Address Book

Today I was going through the address book on my blackberry and I have 1246 contacts… That’s right… 1246… Over a thousand contacts and I wonder… Who are all these people?!?!?! I mean, seriously… How did all these people get into my phone and when exactly was the last time I called most of these people… Randy… Hhhmmm… Who is this Randy? I put “club promoter” under the category labeled “title”. So, this Randy, club promoter… When did I get your number and what club did you promote? Did I ever go to your club and more importantly have I ever called you? It seems as the years go by I seem to acquire more and more “contacts” and yet I never seem to contact most of them. I wonder how many people I actually call from this 1000 plus list… Family of course, and even some of them I don’t call that often… but  you need the info right, just in case… and besides, they’re family! Ok, I come across a number of an ex girlfriend… well, you can’t erase that number can you? I mean, that’s a piece of your past… hell, that number is probably the last piece of that relationship that even exist! I haven’t called the number in probably 10 years and its probably not even her number anymore… but still, you don’t erase… purely for nostalgia… or incase of the event that she actually happens to call you, you can see its her and ultimately not pick it up and send it to voicemail… So those numbers stay in the list of 1246 contacts. Also, I have managed to have a handful of celebrity phone numbers in my blackberry… Some I’ve worked with and promised to keep in touch, I have failed, always thinking they probably have other things to do or perhaps are too busy, hell, I seemed to get busy myself and caught up in my own life to stay in contact as much as I would like. Some celebs I happen to exchange numbers with just through meeting them by chance and their as much of a fan of mine as I am there’s, so we exchange numbers. Actually happened with Kanye West and I ran across his number. I did call him once and he actually did answer. Funny, huh, he told me to come down to a video shoot he was going to do in LA. I wasn’t able to make it, and never called him again… I don’t think I’m the best at keeping in touch… I do have every intention of doing just that when I actually get your number, but somehow fall short of it. So now I’ve come to see that I may just be a hoarder when it comes to this address book… I at least have the tendencies. I’ve watched that television show about “hoarders” and I see these people, mostly women, mostly in nice neighborhoods and nice houses, from the outside, only to be filled with junk on the inside, filled to the brink with clutter and madness. Maybe I have quietly and privately judged these poor souls thinking I was nothing like them, but little did I realize that I had in my very own pocket, an immaculate, pristine blackberry filled to the brink with people I can scarcely remember I have even ever met, yet their direct line of communication rest in my pocket and I carry them around with me all day!

the places where were from…

Tonight I got to hang with a couple of old friends, two buddies from childhood, junior high school, in fact. Now, I don’t get to see these guys all that often, one I haven’t seen in over ten years!!! When I say it like that, it seems like a lifetime ago… and yet some memories still seem like yesterday. You see, he’s back in town because his father just passed away yesterday… may he rest in peace, I remember his father, even as a child, body was always in bad shape, seemed like it was breaking down all those years ago, but he always had a smile and was a good guy… but one of my best friends growing up was back we got to sit down now, older, as men now and talk over a few beers… time has passed and things had changed in our lives… he was married, I’m engaged, our other friend is still single but open to the possibilities… kids… military… politics… jobs… things have changed in our lives, but we were still the same, I mean, parts of us were still the same and I find that comforting.

Funny thing is I got to drive around my old neighborhood and I haven’t been there in years, its changed so much… I happy to say that it appears to have gotten better, feels like there’s more hope in that little town where we came from… Paramount, CA.. home of the Pirates, where they played football and I wrestled… a blue collar town of mostly Mexican and Black, just on the other side of the 710 freeway from Compton and in the time when we grew up was a time of gang banging and the golden age of Hip Hop. To see the house I grew up in, it looks no bigger then a shoe box, just one story and ever so boring looking, just a few walls a and a gravel roof… poor by some people’s standards… maybe even my own standards today, yet its hard to believe that there were 13 of us living there, 1 bathroom… but those are just numbers and don’t describe all the fun that was had there and the first’s in life… first girlfriend, first kiss, first time you had sex… first movie premiere, first t.v. show appearance… that little shoe box of a house and my big family inside. This little town that not many people have even heard of…

I couldn’t help to think, as I pulled onto the freeway to head back to home in the city, that every exit I passed was another little town filled with all these people and friends like the ones I hung with tonight… We all have our history together and all the stories we share of our glory and grief and these little towns which are these exits from the freeway that people pass without even thought… These are the places where were from.

Back In Class… (writing class that is…)

Dreading to start this new writing class or “re-writing” class that is… They say the key to writing a good script is in the “re-writing”! I don’t dread class because I think its going to be bad, in fact, I know it will be good for me… I just dread it because it “class”, school y’know? I gradutated high school a lifetime ago and didn’t go to college… Well, I did go to junior college for all of 1 day. Santa Monica city college, two classes, “drawing” & “photography”… No hot chicks in either class, dropped out in my first week… I think SMC may still owe me for a refund from dropping out so quick… I just think, maybe I don’t like “school”. But I must admit, I like when I’m in class, it makes me get back into the mind set of working on a craft… This time its writing, which I do love doing, but don’t do nearly as much as I should. I haven’t even looked at my play since the reading of the first draft months ago. But starting this class and rereading my play & beginning to write new pieces, its nice to revisit these character’s and hear them talking in my head again. I guess like most artist, I am a procrastinator and need deadlines to fulfill my potential. Looking forward to going through the process of rewriting “Midnight Makeout Session” and maybe even get me inspired to blog more!