.

I sat in the second row, about ten feet from John Cusack. He seems like a down-to-earth guy, very humble, and extremely patient to endure the fawning and often ridiculous questions of a roomful of actors. I was lucky to attend thanks to my soon-to-be-ex tour boss (and SAG member) Philip, who has taken me to several of these types of events. Unfortunately, Philip is leaving the tour company, and the country, so we won't be attending anything like this again for a while.

Too Bad Rockies

I was rootin' for ya. I have never watched so much baseball in my life. Never saw more than ten seconds of any game while channel surfing on television. I've attended several Major League games in my life and I always enjoyed being at the ballpark.

When I was in Denver recently, I had the good fortune of attending two consecutive Rockies games, an evening game and a day game, and I had a great time at both games, especially because the Rockies WON. They must have peaked early with their late season string of winning games, which pitched these underdogs into the World Series.

Oh well, it was fun to watch the games on TV after having seen them play live. I recognized all the players, and I can safely say we're a better-looking lot than the Red Sox! Maybe the Rockies got psyched out going up against the recent World Series champion Red Sox team, who were an extremely talented and older group of players. The Sox played very well on offense and defense. The Rocks had some good defense but not enough offense.

Another thing the Red Sox had on us was passion. They played to win, they had a lot to celebrate and they were very jovial throughout the Series, but they also expressed frustration when things didn't go their way. The Rockies seemed like rocks, completely emotionless even during their infrequent successes. Was this their attempt to be professionally aloof?

It didn't work, but hopefully they will be back next year, a more experienced and confident team. "Go Rockies!"

King Lear with Sir Ian and Barry

I had a great surprise this weekend -- my friend Barry Dennen called with free tickets to see Sir Ian McKellen as Shakespeare's King Lear at UCLA. I hadn't seen Barry for a while so it was great to reconnect with him again.

The play was long and at times tedious, but overall enjoyable. This was the Royal Shakespeare Company's touring production so all the actors were quite good and were mostly audible in Royce Hall despite the lack of amplification. Sir Ian was thoroughly old and curmudgeonly as Lear, though I didn't feel particularly moved by any of the drama.

A big surprise -- pun intended -- was during one of Lear's mad scenes and Sir Ian proceeded to strip off his shirt and drop his trousers, exposing his not insigficant manhood in the process! Maybe he was just trying to get the audience's attention or to make sure we all knew his religion: not Jewish.

Besides Sir Ian, I didn't know any of the actors in the cast except for Lear's court jester who was played by Sylvester McCoy, the seventh actor to play Doctor Who on BBC television back in the 1980s. Although I wasn't really following the show by that time, I certainly remember Sylvester in the role and it was great fun to see his humorous performance live on stage.

Another bonus was a star sighting in the audience. This was a big one, but I didn't see him until outside the theater during intermission. We went out for a breath of air and turned around and standing right behind me was Tom Hanks with his two teenage sons. They were chatting and bonding so I wouldn't have dared disturb them. A few minutes later, Tom's wife Rita Wilson joined the boys. Tom was simply dressed in a white shirt with black pants, and he looked larger in real life - he's quite tall - and a bit older. He has age spots on his face which are covered by makeup when he's performing. Although I didn't see the film, Tom and Sir Ian co-starred in The DaVinci Code last year, so no doubt Tom was there to support his friend.

After the matinee Barry took me for an excellent Italian dinner at one of my favorite restaurants in Westwood Village, Mio Babbo. We both had the fresh salmon with spaghetti and vegetables, plus a delicious merlot.

You would think that a four-hour Shakespearean tragedy followed by a rich Italian dinner would have been plenty of entertainment for one day, but no, there was more! After the play and dinner, we went down Wilshire Boulevard to the Motion Picture Academy (Mr. Dennen is a card-carrying member; he showed his card at the door.) for a free screening of Steve Carell's new romantic dramedy Dan In Real Life. It was a very touching and enjoyable film, a real feel-good story.

I love going to the Academy because they have all these gold Oscar statues standing around and red carpet on the floors. It makes you feel like Hollywood royalty or something. And I love hanging with Barry. He's such a nice guy who has had a colorful life. He told me he wants to start acting a little bit for movies and TV again. It's been over ten years since his last film....Titanic.

Overall a thoroughly satisfying day, except the bad news when I got home that the Rockies had lost Game 3 of the World Series at home in Denver to the Red Sox. One more chance to stay alive tomorrow -- come on Rockies!

Star Sightings

It's been a busy week for star sightings. I've seen four celebrities "on the streets" up close and personal in recent days.

The first was the busy actress Sharon Lawrence, who you've seen in tons of TV shows like Monk, Desperate Housewives, and NYPD Blue. She was shopping at the Ralphs supermarket where I go at 3rd St & La Brea Ave. We passed each other with our shopping carts several times in the store and it took me a couple sightings before I realized who she was. I was too shy to talk to her but she smiled and seemed friendly.

Later that evening I saw the actor Sam Rockwell. You've seen him in films such as The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, and Charlie's Angels. He was crossing the street in front of my car at the intersection of Sunset Blvd & La Brea. Just walking across the street all by himself as if he was nobody.

The next celeb I spotted was Entourage's Jeremy Piven. He was driving his Land Rover at the intersection of Beverly Drive and Wilshire Blvd where I was waiting to catch the bus home. He was in his car talking on the phone so I didn't have a chance to speak to him, but it was unmistakably him.

And finally, this morning at work in Hollywood I was crossing the street at Hollywood & Highland and who should be crossing the opposite direction but Broadway legend Carol Channing!! I was too shocked to say anything to her though I could have easily done so: we practically rubbed shoulders in the cross walk.

You might have heard the news this week about one of Miss Channing's famous evening gowns being stolen right out of her arms in the lobby of the Renaissance Hotel here in Hollywood. I'd like to think she was on the streets this morning looking for the culprit!

Oh well, just another glamorous day in La-La Land!!

Long Live The King

The Summer of '77 was an important time for me. I wrote earlier about my fascination with Star Wars, but I'll never forget the day 30 years ago (is it really that long ago?!) when the news came that Elvis Presley had died at age 42. Of course the whole world was stunned. I was only seven years old, but I still remember that day pretty clearly.

Although I didn't know Elvis' music very well, I definitely knew who he was. Probably I had seen his 1973 "Aloha from Hawaii" television special and since my Dad was a fan, we probably had Elvis music playing in the house from time to time.

Also, I had actually seen Elvis in person just a few years earlier in Fort Worth, Texas (my birthplace). My family remembers well the time when Elvis came to town for a concert and since my parents didn't have tickets, we went to the hotel to see Elvis return after the show.

The crowds went wild when the limos arrived and Elvis emerged from the car -- I still remember the screams and the flash bulbs exploding! My Dad held me up on his shoulders so I could see easier and Elvis saw me in the crowd and pointed at me before being whisked away into the hotel by his Memphis Mafia.

After Elvis died, my father took me to the local record store and bought me my very first two records of my own: Elvis' Gold Records and A Date With Elvis. I loved those records so much that I probably wore them out. My favorite songs were "Don't Be Cruel" (still love the bass line on that one!) and "I Want To Be Free", which was the perfect song to hear when I was grounded to my room as punishment for something.

Thirty years later, Elvis is still the international King of Rock 'n' Roll. I asked my students if they know who Elvis was and I'm surprised that they always do! My students are all about 20 years old from all over the world, especially Asia. It's astonishing to me that these kids know Elvis and his music. I played some Elvis songs in class today and they recognized some of the tunes, especially "Love Me Tender" and "Jailhouse Rock."

Long Live The King!!

Busy Summer

I just realized it's been over a month since my last blog entry! It's not that I haven't had things to blog about -- there's been tons of them, believe me -- but I am so gosh darn busy this summer I just haven't had time to sit and write lately.

I hope to get back on track when things start slowing down at the end of September. See you then?

Why Impeach When You Could Execute?

For once I morbidly agree with China's legal policy: if politicians break the law, they are executed!

Just this morning the Chinese government executed its former food and drug agency director for taking bribes from phony drug makers. Imagine if Washington held its corruptors to the same level of job performance?

We'd need a lot of new politicians.

Read the MSNBC story here.