My Blog Debut

Now, at last, I’ve joined friends and family documenting the details of our lives on-line. This is how we know (a) what our family and friends are doing, as they are too busy typing to actually tell us, and (b) how to tell them what we are doing because we are too busy typing to tell them.

I am in Santa Monica, California. It is lovely here. The sun shines and Lord only knows if they have ever heard of Lobster Thermadore. I was living in Venice — not Italy, but Venice Beach where prices are high and so are the majority of the residents — artists with cannabis sativa sensibilities. That isn’t one of my shared interests as the aroma of that particular burning vegetable makes me green around the gills.

Speaking of gills, people fish off the pier in Venice. I understand fishing in Loon Lake. The most scary thing you might catch there is a real ugly brown trout or a tinch. But in the ocean you could catch some real horrid mutant prehistoric God-Knows-What Godzilla sort of thing! I mean, nobody knows what is even IN THERE! Ask a marine biologist and even they will tell you it’s safer to fish for red meat in Kansas than drop your pole into the Pacific. You could dredge up Gorgo or Jimmy Hoffa or both at once. You probably don’t know this, but the original edit of THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL had Michael Renie giving a big speech about not fishing in any body of water not bordered by railroad tracks and trailers. Trust me on that.

Lately I’ve been enjoying the company of famed Hollywood private detective Fred Wolfson. Fred has the never-ending distinction of having saved Groucho Marx’s life, as detailed in the book LIFE WITH GROUCHO. He also was the private eye who solved the mystery, "Who Sold the National Inquirer Tom Arnold’s Love Letters to Rosanne Barr?" All America was holding it’s collective breath for the answer to that one, as you assuredly recall. You don’t? Me neither. The answer, for those of you who missed the shocking revelation, was Tom Arnold.
That’s about my quota of old show biz gossip.
As for me, I’m within walking distance of an excellent Patty Melt, an OK burrito, and a decent video store. Life is good.