THE USUAL NOTE FROM LB: From the summer of 2002 to the spring of 2010, Gwen the Beautiful and I were the proud and often exhausted owners of a beautiful Ozarks property we called Cloud Creek Ranch.
In many ways, the ranch was paradise. But it was a paradise with a price that started going up before we even knew it existed. Here’s another Monday musing about our adventure and the lessons we learned.
LB’S NOTE: I’ve been thinking about Peter Bogdanovich’s death and wishing there was something I could add to the discussion of one of the most influential film directors of the 1970s.
I met him once during the ’80s, via my then business managers, and he was quite pleasant in a Hollywood sort of way. My management, however, wasn’t exactly fond of him. Something to do with the fact that he only got in touch with them when he needed money for a project.
This shouldn’t have been a negative because my managers’ main business was in fact lending people money in exchange for a percentage of the take. But their policy was to never – absolutely never – invest in the film biz, which, they said, they had told Bogdanovich myriad times so why did he keep insisting on wine-and-dining and pitching them time after time?
NASA Perseverance Mars rover has crud obstructing its rock sample system
The headline above, from cnet.com, is my favorite post/article heading of the year so far.
When I was a kid, I was a huge fan of Mad, which in those days was a comic book not a magazine, and which frequently used the word “crud,” or more often “cruddy,” to mean something was crummy or lousy or just plain subpar.
I loved “crud” because as far as I knew, it was a made-up word used only in the comic, and there was something about using a “d” instead of an “m” that lent it great power. To me, something cruddy was infinitely yuckier than any crummy ever could be.
THE USUAL NOTE FROM LB: From the summer of 2002 to the spring of 2010, Gwen the Beautiful and I were the proud and often exhausted owners of a beautiful Ozarks property we called Cloud Creek Ranch.
In many ways, the ranch was paradise. But it was a paradise with a price that started going up before we even knew it existed. Here’s another Monday musing about our adventure and the lessons we learned.
One of the most upsetting truths new TV, screen, and even literary writers need to learn as early as possible is that very few professional writers (or editors or producers) want to read your masterpieces.
To ask a working writer to do so is present yourself as an arrogant, thoughtless, and very unprofessional soul, especially if you want us to do it for free (which is the way this request usually is presented).