Over and over again.
Adventure.
I feel like I haven't been putting enough money away lately. Life has been more fun though.
You can't buy happiness but if you couldn't buy anything you wouldn't be very happy. That is to say, those who are poor are wanting. It's only common sense. When you don't know where the next meal is coming from you are a walking bundle of nerves. You can't really appreciate the beauty and wonder of a sunset when you're looking at it, freshly evicted, from outside what used to be your apartment.
Oh, but it has been fun. It's been fun spending time with those that are not wanting. As Richard Haydn said in The Sound of Music, "I love rich people. I love the way I live when I'm with them." It doesn't change the way I think about the world, or the decisions I've made that I know will lead me to a life of just-slightly-above-wanting. But the thought of excess and grandeur has an effect on me just as it does on anyone. It makes me feel lightheaded.
The investors for the musical I'm managing threw a party after we opened and as I was walking around the gargantuan Bel-Air home of our host, I found a hardbound copy of Oil! by Upton Sinclair (adapted recently into the movie There Will Be Blood with Daniel Day Louis). It was tiny and old and really really really expensive, I realized, because when I flipped open the cover it said "printed 1927" right below a scrawled signature. I found a signed first print edition of Oil! in someone's kitchen, on top of his toaster.
Last weekend one of our cast members threw a hot tub party at his amazing rock and slate facade home in Burbank. His jacuzzi had mood lighting. That's really all I have to say about that.
And last night, I went to the L.A. Weekly Theater Awards. There was a fully stocked bar INSIDE the theater. INSIDE. Within spitting distance of the seats. Oh and there was a theme: 1958. So the place was filled with hundreds of theater people in costume, with alcohol. It was MAGNIFICENT. I got free beer and food and a ride home. People said I looked good in a suit. And a pretty redhead called me hot, over and over again. After the awards, still in our vintage clothes, we used plastic light guns to shoot pixelized water buffalo at a bar across the street.
Life is good. Life is good but soon I will be saving again.
Adventure.
I feel like I haven't been putting enough money away lately. Life has been more fun though.
You can't buy happiness but if you couldn't buy anything you wouldn't be very happy. That is to say, those who are poor are wanting. It's only common sense. When you don't know where the next meal is coming from you are a walking bundle of nerves. You can't really appreciate the beauty and wonder of a sunset when you're looking at it, freshly evicted, from outside what used to be your apartment.
Oh, but it has been fun. It's been fun spending time with those that are not wanting. As Richard Haydn said in The Sound of Music, "I love rich people. I love the way I live when I'm with them." It doesn't change the way I think about the world, or the decisions I've made that I know will lead me to a life of just-slightly-above-wanting. But the thought of excess and grandeur has an effect on me just as it does on anyone. It makes me feel lightheaded.
The investors for the musical I'm managing threw a party after we opened and as I was walking around the gargantuan Bel-Air home of our host, I found a hardbound copy of Oil! by Upton Sinclair (adapted recently into the movie There Will Be Blood with Daniel Day Louis). It was tiny and old and really really really expensive, I realized, because when I flipped open the cover it said "printed 1927" right below a scrawled signature. I found a signed first print edition of Oil! in someone's kitchen, on top of his toaster.
Last weekend one of our cast members threw a hot tub party at his amazing rock and slate facade home in Burbank. His jacuzzi had mood lighting. That's really all I have to say about that.
And last night, I went to the L.A. Weekly Theater Awards. There was a fully stocked bar INSIDE the theater. INSIDE. Within spitting distance of the seats. Oh and there was a theme: 1958. So the place was filled with hundreds of theater people in costume, with alcohol. It was MAGNIFICENT. I got free beer and food and a ride home. People said I looked good in a suit. And a pretty redhead called me hot, over and over again. After the awards, still in our vintage clothes, we used plastic light guns to shoot pixelized water buffalo at a bar across the street.
Life is good. Life is good but soon I will be saving again.
Adventure.