Saturday, April 14, 2007

Home of Warner Brothers and First National Pictures, Burbank, Calif.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Windy City

The wind storm yesterday ripped palm plumes from their trees, downed power cables, sparked brush fires and with winds pushing 70 mph in the valley’s, made for an exciting day all around. Dust, dirt and microorganisms had every asthmatic in the region running for their inhalers.

I, on the other hand, sat naked in the back yard smoking a cigar, reading a Genii Magazine and learning a couple new tricks.

The other day I went to Hollywood Magic to pick up a few magazines. Manny was working behind the counter and greeted me with a big smile. I’d met him a couple of times. He’s a friend of Omar’s.

While driving in, I noticed the heavy foot traffic around Hollywood and Highland. I had an hour on the meter, so I decided to see what was going on. During my walk, I saw a street magician who I had never met before. His name was Arturo and I think he said he was from Columbia or Bogota. He didn’t look like a magician. . . whatever that means. His hands were large with big bruised knuckles that looked like he was either a brawler or did some sort of manual labor. He was pitching the magic worm and seemed to be doing pretty good. After one of his pitches, I introduced myself to him. We had a bit of a chat, he recently got back in town and said he had been working in South Central LA, where he lives. I told him that I didn’t realize that people street performed there. He said that was why he liked it there, no competition. Interesting.

Monday, April 09, 2007

This old chair

This old chair that I’m sitting in, has seen better days. An old upholstered Lazy Boy that I bought used 15 years ago. Banished to the garage, we’ve set up a make shift cigar lounge and satellite office for me out here.

With Polly’s wi-fi laptop and my standing brass cigar ashtray I noodle away the afternoon.

Smoke rises from my mouth and I remember many a happy times sitting in this chair with my kids. They were my snacking buddies, always happy to help dad with his chips and dip as we watched a football game, or the Teletubbies or a movie.

To get rid of this chair, would be to get rid of a part of my life. I don’t think I’m ready to do that yet.

I think about them all the time. I just don’t torture myself anymore.

I wish Moira would send the kids down here for the summer, or a part of it. . . but that will never happen now.

When I left Seattle and ended the fight, she got everything she was asking for. Little or no contact with me and my kids, and if there was any, it would be for 5 hours under court ordered supervision.

Kids need their Dad, maybe she will understand that; or Maybe Dom is their Dad at this point.

Sad state of affairs and little I can do to appease a psycho control freak.

I'm the April Fool

April 4th was Buster’s 17th birthday. I didn’t have unrealistic expectations about his desire to talk to me as he hasn’t spoken a word to me since he left months ago. I leave a weekly message for him to call me, I tell him that I love him and that I miss him.

I also put in a weekly call to Max, Hope and Liam. . . sadly they don’t want to talk to me either. . . or they’re not getting the messages or. . . whatever.

It just seems so crazy to me. I have so much love to give my children. I love them, and miss them and want to be a part of their lives; but as fate and circumstance have dealt this hand, there is little to call a relationship with my kids.

It’s been overcast for a few days, but the sun came out and wiped away any doubts of the beauty in this life.

Polly finished up the pilot she was working on, and has now started her spring hiatus. It will be nice having her around the house more.

Things are good at work and play. My work at the City Walk is as good as ever and getting better. Life is good. . . what can I say. . . . I wish I could talk to my kids, and hold them and kiss them and be there for them. Life is an interesting series of challenges. I hope one day they will honor me with the gift of getting to know them.

I know what it’s like to have a mother who puts the kids in the middle and pits the kids against the dad. I didn’t like it when it was happening to me at Max’s age and I like it even less now that it’s happening to them (I can only guess. . . history has a way of repeating itself whether we like it or not).

Pic du Jour • A pleasant surprise


Thanks for the smokes! I think I'll enjoy one now.