At long last Editor person and I will meet. There’s veritable bunches of stuff they’ve yet to see. A meeting like this has been weeks in the making. Day jobs always get in the way. Last night I called them to verify we were on for today.

sam: Yo Editor person we on for Wednesday?
Editor person: Perhaps.
sam: Perhaps yes, or perhaps no?
Editor person: Yes.
sam: Yes which is it?
Editor Person: You called for a reason I hope.
sam: I called to find out if we’re on for Wednesday.
Editor Person: Today is Tuesday.
sam: And that means tomorrow is Wednesday.
Editor Person: So call me then. Right now I’m working.
Sam: At 9pm you’re working?
Editor Person: I’m always working.
sam: You haven’t read any of the pages yet have you?
Editor Person: Not yet, I’m about to go to bed. Try me in the morning.

The wife and I went to see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind last night. I’ll put the review up later. Let’s do a segue into the main action here…

See the wife didn’t care one way or another about going to the film. Beside her lack of interest, everything seemed aligned against us too, we left late, got there late, had to get money in transit. We had the one minute - do you not want to go? since when do you care about what I want? argument. This was all before we got out of the car. Then at the theater, the special needs attendant was selling tickets, which is fine except he’s a little bit slower than the some of the other attendants and like I mentioned we were late. But I’m thinking karma so I behave and breathe into my tardiness.

But the gaggle of 12 year old girls pretending they were 13 tried my patience. True, they had the first position in the line when we got there but as a group they fought about why they were there in the first place. “oh my god what are we going to see?” - “i’m 13!” - “No! you’re 12!” - “Who said I’m fat?” type distractions provided an opportunity for customers who wanted concessions, because the ticket guy didn’t want to listen to the girl school argument any more than anyone else, so he left the ticket line to scoop popcorn.

So we get our tickets and now the film is in progress. And there’s something horribly wrong with the screen, because it’s dark in the theater. Oh there’s a moving picture show going on, but parts of the screen are a nice study in dark shadows. For a second I think, hmm, it’s art film, they like to do weird things. And even though we missed about 2 minutes it was clear this wasn’t going to be a linear story. Maybe the shadow dancing is an import part of the plot.

Five minutes later the manager comes in and apologizes for the burnt bulb and asks everyone if they want a refund. None of us move. Two minutes later he comes back with the granddaddy manager special readmission passes, good any time for any movie.

Now I get to see 2 movies this week. And the wife did like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind by the end. It’s all aces for me.

Here’s a quick State of the Union

1) Do I have an agent - don’t know yet. The official answer is maybe.
2) What’s going down with Velocity? About 150 pages is what’s going down. Should be closing in on the halfway point.
3) Other projects. Unfortunately I have more ideas than I have time. The next project won’t be Mike Brody. A friend of mine and I were kicking around some ideas for a thriller and stumbled upon a pretty trick backdrop. It’s going to be in third person, omniscient perspective. It’s going to be a one-of kinda thing. No recurring characters. One shot, hit or miss.

It’s perfect weather outside today, so I’m off with the wife for a day hike.

Because of a bet about the box office gross of Jersey Girl I have to wait to see that movie until Monday night. Essentially a friend bet me that Jersey Girl will do under a certain amount and I didn’t want to win just by my 13 bucks so the wife and I went to see Scooby Doo instead.

I’m going to confess my Scooby Doo fanboy nature. This goes back to my childhood. Scooby was just better than Garfield and He-Man. True Spiderman was best of all, but that’s another movie sequel and review.

Once again the zany kids set off to solve a mystery. This time the villain threatens to crumble Mystery Inc, because they are the targets of a smear operation led by a mysterious figure. They face goblins and ghosts and creepy things, oh my! Even more spooky they must face the legions of evil tyrants they unmasked years ago back in the cartoon days. Which by the way, how old are they supposed to be anyway? In the TV show Shaggy was 14, Fred 17, Daphne 16, Velma 15. Ain’t no one in this movie even close to those ages.

There’s some good laughs, a couple of fart jokes, but in the end of the day plot is 90 percent action based. Without fail every 240 seconds there’s another action sequence to wake people up. Shaggy, Scooby and Velma are spot on. Side point, I’m getting used to Scooby looking like a computer generated acid trip.

Watch for the inside joke for adults during the whip cream sequence with Scooby and Shaggy. Hint, it’s got nothing to do with cherries.

Three good things about the movie

1) It kept the hordes of children in the audience laughing.

2) The guy who plays Shaggy is Shaggy. He’s almost too Shaggy.

3) In many levels the sequel surpasses the original. The action this time is better, Scooby seems more natural looking.

Three bad things? Well, if you like the notion of this thing we call Scooby Doo, I don’t think there are three bad things. If you don’t dig on Scooby, you probably won’t like this picture. It’s that simple.

Some of the laughs are cheap shots, but they work in context. All in all an enjoyable flick. Fun for the whole family. It’s not a bullseye masterpiece, but it will probably do the trick for a rainy afternoon.

Sleep has been a big issue lately, and I’ve been trying to figure out why exactly. My official theory is that it has something to do with waiting for the agent to respond.

When I queried actively, it was easy to get some kind of result. For instance, let’s say on a Monday I queried agent A. Usually an answer came back anywhere from 31 minutes ( the fastest ) to 48 hours. There were a few agents that took more than a week.

I’ll never forget the 31 minute turnaround time for one rejection. Or my first rejection which took about 48 hours. But at least it was quick and it was only based on the query letter. It’s hard to take that kind of no personally, because it’s only a pitch they are saying no to.

Only now an agent has enough of the novel to make a decision about representing it or not. A no at this point is a little different.

So I’m stuck in limbo for the next couple of weeks, not sleeping so hot.

Fifteen years ago George Carlin did a comedy special for HBO What am I doing in New Jersey? I had no idea that someday the same question would be staring me in the face. New Jersey has a bad reputation in the press as this tough talking, backstabbing, mother-raping kinda state. And that’s the treatment you get from your family. People who you don’t know? Fuggeaboutit.

Does NJ deserve such a black sheep reputation? I’ve had about eleven years off and on to ponder this sensitive matter. What follows in scenario to illustrate the difference between NJ and Kansas, another state I used to live in.

The scenario is a lone man walking to the convenience store along a busy road. A car full of lost tourists pull alongside the lone man.

In Kansas
Tourist: Hi, we’re lost. How can we find our way back to the I-435?
lone man: Hi! Isn’t this great weather we’re having? I-435 ? No problem all you have to turn right at Metlars lane, go about 1.8 miles and then bear right. You can’t miss it.
Tourist: Oh thanks so much. You have a nice day now.
lone man: Golly gee, you too! Enjoy your vacation. Drive careful for the little ones.

Now the same scene in NJ
Tourist: How do we get to the Turnpike?
The lone man continues walking.
Tourist: Excuse me, where’s the Turnpike?
Slowly the lone man turns his head, still avoiding eye contact. He does not stop, instead forcing the car to continue forward at 3 mph.
lone man: What do I look like a welcome committee?
Tourist: Sorry to trouble you officer.
lone man: So don’t.

I’m driving along yesterday and since this is New Jersey, I make it roughly 29 feet into the journey before someone cut me off. It’s a residential area, which in NJ means the speed limit is optional so feel free to drive like you’re on the Turnpike. No problem really, because I got power everything.

When I hit the brakes, I also lean on my old friend “beep” the horn, so I can let the other driver know how much I care about them. Nothing severe just a little tap. But when I jam on the horn there’s no comforting beep.

I got no beep! This is a great tragedy.

Beep and I go way back, way back to November 2000 when it came into my life. It was the first thing I tried on the test drive. That horn was always there for me. Whenever someone cut me off, beep let them know. When the guy fell asleep in front of me at the stop light reading the paper, beep was there. When the woman ahead wouldn’t stop fixing her lipstick and talking on the cell phone, beep was there too. When the Lexus can’t seem to stay in it’s lane, beep sent a stern reminder that the dotted white lanes are for driving in between, not over or on top of.

I wrote a song for my mechanic Jake, who assures me that my horn will rise again.

Bring back that beeping feeling.
Bring back that beeping feeling cause now its gone, gone. gone…