MY KIND OF TOWN

This blog isn't edited. Sometimes it isn't spell-checked.

What this is is (I just said 'is is') as direct a link between my brain and my Mac as I can get. You see- THAT's the idea, to try my best to put thoughts on the screen in a straight line, without the effort to re-write and re-think the thought.  

If you wanna know w'sup, come here. I tell it like I think it, often working-in lyrics, movie lines and blurbs for my soon-to-be released "THE KING OF DIAMONDS: THE MAGICAL LIFE OF DARIN DIAMOND, " which is a show business fantasy I hope you'll like.

Also, I am up early in the morning, pounding away at "CONDO- THE KINDA TRUE STORY OF HOW LAS VEGAS GOT HIGH." The new book is about a 20-year-old Mormon, Brad Hughes, who inherits a condominium complex located just off the Las Vegas Strip. The book opens with 30-something attorney- Roy Richards, hearing the sweet voice of Lady Luck, who guides him through the casinos. Add-in my favorite character in the book, Chy Rivers, who is a super-sexy "kept" man, who causes the female neighbors to hang-out on their balconies waiting for this 'hottie' to take a swim, or just take a walk, and a pretty, young dancer who moves-in

straight from graduating from BYU, and a wacky, disabled doctor who is over-prescribing as he wheels through the lives of these residents, and you end up with 'Melrose Place,' except instead of LA it's LV, and my characters are way better looking, fabulously flawed and seriously funny... at least I HOPE SO. 

CONDO is the sexiest,druggiest, booziest thing I've ever tried to write.  The first 100 pages is the written equivalent of an Abecrombie & Fitch ad, if THAT makes any sense. (Word on the street is that Abercrombie is cool, but that Fitch is a real prick!)

OK, that said, please continue to check-in to see what I'm thinking. 

Or not. After several requests, I HAVE added a few photos. Some I shot with the Mac Photo Booth---hope you're not too disappointed. I promise to fluff-up the hair and use some Guy-liner and shoot off some new ones.     

HE IS WHAT HE IS

You wanna know what's new in LAS VEGAS, right? 

Well, TOXIC AUDIO is pretty great, straight from New York. BELA TABAK'S SIN CITY CIRCUS and other extreme entertainment on Fremont Street are revving them up like crazy downtown (Note: Bela is my little brother and so I'm a little biased) and we all keep hearing cool things about the upcoming CRISS ANGEL spectacular going into the Luxor. 

But, for my money, the best Las Vegas entertainment story isn't new at all. But the good news is An Evening At La Cage starring FRANK MARINO is still fresh as a daisy. I Won't Send Roses, but I hope to be able to fill a room full of flowers for Frank on an opening night in the near future. He deserves them.

It was twenty-two years ago today, that Norbert told the band to play. 

The show needed a great emcee. To the Fontainebleau we went to see

A pretty/ funny  pretty young man,

And now still after all these years,

It's FRANK MARINO, and I heart this man

(OK- that was like the worst parody to Sgt. Pepper ever. I know).

Let Me Try Again:  

I Am What I Am

Some Say a Pain

Some Say a Pleasure

I Sing My Own Stuff

Some Say It's Junk

I Think It's Treasure 

I have been thinking about FRANK MARINO. He is what he is- a survivor- and I so respect him for it. After twenty-plus years, he's still at the Riviera Hotel, still getting it done, still making em laugh and still making headlines. 

It was late last year when I made a few calls on Frank's behalf (we go bac k a long time, Frank and I do. All the way back to his opening night at the Riv, in 1986. and now, I find myself surprised when I DON'T see his quote in the paper, his name in a headline or his face on a cover.

The newest thing in Las Vegas may well be one of the longest running stars in the history of this town: FRANK MARINO.

The reason FRANK MARINO  is so successful is because he figured out, long ago, the Business part of Show Business. He has created a glamorous  onstage character while building a savvy off stage life.

 I heart him and respect his partner as well.

I would watch for Frank to produce and star in his own La Cage-type show, only a freshly fluffed-up multi-media production that really allows Mr. Marino to shine. The Riviera has seen better days, but I think Frank's Best of Times Are Now.

Hey? If you want to hear THE BEST rendition of I Am What I Am, you gotta check-out JOHN BARROWMAN. You may know his face from the BBC Sci-Fi TV show Torchwood, but I guarantee you'll be blown away by this guy's voice. 

VINNIE FALCONE conducted a beautiful Robert Farnon arrangement of 'I Am What I Am' for Pia Zadora, and Frank and I heard them do it many times. It is a very special song, an anthem, really, and no matter who is singing it, I always think of Frank, of what he's accomplished and how he continues to grow, 

As for the future of Las Vegas and FRANK MARINO? well- I'd keep an eye out for him at a major Strip resort in the near future.

 

MY FIVE CENTS WORTH

A penny isn't really copper...not anymore. Prior to 1982, pennies contained 95% copper which, at today's prices, is like about 2.5 cents per coin. Not bad, huh? Because of the rise in copper prices (and, I suspect, some politically strong interests in Congressional districts where zinc in mined), our new pennies are 97%+ zinc. But you gotta love our Federal Government, no? Today's zinc prices are now at an all-time high (there is about 1.5 cents worth of zinc in our newly minted pennies). But all is not lost, because while the US Mint looses money on pennies and nickels ( which are loaded with copper, too) they make up for it on the bigger coins that have a face value higher than their intrinsic value, and, of course, make a killing on paper money. 

But here's what I don't get--- THE PENNY.

 Who the hell wants 'em? And come on- most of us understand that when a store sells something for $4.99, it's really five bucks, right? Riight?

So I had an idea- why doesn't some town declare itself the "Penny Capital of the World" and start buying-up pennies? They could display them, stack them, even hot glue them to things.

"Roll on into _____________, Arkansas, for a vacation you won't soon forget. Don't be pound foolish-to coin a phrase-plan your trip now." Maybe they could get CHIPS star Eric Estrada to star in the commercials? Or, better yet, George Bush. He's open, right?

You can't  melt them. No sir- that would be against the law. If you have mineral rights to an ore mine,  buy-off your Congressman and you're good to go, but remember to 'call before you dig,' you dig?

The town of Branson Missouri- a place I've come to love and respect for their love and respect of America-should seriously consider doing the penny thing. There are a few performers there not worth a cent, but things are changing. And some change is good.         

SCIAVO VOSTRO (I am your slave)

MARCO POLO didn't speak Italian. Not really. He is the most famous traveler of all time- a guy I grew-up dreaming about, convinced that I owed my ability to fit-in with so many varied lifestyles to a yet-to-be discovered family relationship between Mark and me. 

Christopher Columbus? Sure, he was good, but come on- nobody REALLY believed that the earth was flat. They knew it was round-ish, but for whatever reason, kids are still taught that in 1492, people thought the world was a pancake. It just isn't true.

But just think about a 17 year-old Marco Polo, hitting the Silk Road on the way to China, being exposed to all of those unknown cultures, fitting-in so well that the Great Kahn entrusted young Marco to serious diplomatic missions. Wow, right?

 Seriously, I dream about Marco, with vivid colors and strange sounds still clear in my head after I am pretty sure that I'm awake. 

I keep a DREAM BOOK next to my bed and highly recommend that you do, too. In fact, DARIN DIAMOND, my character in THE KING OF DIAMONDS fills book after book with his lyrics, illusions and dreams. That's what his magic is all about- dreams. And? So is yours, man. 

Back to Marco- he spoke 'Venento' which (naturally) was a mix of many languages, including Latin, German, French and  Spanish. I have read that he even spoke with that funky Castilian 'th' for 's,' a sound you hear your fair share of in my business. Instead of saying "Ciao," Marco's Venento vocab had him saying:  "Sciavo Vostro," which, literally, means "I am your slave." 

I AM YOUR SLAVE.  I like that. Way better than "At your service," or "Your wish is my command," no? 

I've started saying "I am your slave," recently, but- in LA, they tend to try to take you up on it. More on that later... or not. 

          

MUSIC IS MAGIC BUT MAGIC SUCKS

So this guy who works for me, he's ringing me up while he's high on a ladder (top rung, and probably also high), as he's changing round the marquee from a magic show to a music show. And he realizes, (and just had to holler at me) that the only difference between m-US-ic and m-AG-ic is "US." Wow. heavy, no?
But since it sounded windy up there and, as I have no workers comp as he's an independent contractor  I stayed on the line, encouraging him to focus on the letters, change over the sign and then, as The Sunshine Band would say: "Get Down Tonight." 

Ol BLACK EYE IS BACK

THE KING OF DIAMONDS: THE MAGICAL LIFE OF DARIN DIAMOND

  I always thought I'd be in my 50's, have a few mil or so stuffed away and then I'd tell the Mrs. that I was heading up to the cabin in Tahoe to work on my novel.

Man, was I ever wrong!

My first thing longer than a long-ish short story, "The King Of Diamonds," was written in Winter of 2006 -straight from the heart at a time when I forced myself to bang-out an entertaining story about the entertainment business.  It isn't a first draft, but damn close. I did find a way to make an end run around the traditional writing and re-re-re-re-writing. In fact, my novel, a show business scrapbook really, just flowed. I wrote the reviews of the singing magician first and then filled-in the blanks with narrative. No, it's NOT really about Darren Romeo, although I think he'll see parts of himself in it. 

Now that I sold an option to use my little book as the basis of a Hollywood film starring-possibly-(and hopefully) young Emile Hirsch, we are moving quickly to make the book available online.

Please keep an eye on the HOUSE OF H2O for the details on how to download the novel this Summer. For my friends in the business, and all fans of Hollywood, Las Vegas, Don Imus, magic, pop music, and anyone else interested in reading about an "impossibly handsome young man" dating a Victoria's Secret Supermodel, here's hoping you'll dig 'King Of Diamonds.' In creating this thing, I fell totally and completely in love with Darin Diamond. He has become the super-talented  superstar I always wanted to manage and watch succeed. Here's hoping you'll fall in love, too.   

PRETTY GOOD FRIDAY.

The Garden of Gethsemane must not have been a walk in the park. Unlike say, Eden, this place, on that Friday, couldn't have been all that Good. But, to quote one of my favorite songs, it was 'Part of the Plan.' 

My editor just called to tell me she's finished reading my novel, "The King of Diamonds: The Magical Life of Darin Diamond." She called me a "very creative writer." To borrow a Good Friday line, "You have said it and in time you will see..."

She didn't get the reference. Oy Vey!

My book will be made available for FREE downloads starting in July. And, as a screenplay is being written (NOT by me) based on my story of the Pop singer-turned illusionist, it might be fun to see how the source material goes over.

I wish you a GOOD FRIDAY. Heck, let's try to make it a GREAT ONE!

I MAY HAVE TAKEN,LIKE,TOO MANY BLUE PILLS

I am told that when a very young Buddy Holly insisted on playing violin in his family's band (an instrument the toddler hadn't yet mastered), they waxed his bow, thereby allowing the kid to saw away on stage, yet not making any sound. The term "wax his bow," means to silence somebody while still allowing them to play along. 

So, in a continuing (and increasingly futile) effort to try not 

to come off like a jerk, I would ask you to continue to read whatever strikes your fanny, er, um, I mean, fancy, but know that this blog is merely a small part of a larger project, a source from which I hope to glean pop content to be used in a novel I'm writing. So, yea, keep on checkin it out and I'll try to keep on keepin' it real, but maybe just wax your bow, no? 

Or, better yet, wax your boo! 

MY G SPOT

Let's get the G thang out the way, K? 

Here goes:

houseofh2o@gmail.com

OK.

 Sorry for the inability for you to post your comments, but, it's just that, I don't wish to read your replies to my musings. And here's why- NO, it's NOT because I'm a prick, which is not to say that I'm not a prick but which is to say that if I think somebody (like, say, YOU) might reply to what I might write, I may well write differently. Or maybe not. Who knows these  things? But I am damn sure that I would be way more likely to check to see if there are any comments. But no, the way me and my blogspot bros are rollin' now, there will be no dumb-ass comments to my smart-ass blogs. But, if you wanna holler at the House of H20 (and who wouldn't?) hit my blogspot's G spot, which is, for those of you in the back of the class who were screwing around...

houseofh20@gmail.com

About the warning---I HAVE NO IDEA WHO FLAGGED IT OR HOW TO UN-FLAG IT, SO I

 SHALL CONTINUE, WITH A FURL FLAG, HOPING TO FLY HIGH AGAIN ONE DAY SOON   

NAME THAT TUNE

HOUSE OF H2O is one of several writing projects with which I am involved.(You like that fancy-schmancy lingo? This is the nonsense up with which I will not put!)

Anyhow, WaterHouse is the place where I come to comment on things popular in our culture. Now some snob would probably claim that "popular" and "culture" don't belong together. And you know what? If some jerk-off said such a thing in front (or even behind) me, I'd clock him. In fact...I have de-snobbed a snob or two already. No need to thank me; it was my pleasure.

When I was but a teen, I took one of the first American Popular Culture classes in the country. It was taught by a professor with whom I fell in love (there I go again!) which was really cheating, for me and I suspect, maybe her. I fell and she knew I had, so I really got into it all for maybe the wrong reason. Or not. Who knows such things, anyway?

By the time I made it to college and that class, I had already appeared (and kicked major popular culture butt) on NBC-TV's 'Name That Tune,' and a national commercial. When it came time to write my thesis: FRANK SINATRA, THE AMERICAN POPULAR HERO, I traveled to Las Vegas and The Palace of the Caesars where Mr. Sinatra his own self helped me out. Jilly too. I mean, that really IS cheating, no? I spoke to Mr. S about pop music longer in one evening than most members of his orchestra ever did. ( An orchestra is a  band with strings, by the way, with all apologies to Johnny Carson and his "NBC Orchestra," which was almost always sans strings, if you'll remember).  Sinatra spoke to Vinnie Falcone who spoke to the musicians. That's how it was done.   

That first of what would turn into many conversations was kinda weird. There was a real generation gap as I wanted to talk about Tommy Dorsey while Mr.Sinatra kept talking about Paul McCartney. Hey, that brings-up an interesting point- does anyone refer to a generation gap anymore? Now that 40 is the new whatever or whatever, perhaps there is no gap? HA! Of course there is, whether the older ones wish to acknowledge it or not. That's why I get off on stuff like that new ringtone that emits that 17 kiloherts tone that people over 20 can't quite hear. Ring on!        

 

 Back in the day, McCartney wrote an 'Under My Thumb'-type tune for Sinatra, who had requested Christmas songs. The song, 'Suicide,' was never recorded. He did do Elton John's 'Remember live but, sadly, never recorded it. It's another 'Tiny Dancer,' and, as I get back to the student-teacher thing, reminds me how a song can become so personal, if you let it in.      

EYE BLUE AND BLACK

 So I sat up all night while my bro Bela and his G-friend fiddled-around with the camera that would eventually capture my image. No, really. It was 4:45AM,and, after much effort, yelling, dog washing, we got THE SHOT. It is me, with my favorite white dog in all of the world. Only problem was while we were waiting and waiting and waiting for Big Bela to get his schtick together, my four-legged friend and I, while playing by the pool, somehow clunked heads, leaving the dog feeling kinda blue and my left eye pretty black. And it wasn't pretty.

 To the makers of Lorcet-Plus and the inventors of the JagerBomb, my eye thanks you.

I think that it is only fair that the best shot of the long night is me and my black eye, on the floor with my white dog friend. Seriously. It is a good shot. I have done my best to sit still for photo shoots over the past 20 years, and last night's will go down as one of the best...and worst. 

Well, let's let you decide, no? Afterall, you're the one who wanted to see a proper picture. I've got some pretty good ones, but they, like me, are getting old.

Stand-by for the images. OK brother Bela, that's your cue to email

FACE TIME ON FACEBOOK

Be my friend. please? I am on Facebook. Go there, do that. Be somebody. MySpace sucks. Tom Anderson is cool (and can drink you under the table, Mabel) but The place for your face is on my face, book 

INTO THE WILD

I'm just sayin'...pay attention, and your life might start to make sense.

Quick story- Back in 1992 my friend introduced me to a guy who was passing through Las Vegas. Nice kid, needed a shower, though. His name was Chris. He asked me to call him 'Christopher," and, after telling him that Christopher was what my ol man wanted to name me (it ended up in the middle, which is cool), my new friend spent the rest of the evening addressing me as Christopher. I paid him like $40 to clean my pool, for which he was thankful. And? he swam some laps in lieu of the shower. I spent, what? A total of two hours with the guy, but I will never forget him. Not ever.

FADE OUT>

 FADE IN> It is Fall, 2006 and my wanna-be rep is encouraging me to see the film 'Into the Wild' based on the book of the same name, about the all-too-brief life of Chris McCandelles. My Christopher. In the film, EMILE HIRSCH plays Chris, and I was encouraged to consider Emile as I re-write my novel: 'The Magical Life of Darin Diamond' into a screenplay. I dig Emile Hirsch. So full of life, so...male. In a world full of Hollywood homos (that is, guys who have seemed to have lost touch with what it means to be a guy), Emile is the real deal. In fact, he's the nuts. My friend Frank Marino claims that I like guys who remind me of "littler versions" of myself. And as I love Frank-I just do-, I do take him seriously, even when he's bein mean. So, yea, I see Emile, and the late Christopher, as me, or I see a bit of me in them. That's what life is about, no?

So if you need a map, that is, if you're looking for a pattern- by all means, go to a psychiatrist. I love shrinks. Most of 'em are nuttier than squirrel turds, but, why not? Or-better yet- pay attention to what you do, and notice what and who comes into your life. And then, when you find yourself at the latest stupid hot bar in Hollywood, and some dumbass tries to convince you that whatever you're feeling is a sign from above, just have another Jack Daniel, blur your eyes and do your best to try to take- in the vision of the mosaic that is your life.

Christopher taught me that---'wild,' huh?   

JOHN BARROWMAN

I heard you twice the first time. I got the name wrong.  www.johnbarrowman.com

I'm not, like, into Broadway, per se, jose, but man, this guy sings the hell outta "I Am What I Am" and everything Jerry Herman ever wrote. i won't send roses, but man, if I were that way, I'd be John's main whatever. Go to his whatsyacallit and click on his whatnot and download his youknow what.   

HOUSE OF H20 photo by Lorrie McClanahan

blurfection.blogspot.com/2006_09_01_archive.html 

Thanks, Lorrie. You rocked my water house.

-Will

AN AXE FOR THE FROZEN SEA WITHIN US

Well, that's how that crazy Czech Kafka thought of good writing. Going to bed human and waking up a beetlebug, now THAT'S a trippy thing. (Although I have for years had a recurring dream about hanging- out with Paul McCartney, his asking me "How does this sound?" as he strums out a new song). (Oh, another dream? It involves Scarlett Johansson, a pair of jumper cables, a bottle of Percodan, The Boston Pops, a bottle of Jack Daniel, and, oddly, James Marsden.) 

Ok, let's leave the dreamy Beatles and Pops behind, shall we? The topic for today is:

 Agreements

 No, not First Year Law (offer...acceptance) but rather,  the agreements we makes with ourselves. 

The following four agreements changed my life. If you are looking for a change, come-on-a-long...

   

THE FOUR AGREEMENTS---

1. Be impeccable with your word

2. Don't take things personally

3. Don't make assumptions.

4. Do your best.

Reading assignment>>> Miguel Angel Ruiz, The Four Agreements.

Dude, open the book and open your heart. It'll rock your world! 

Notes on the Big Four:

1)no pecking, 2) it ain't always about you, boo, 3) when you make assumptions you can make an ASS out of U and UMPTION (OK I may have screwed that one up) 4) Don't do your hair, your bed or the pool boy. Bro, DO YOUR BEST!

*BOOK UPDATE: 330 pages into my novel "CONDO: THE KINDA-TRUE STORY OF HOW LAS VEGAS GOT HIGH," and I just realized that the main character, Roy Richards, is a pretty cool dude. Chy Rivers, the sexy man whore who falls in love with Kerri Dozier, is pretty cool too. I totally stole the name 'Dozier' from Scott, a guy I lost track of over the years. Go With God, Scotty.