La Vida Loca, my first book, will be out soon!

Holy Mudda Of Gawd,

She is done. Fini. I have written my little tootsie off for 15 years, and now it is finally ready to go to print. I just have to decide about cover art, which publisher I should consider for a deal, and whether or not to dedicate it to my goldfish, because they give me shit all the time, which I gladly shovel into our garden to grow all kind of veggies. They are literally the life giving force around here, and are awfully cute and friendly.

Although most people would dedicate a huge pile of crap to their kids or spouse, or some profound social movement, I think it would be best to give credit to them since they are overlooked on occasion and I forget to feed them every now and then. When I do remember, they are not happy and splash me with their tails in protest. Maybe even nibble my fingers in anger. Once fed, I apologize, water the plants and sing to everything in my off key warbling nonsense. Life goes on and we all just keep swimming.

I met with my editor/cow prodder in chief today for the final time to join my work in the annals of Shakespeare and Charles Dickens and other books busy collecting dust mites at your local libraries. Hopefully, this one you will pick up, chortle, hit spiders with it, and pass on as good bathroom reading to your nosy neighbor. Perhaps you will come to a book signing with placards and camp out on my front lawn to protest the indignities you have suffered after reading. If you like it, just leave me a gift of some fresh eggs, mint, like my editor did, to celebrate the end of this tome. I promise it will not go to waste, and be very appreciated! I will post announcements and links to purchase soon.

La Vida Loca!

California is an amazing place, for good and bad. It is the land of extremes. You have the extreme fires in LA, the extreme heat of the desert, the extremely stupid politics, and the bizarro mayor who seemed not to give a rats' behind that her city was burning to the ground. Oh, and the governor, who seemed more like a meme of some greasy weirdo with an overcoat you best not meet on a street at night.

On the flip side, it had booze for miles and miles. Not that I am even close to a lush as 2 is my limit, but it was impressive that Trader Joes, The Grocery Outlet, Albertsons, Costco, and Walmart had aisles of strange brews indeed. Here where I live, we have the famous Pennsylvania "Blue Laws" where you can't buy hard liquor in regular supermarkets, nor on Sundays, you have to sell your firstborn to get a cold beer, and only in a package good store or a licensed pub. I mean, it is crazy. California wants you to drink all their wine and spirits at a pool, eating strange nuts fruits and crackers with funny Swedish names you cannot pronounce. Plus, everything is organic or has some kind of story, like the goats eat the grass the beef is fed on by a farmer whose family also runs marathons for charity. Yawn. I think I will go to the pool and forget I read the package.

We managed to go out to a few restaurants. Everything there is super-duper expensive, and gas is insane. Once you get over your sticker shock and realize that the bus boy makes more than you do, you live with it. I could not find was a decent Chinese restaurant. or Hoagie place, or a REAL Jewish Kosher Deli without bacon on everything. They had lots of great Mexican places, from abuela's kitchen to carts dishing out the best tacos and empanadas anywhere. Followed by cervezas of course. We managed to go to 2 fancy pants places, where the average age of the diner was dead.

Most importantly, I finished the 1st draft of my book, with the working title: La Vida Loca (tm), and I was amazed that I devoted so much time to getting all of my crapola organized and not some random stream of consciousness. I had some good advice along the way, but now is the time I need to fly by the seat of my pants and see where this takes me. My goal is to be sorta like David Sedaris, who, if you have been living under a rock, is funny and weird and quirky but in the best way.

I saw that there was room for a more feminine version and one that is going to turn the world on its head and make people think. There is so much absurdity in the world and life is not fair, so you have to just laugh a little. THat is my goal, but right now, I have to get ready for my upcoming trade shows and annual starvation torture of the ACC Baltimore, where I sel sell sell, and my feet are yelling at me to sit sit sit.

Goin' back to Cali! 2025!

Tomorrow, New Years Day, my family and I will get on that tin can in the sky and fling ourselves across the country to Palm Springs. We like to go to Joshua Tree National Park, do a bit of light hiking, eat really good Mexican food, swim in the springs, and go out to the crazy alt art mecca, Slab City, located not far from Niland/East Jesus/Salton Sea area. It is very remote, very weird, and you better brush up on your Spanish. I love going there and seeing art in situ, and generally, just enjoy a quiet life there. This is where I get a lot of writing done, and talk turkey with people in publishing, arts, screenplay nonsense and absorb as much as I can on how to put all the la vida loca in my head down on paper. I hope to get my first book published, hopefully in the next couple of months. It is scary and wonderful all at the same time.

My twins are turning 20 and we treated them to a round trip ticket to CA, They haven't been back since they were like 11 or 12, so it will be really different for them this time. We will go to the swap meets, the farmers markets, the golf club maybe to see how terrible we are at golf, go to the Indio Date farms, and enjoy a super fattening date shake. I will drag them to the Palm Springs Art Museum, so they can see a fabulous collection of 60s pop art, and perhaps get on one of those super tacky busses that peruse all the Modernist 50s architecture. I will be channeling my inner Rat Pack. They are only staying for a week or so as they both have to go back for college classes.

Inevitably, we will be assaulted by a million Canadians clogging up the scenery apologizing to the cacti and saying Eh. The snowbirds fly down from Calgary, Saskatoon, Regina, and Good OI' Winnipeg, and are busy playing horseshoes in plaid pants, or maybe on the golf course causing traffic jams as they run into (or over) old chums. They will buy up all the tickets to the film festivals, take up all the reservations on the trams, and hog up the best tables at the Jewish delis. They will take up every parking spot near Costco (Canadians LOVE Costco), and just spend money like drunken sailors all over El Paseo , the somewhat faded shopping mecca for fancy stuff and California Pizza Kitchen, which they also love.

Me? I will be watching the Sex Life of the Date, go to the wacky Bible theme park with my date shake at Shields, plop myself at a spa to get my chakras fixed up or whatever, maybe experience a sound bath and some meditation, take a tram through the San Jacinto Mountain ranges, and explore Idyllwild, a quasi hippie throwback community nestled amongst the switchback roads of Rt. 74. THe place is magical, and the trick is to avoid everyone and everything. Just me and my stupid hiking shoes, with sand in my hair.

Rancho Mirage, California