Yes, I am glad it’s “naturally flavored”,
But if its flavored “naturally”, why do we need to know that the “Naturally Flavored”
was “Naturally Flavored” with any other Natural Flavors
when we don’t know what the original natural flavors were
The League of Professional Theatre Women hold evenings with prominent woman who talk about their careers, accomplishments and ambitions. I went the night Charlotte Moore held a conversation with Angela Landsbury.
After the event the whole group went over to the Rooftop of the Empire Hotel for the VIP reception and I managed to maneuver myself into a position that got me into the elevator that Ms Landsbury would get into to get to the rooftop.
The second the elevator doors closed I seized the opportunity to turn to Ms Landsbury and tell her a story I knew she would not have known, but would love hearing, how she saved my studios and business.
I told her that during the years of Run-Away Production when the studios were in negotiations with two unions and took all their productions to other states and even other countries to basically bleed the business in L.A dry and make the unions accept less desirable terms just to stay alive, there were stretches where we had no productions going on at all, as opposed to always having at least two feature films working on my stages and keeping the cash flowing. But there were a number of times when I exhausted the company’s financial reserves to keep the staff from starving, but saw no light at the end of the tunnel and that reality would creep up that we wouldn’t make payroll.
Somehow, by the grace of God, and Angela Lansbury, when we’d reach our darkest hour,
“Murder She Wrote” would book our stages, which kept us afloat.
So, I told her this in the elevator and thanked her.
She was overjoyed to hear such an unexpected and positive story and the whole tone of the group changed to one of seriousness and fatigue from the long night at Lincoln Center and the interview,
to one of energetic jubilation and laughter .
How appreciated and wonderful a belated thank you can be.
So, the question comes up with the expression “It’s Marking It’s Spot”.
Does an animal really consciously mark it’s spot as a message to others that it’s been there
or is it just that they’ve found it to be a convenient and possibly private place to go
and it’s us who project the idea of it being a more cerebral, conscious and calculated choice or decision
onto animals , overthinking things as we tend to do,
and what if some animals are more cerebral and conscious in their choice of where to go,
while others of the same species are not , and like homo-sapiens
and whether or not the conscious choice is made, or the action just takes place organically,
is an indication that , some dogs are smarter and use their brains more than others 🙂 LOL
While driving a director, set decorator and location manager out to a location in Malibu in my convertible Mustang with the top down , and blasting
Alanis Morisette’s “Isn’t it Ironic” on the stereo, in a very out of character moment,
was actually joyfully singing Out Loud to the song,
until I sang one of the lyrics wrong,
and with an erroneous interpretation of one line
that stopped my singing in public forever.
They’re still telling the story to their friends, to my embarrassment, and reminding me of it to this day, 15 years later. 😕🙆♂️🙉🙈
Novelist, Playwrite and Actress Debbie Babitt and Hamptons Live TV Executive Producer and Host Gregg P Sullivan find an effortless chemistry and form a new fun friendship in this casual and impromptu interview at the East Hampton Library’s Authors Night, even though it’s daytime
Here’s an introduction to this years Easthampton Library’s Authors Night
with a bit of my feelings about who are the truly creative people in the film, TV, theatre and internet content production industries vs who’s contributions are really just interpretive.
As written to my beautiful Margarita Parlionas,
Ever notice how sometimes, two separate events can kinda sync up in your head and merge into one thought or help you come to one realization?
Well, here’s what happened to me today,
1) Intellectually intrigued by this post being motivating enough for you to put up on your timeline, AND make an emotionally expressive comment on, it lingered in my thoughts.
Then
2) Inspired by the unexpected positive and encouraging response I got from the Facebook post I put up after my workout in the gym this morning, I went back to the gym to work out for a second time in one day this evening (as you’ve known me to do from time to time) .
While at the gym working out for the second time today, I realized there’s something I do, that speaks of the man I am , as Steve Harvey speaks of something that talks about the man he is, that you responded very favorably to in this speech he gives publicly in front of his wife.
When at the gym and starting my workout, I religiously start off looking in the mirror with the weights in my hand , and say TO MYSELF,
to that SELF I am looking at in the mirror — “Kiss My Ass” —
and I start pumping that iron.
What I am doing is basically letting my better self out to dominate the moment
and letting that stronger willed, higher self take command of the event and tell my weaker self , the one that would be inclined to not work out, give up and say, “not today, I’ll work out tomorrow” and go home after one set.
SO I start off every workout with my higher self looking at my self in the mirror and saying to my weaker self “Kiss My Ass” and I start working out.
Then when It feels like that motivation is starting to deplete, I think about someone who is either getting in my way or doing wrong by me in some way, and I direct my speech at him and say “Kiss My Fucking Ass” and I pump that weight harder, higher and faster.
Then when that energy starts to deplete, if I am “single” I keep myself going and pushing by thinking about the most beautiful and desirable woman I have within my reach and I say to myself “Common Buddy, You can have her, you can make her yours, she is YOURS”
and I give that weight another killer, animal, beastial, king of the jungle push,
and crunch out another pain inflicting set.
Or, if I am in love with someone and in a relationship, I go to something my father passed on to me in a beautiful father to son moment, to motivate me to push and pump even more.
My father said: (and you can bear witness to this having heard me say it to you)
“You know who you want to be, you want to be that man, that fills your girl with pride to be with you and to be yours , and that gives her the joy she’ll feel when all of her friends, single or married, look at you as the man they’d like their man to be more like.
You want to be the man all the woman wish their man was more like
and admire your girl more for having. That’s a good goal to set for yourself” 😉
My dad was a cool dude 🙂
and you’ve heard me say that goal and desire to be that, for you.
So, Steve Harvey said what he said, which I also authentically resonate with,
though I just hope he doesn’t say it at the Academy Awards and do it to Chris Rock on stage in front of everyone . 😃 LOL
and, now you know (as loves I’ve had before you have also come to witness)
what I’m saying and thinking when I’m in love and in a relationship
and going to the gym for you, sometimes , twice a day
Whoa Nellie !
They say time passes faster as you get older. Well, these Facebook Memories certainly validate, if not punctuate that.
This is such a huge memory from Bayside’s past, as well as my own.
It was the start of one of the greatest events of my life.
It was FIVE years ago that I was fighting to give my childhood home of Bayside a much needed Arts Center in the middle of town, at a great location right next to the train station that would have not only made a great contribution to the lifestyle of our local community, but given Bayside’s incredibly robust Restaurant Row a little Sparkling Diamond of a Cultural Center in the middle of it to add to Bayside’s, and Bell Boulevard’s appeal and draw as a destination, and that would have resulted in a lot more cash flowing into the local cash registers.
It promised to be a very rewarding project and was starting to generate great press, praise and appreciation.
It had a growing following of people from the neighborhood who enjoyed seeing new things happen on the boulevard and now having something that fed and stimulated their minds, in deference to the blvd’s availability of great alcoholic beverages who’s side effects do not necessarily have the same effects on the brain.
It had people lingering and talking with each other after every performance or art opening, and I can’t begin to describe what it felt like, to stand witness to the unexpected and delightful consequence, of friendships being made right in front of you.
I had never really experienced that. Certainly not in such abundance and frequency. Like turning the soil in a field and suddenly having all these colorful, aromatic flowers pop up.
Well, real estate interactions took place and we lost control of the location that’s now been occupied by a business that in my estimation does little to nothing for the community nor offer the highest and best use for the location to the town or even the landlord.
It was right about this time that I met the most beautiful and vibrant woman on the Boulevard. Margarita Parlionas.
She managed a restaurant three blocks down that had this huge outdoor, beer garden type backyard that was perfect for art exhibits and events and thanks to Margarita’s vision and business savvy, we started moving the events we had been scheduling for the Art Center down to her place.
Life happens, things change, seasons pass and covid pandemics come and go,
and these things can leave an awful lot of emptiness behind.
Like the “Vacant- For Rent” sign on the door, under the “Supper Room” awning that still hangs above the entrance to her place.
But damn, if Facebook with these “Memories” doesn’t facilitate flashbacks of what were “all consuming”, heartbeat quickening potentials of things we hoped would happen,
along with the beautiful and exquisite memories of the magical things that did.
From the early years on Towd point to later years at Towd point . The panic caused by the fear of being left behind