Lighting up a cigar, I straighten up my spine forcing good posture. I think about what a nice summer it’s been and realize that it’s almost over. Smoke lazily drifts from my box pressed Hoyo de Monterrey Excalibur (part of a juicy sampler pack that my dad sent me).
Who cares, whatever, say what you want. Talk about the kick ass mushrooms you ate, or the Tim Flynn Visit, or celebrating 3 years with the girl I love. Bla bla bla
Where's the action? The inciting incident? Who cares? How do you make them care? Well now, we’re onto something.
Polly and I had a great summer. In episodic TV Land, during the summer, the town all but shuts down. Leaving us to spend all day everyday enjoying each others company. The gym in the morning, lunch then a movie then chill till I go to work. She’s been back to work a few weeks and we’re still getting used to it. We went out to a nice restaurant and celebrated our anniversary in style.
I love LA and I love Polly Lucke. I’m a lucky guy. Don’t see much of her during the week. She’s up at 4 AM out the door at 5, at work by 6 and home after I go to work at 6 PM. Since she gets up at 4, she crashes before I get home at 10:30PM. It’s all good, we’ve done it before. Luckily CSI:Miami rarely works more the 60 hours a week. Big Love and Dirty Sexy Money were both closer to 80 hours (in a 5 day week).
It’s always fun visiting Polly on set or on location. She gave me the tour of the sound stages they use for CSI:Miami at the Raleigh Studios in Manhattan Beach (also used for the 2nd Iron Man Movie). Cool stuff seeing close up and personal the magic of Hollywood. She showed me the morgue set and it fooled me like a trick. I opened one of the refrigerator doors where the dead people go, fully expecting to see a compartment with a pull out area where the corpse goes. HA! no such luck, just a fake brick wall behind the door. As we pass various things I ask the question, “fake or real?
What is real, is the deep love I feel for this girl. We’ve been together for 3 years now and have yet to have an argument. We call our house “Camp Paradise” and live by a strict set of rules; First and foremost, Be Nice.
I’ve toothpicked the nub of my cigar and am enjoying the last of it.