Another sweltering summer day with temperatures rising along with the tempers. No one remembers how cold the winter was. No one is talking about anything about other than the hot. At the Tompkins Square basketball court we are drowning our innards with water and juices and sweating out it as fast as we drink.
I am sticking with lemonade and watermelon, avoiding beers and Vodka-tonics since resuming the rewrite of NORTH NORTH HOLLYWOOD. The book is rolling along fine, although I can't find the first twenty pages of the screenplay. I have to being losing my mind. I lose everything else.
Always thinking about my toy boat.
Left behind in Maine.
Like Chaney.
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