I love it when people stop me at the market and ask me why I haven’t had a column in The Malibu Times lately. I feel appreciated by acquaintances, which is very comforting. Especially since as we grow older we seem to collect fewer intimates and begin to lose the ones we have.
One of the reasons my contribution to The Times has been lax is that I’ve been in the hospital three times since May. Don’t worry, friends and acquaintances. Minor stuff and I’m fine now. And also, please relax; I’m not going to bore you spitless with details of my various procedures. Let’s just talk about the last confinement in early July. They thought I might possibly have a touch of anemia. However, it turned out I had no more than a bleeding ulcer from which-with the help of cauterization and eight transfusions, count ’em, 8-I have completely recovered. Come to think of it, that’s a whole lot of blood passing into new ownership. I’m a new man. (Expect me to conduct a Republican fundraiser in my living room. Joke.)
The point is that for three days they didn’t know what was wrong with me. During which time I was fed only ice chips-the tastiest meal available at West Hills Hospital as it turned out-and, of course, being a drama queen, I took the opportunity to turn away from my 24-hour relationship with Turner Classic Movies and contemplate the hereafter.
When I was young and Catholic, Sister Mary Canisius confided to me, along with the rest of her fifth-grade class, that the greatest joy of going to heaven would be to see God face to face. The Beatific Vision, she called it. That’s all fine, but not exactly time consuming. I mean, you figure, possibly a handshake and a thanks-for-everything; maybe a word or two about world hunger, which takes about 20 seconds, max. What about the rest of eternity?
I ramble.
Truth be told, I’d like my heaven to be right here in Malibu, if that’s possible. With a few changes, maybe, since we’re fantasizing. How about a hardware store and a lumberyard? A combination of the two sounds ideal. The town is ripe for it. And since Granita is finally getting out of Dodge (I never understood the menu and I’m old enough to have a natural distaste for pretension related to what I put in my mouth.), consider the possibility. A hardware store, conveniently located, and a lumberyard to boot.
Another reason I’ve been absent from these pages is that frequently I feel I have nothing to say worthy of being in a newspaper.
I ran into Arnold York, the publisher of The Malibu Times, at the G-Spot (my euphemism for Guido’s) the other night. Arnold reminds me of those hard-hitting publishers played by the likes of Pat O’Brien back in the forties. Arnold said to me, “Long time no material!” He wasn’t smiling.
“It’s rattling around in my head as we speak,” I responded.
“In your head is not on my desk!”
I appealed to Karen, his wife and co-publisher of these pages. “I don’t think I have anything to say, currently.” Somebody in my party quipped that that had never stopped me before.
Karen placed an understanding hand on my shoulder. “Write about how hard it is to adapt a screenplay from your own novel.”
“But that’s so about me,” I responded.
She gave me not an unkind look that said what else is new.
Okay, I happen to be writing a screenplay from my first novel, “In Search of the Perfect Ravioli.” And the process is harder than long division, especially for a guy who was weaned on a manual Remington Rand and schooled on insightful description. A screenplay consists of: He said, She said and out.
My good friend Michael Jones, M.D., a Malibu resident and gifted gynecologist, when apprised of my problem suggested placing an item in my column announcing his lecture at one o’clock, Sept. 10 at the Senior Citizens Center in the Chamber of Commerce building on Stuart Ranch Road. Subjects to include Newest Advances in Breast Cancer Prevention and Organic Women’s Health. Q&A to follow. I told him that’s tantamount to an advertisement. You just can’t say that in a column that purports to be humorous. He understood.
But, friends and acquaintances, please don’t abandon me at this stage. Please trust that I am always on the lookout for new material at almost any cost.