Craig Ferguson is making me fat. 7.15.10

Craig Ferguson is making me fat.

For the past two years I've got up every morning, checked my email, fed the cat and headed to the gym for cardio before breakfast. And I've managed to keep my weight down to a nearly acceptable level (my trainer in fact says I should gain weight, only this time as muscle.) And true, it's not about the digital number that greets me every morning on the scale. (I do not weight myself after breakfast or during the day, as from experience that only ends in tears. You always weigh more in the afternoon than you do in the morning.) as your weight fluctuates over the course of a day and certainly over the course of several days. But it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

For the last year I've had no satellite tv service, I just couldn't afford the $75 a month. So my tvs sat untended, and more or less because tables to set books and clothes on. A few months ago I had a client who, long story short, ended up hooking up basic cable for me. So now I have basic tv. But I've found that the tvs still sit idle. I watched Glee and Lost on hulu.com I don't have HBO and have found no place to watch True Blood online (which sucks) (sucks, get it?)

(Here is a picture of my favorite naked vampire, Alexander Skarsgard)

but I do like to watch a little tv, usually Jay Leno when I go to bed, I watch his monologue and depending on who the guests are and how tired I am, I might keep watching, tucked in bed with the remote in hand, ready to turn off the moment I get depressed by the endless anti depressant commercials.

Have you noticed that one where even if you're on anti depressants they want you to take their even more anti depressant? Like we don't all have more than enough pill bottles in our medicine cabinets.

That said, I am taking antidepressants. I tried a few years ago but the one I was taking made my hyper. And I got a lot done during the day but couldn't sleep at night. So I had to take sleeping pills to sleep. This is no way to live, so I gave them all up cold turkey and never looked back.

But earlier this year, with the divorce, the closing of the gallery, the loss of a couple close friends, the economy, the financial situation.... I just felt like I was drowning in mud, and I decided to try again. I am taking a different one, and taking half a pill a day, and it's quite wonderful. I have one minor sexual side effect, but it's ok because I'm generally in such a good mood I don't care.

Anyway.

So one night I was up late and Jay had someone on i can't stand (probably either Tracy Morgan or Chris Rock or maybe one of the Kadashians sisters) and I switched over to letterman. Who I rarely if ever watch, I find him so obnoxious. I'm sure he's quite lovely in person, but for me the whole schtick has never worked for me.

Then Craig Ferguson came on and I was captivated. All along I had assumed he was just another late late talk show host and aren't they all the same? but no.



Craig actually made me laugh out loud. Which (see above) is a very good thing. and unusual. especially for tv. Plus he's cute! And very sexy. So I find myself lingering before going to bed at my usual 11:30 or 12 and waiting until 12:30 to watch Craig. The first few minutes are essential, the part before the opening monologue, just seconds after the Letterman logo fades. He is so funny! And he says so much with just his eyes. it's amazing the subtlety. Especially on television. Especially on my small 17 incher in the bedroom…

I usually am too tired to stay up for the whole show. But sometimes he has great guests. most of whom seem to have no idea what is going on. Craig’s interview style might be described, in gentle terms, as haphazard. Craig's style is, hmm... acerbic and laid back. Some of his guests look like animals caught in a trap. A couple of them have seemed downright hostile. I’ve even seen a couple of them get up and walk away!

Gentlemen of the court permission to treat the guest as hostile.

It’s uncomfortable sometimes but always hilarious.



the problem is, when I don't get to sleep until 1 or 1:30 I have a real hard time getting up at 7:30 or 8. and if I don't get up by 8am I have a hard time getting everything done in time to make the breakfast special at eat well, which ends abruptly at 10:30. For many years I've had breakfast every day at eat well, so much that I don't even have to order, they automatically bring me what I want. I'm not sure if you would describe that as stuck in a rut and predictable, or merely consistent. I like it because I don't have to think about what I'm going to eat and I don't have to negotiate onions and cream sauce and wheat etc in my food. I get the perfect breakfast at eat well every day for $6 which is awesome.



So when I don't get up in time, I am running late and I often have to reduce my time on the cardio machine or sometimes even skip it all together. Which has been causing my weight to slowly inch upwards. which makes me very unhappy.

not enough to counteract the antidepressants but still.

so my options are: stop watching Craig. the one part of my day that I am guaranteed to laugh. and how lovely to go to sleep having had a good laugh.

If I had satellite service I could record him on tivo. but I don't. I could record him on VHS (like, totally!) and I could watch last nights' episode at 11:30 when I need to go to bed. I could also zip through the antidepressant commercials, which even though I am on one, make me feel like I am still not taking enough drugs.

But then I'm watching yesterday's show. and honestly I'm not sure it's worth the effort and coordination.



the second alternative is to not worry about the breakfast special at eat well. it's not like they stop serving breakfast at 10:30, it just goes up by $1. so that's not much money, but I am worried about losing the discipline of my day. If I don't HAVE to be there by 10:30 (or hopefully earlier) it could easily turn into 11:30 or 12 and then it would be lunch time and I would have skipped breakfast, which I don't want to do. Usually I don't even eat lunch. and sometimes I don't even eat dinner. so breakfast is important to me. I also try to eat a big (healthy) breakfast, medium lunch and small dinner. it seems to work.

(this is me working out at the gym, my trainer took this with his new G4 iPhone)

If I could do cardio later in the day that might work, at least I'd still be doing it, But I know my schedule and that’s highly unlikely to happen. I try to make it back to the gym in the afternoon to work out. Sometimes if I've missed cardio in the morning I will do a stint before or after working out, but now that I'm back with my trainer he is pushing me and I usually don't have the energy.

so. at the moment it's a dilemma. laughter and late nights, weighing 5 lbs more than I want to, or early sleep and early cardio to be skinny and fabulous...

remember, nothing tastes as good as skinny feels…


©2010 RocketManLA.com Rod Reynolds

Marianne's cat R.I.P.

We tend to forget that our pets are animals and not people. My friend Colleen did a documentary movie called Psycho Kitties, which is about her cats and their behavioral problems. Most of which stem from the inability to communicate between animals and people. Cats don’t speak English and aren’t about to learn. So we need to learn to understand what they are saying, from their cues, in mannerism, behavior and vocally.



I grew up on a cattle farm. Over the course of my childhood we had pigs, chickens, horses, and cattle. Plus several cats and dogs, many of whom led a somewhat precarious existence (farms can be quite dangerous to smaller animals and children).



Animals are not people. When a kid falls down and hurts his knee he comes crying to mom for sympathy. Animals, when they are hurt, run away and hide. Have you ever had a cat who was sick? They don’t come and cuddle with you. They hide under the bed until you wonder where they are and you eventually track them down and take them to the vet. They don’t want to go to the vet. They want to hide under the bed.



Marianne said the other night that she was very upset that she had left her house for a couple hours and her cat had died while she was gone. She was feeling remorse that she hadn’t been there with him when he passed.

I have two thoughts on this.

One. Doesn’t Marianne, the course in miracles, and perhaps every modern spiritual program, teach us that we are always in the right place at the right time? How could Marianne, who is one of the most prominent spiritual leaders of our generation, not have felt, if the universe had wanted her to be with her cat when he died, that god would not have whispered in her ear, “stay home for another hour. Trust me”



Secondly. Perhaps Marianne’s cat was waiting, hanging on, lingering, perhaps too sick to crawl and hide in the bottom of the closet or under the bed to pass away. Perhaps he was waiting for a quiet moment alone, to pass to the next plane.

I’m just saying, this being my blog and therefore purely my opinion, and with love and respect, that Marianne is being too hard on herself. With public remorse, she compared the last moments of her cat’s life to the last moments of her mother’s life. This is not fair. Perhaps her mother would not have wanted to crawl into the back of the closet to die alone. Although who’s to know?

My friend Dallas, who teaches Science of Mind, said the other day that when he dies, he doesn’t want to be listed in the obituaries. He wants it in the announcements, with joy and pride. ‘Dallas is thrilled to have passed into the next dimension, thus beginning his journey in the next plane of action.’




Of course Marianne will miss her beloved cat (not pictured), as I will miss mine (pictured) when Sebastian passes on (or disappears, as my last one did), and we can join in her grief over the loss and lend our support. It’s a sad but natural part of life that our pets will die; they have a much shorter lifespan than we do. That doesn’t mean it isn’t emotional, or sorrowful, or that you won’t miss them. But it’s a natural part of life. And I think that if Marianne was supposed to be holding her cat's head when he took his last breath, she would have been.

©2010 RocketManLA.com Rod Reynolds Los Angeles CA

my thoughts on the 2010 Oscar race

I have seen all of the Oscar nominated performances and movies in the major categories. Possibly more than several of the voting academy members.

Now, I have been accused of having a slightly “off beat” sense of… well, everything. So take this with a grain of salt. But I also did go to film school, and I DID see all the Oscar nominated performances in all the major categories. So while art is subjective, it’s also possible that I know what I’m talking about, or at the very least, what I like.



Let’s start at the top - Best Picture.

The Hurt Locker is the apparent fore runner in this category. Although very few people have actually seen it. I initially avoided it because of the subject matter (war, people blowing up) but ended up seeing it at a screening with a Q&A by the writer, who was very very cute. However, the movie didn’t really turn my crank. It was ok; yes, things blew up, and there were some very tense scenes. But I wouldn’t want to sit through it again and I wouldn’t buy the DVD when it comes out.

Avatar. Please see my previous rant in this very blog. Entertaining? Sure. Innovative? Certainly. Did it keep my attention? I’ll give you that, at least the first screening. Best picture? No way. Here’s a well guarded secret. It’s not a very good movie. It should have been nominated in Best Animated Movie, because there's nothing real in that movie. Nothing. (But it's not the best animated movie, see below).

Best Picture is a title that belongs to a movie like Gladiator. Or even Driving Miss Daisy, or Shakespeare in Love. Something memorable, epic and/or outstanding and something you can see over and over and in ten years still want to see it. In two years, Avatar will be very old news.

District 9. I could barely sit through the first half. I thought I was going to die. I almost left the theatre. The second half had more of a plot. And just as it was taking off, it ended. I vote no.



The Blind Side. I had very little interest in seeing this, but it got such good buzz I tossed the cinematic dice. I thought it was an ok movie, could have been on the Lifetime TV channel, and throughout I thought Sandra Bullock (who I love) was horribly miscast. And I couldn’t stop staring at Tim McGraw’s (who I really love) hairpiece. These ‘based on a true story movies’ never really set too well with me. No, sorry.

An Education. Did anyone actually see this movie? OK, then why is everyone raving about it. It was a mess! First of all, the HIGH SCHOOL GIRL who is barely 16 years old is dating Peter Saarsgaard who is easily in his mid-thirties. And an obvious slime ball. She threw her life away on this guy, it was achingly obvious how it would end up, there was no redemption at the end. A morality tale? Yes, if you’re 16 years old don’t date a 35 year old guy. Even if it is the swingin’ sixties.

Inglorious Basterds. It took me three separate screenings and the lure of a Q&A with Quentin Tarantino (who I love but wouldn’t want to be stuck in an elevator with under any circumstance) to get through this movie from start to finish. Lots of talking. Lots more talking. Quentin loves to write and it shows. If this were a novel, it would be longer than War and Peace. That said, sure, interesting, a few sporadic but really shocking acts of violence but all in all, an interesting story that doesn’t really come together until you’ve thought about it for a few days, it’s so dense.



Precious. I went to see this opening weekend when it was only on at the Arclight in Hollywood, and paid an obscene $15.50 to see it. It was so intense I had to go see it again a few days later. One of my friends, who is black, criticized the movie quite harshly, because things like that happen all the time and no one would believe it. Another of my friends, who is white, said he wasn’t interested in seeing it because that sort of thing happens all the time and he didn’t want to know about it. I think I enjoyed it the second time more, because it’s a fairly unconventional film, and I was able to absorb it better the second time. The kind of movie where you see it and your first thought is, this will win Oscars.

A Serious Man. Are you serious? This was one of the least interesting movies I have ever seen. You go into a Cohen Brothers movie expecting quirky. But not boring. I didn’t find anything about this movie interesting, particularly the main character.

Up in the Air. Even before this came out, they were already talking Oscar buzz. In the trailers it looked like a fairly standard, if slightly clever, romantic comedy. In the theatre it played out exactly like that. You could see the plot twists coming a mile away, although I did like the way it ended, slightly off beat. But best picture? Hardly.

That leaves us with Pixar’s Up. I saw this movie six times in the theatre, and was exhilarated each and every time. Pixar is nothing short of downright amazing. I see a lot of animated movies (and I include Avatar in this category) and none of them have the charm, the sophistication, the depth of Pixar movies. Up is a glorious movie from start to finish and has some of the best characters ever brought to life on screen.



Those are the nominated movies. Now, some of my favorite movies from last year are not mentioned.

A Single Man is by far my favorite movie of the year, I have seen it six times, the first with a Q&A with writer/director Tom Ford (who is amazing, and beautiful), the last with a Colin Firth (who is also amazing, and beautiful). To me, this is hands down the best picture of the year. I understand that it has a relatively small audience due to the subject matters, but that is unfortunate, because it’s a stunning movie from start to finish, that will endure for decades.

My second favorite movie of the year is 500 Days of Summer. Also not nominated. Also I have seen 5 or 6 times. A stunning movie, on so many levels, and much more than it appears to be. Everyone who I have dragged kicking and screaming to this movie has loved it, and said, wow, that’s so not what I thought it was going to be. Zooey Deschanel is and always will be annoying. This movie is carried by Joseph Gordon Levitt, who I had the chance to talk with briefly after another screening, and I told him I was actively campaigning to have him nominated for best actor. Didn’t happen, and I’m not sure he believed me, but at least I had the chance to say.

Star Trek was a movie that had been bandied about for possible Oscar consideration, in the end it didn’t make the cut. I went into this movie with very low expectations, and was very pleasantly surprised. JJ Abrams did a wonderful reboot of the franchise. And a very enjoyable, entertaining and provocative movie in itself. I would have included it in the nominated pictures. Although it doesn’t deserve to win.

Also, Nine was stunning. Stunning.
I also loved The Proposal.
And I loved Fame, which got shot down in flames before anyone had the chance to see it.



Best Actress
Sandra Bullock in The Blind Side. I love Sandra, but see above. She seemed horribly miscast and I didn’t believe her for a second. She was awesome in one of my real favorites of the year, the Proposal alongside the wonderful (on many levels) Ryan Reynolds.

Helen Mirren in The Last Station. An engaging movie and Helen’s performance was completely flawless.

Carey Mulligan in An Education. Well I didn’t like this movie, and she was in every frame. Coincidence?

Gabourey Sidibe in Precious. Completely believable and real. I didn’t feel like she was acting at all. Heartbreaking.

Meryl Streep. I love Meryl, as do all gay boys. And I enjoyed the movie Julie and Julia, both times I saw it. I had some problems with the filming of the movie - the awkwardness of having Meryl stand on a box throughout the movie to appear as tall as the real life Julia Child was extremely distracting and unnecessary. And I did feel the performance was a touch self conscious.



My choice? One would think Helen Mirren, a great performance in a period piece would be the forerunner. Press has Sandra Bullock getting the award for being adored and successful, or Meryl based on her track record (I also loved Meryl in Fantastic Mr Fox).


Best Actor
Jeff Bridges was stunning in Crazy Heart. Just stunning. Completely inhabiting the character. It was so real you could smell the booze on his breath.



George Clooney. I’ve never liked him, since way back when he was annoying on ER, and then had the haircut in the 90s and makes everyone (but me) swoon. I’m sorry, not a fan, for many reasons. Not the least of which is that he chews the scenery through every movie I've ever seen him in.

Colin Firth. See above. A Single Man is an outstanding movie that connected with me on so many levels. Colin is in every scene and Colin is the movie. First rate all the way. Hell to the Yeah!

Morgan Freeman in Invictus. I thought this movie was boring and really hard to watch. I must admit I didn’t make it to the end, so it’s possible he pulled something out of his hat and left the room in shreds. What I saw of it didn’t affect me though.

Jeremy Renner in The Hurt Locker. Gorgeous guy. Well acted. Not a classic performance. He's got better things coming.


Best Supporting Actress
Penelope Cruz. Can’t stand her, ever, even in Nine, which I loved. I can’t believe she was even nominated last year for her screaming in that awful Woody Allen movie, let alone won. Ugh. Please go away.

Vera Framiga in Up In The Air.
A solid performance but nothing truly ground breaking.

Maggie Gyllenhaal in Crazy Heart. An OK performance in an OK movie. I’ve never found her particularly appealing for some reason. Her brother, Jake, on the other hand…

Anna Kendrick in Up In The Air. Ok, she was cute and did a good job. She’s got the stunned fish out of water look down pat. Next.



Mo’Nique in Precious. I walked away both times from this movie saying she deserves an Oscar. I never thought she would be nominated, because the performance is extremely dark in a very dark movie. Good for her though, she deserves this. Will she get it? If she can get out of her own way, I think so.


Best Supporting Actor
Christopher Plummer in The Last Station. Supporting actor? Wasn’t he the main character, Leo Tolstoy in the epic finale of Tolstoy’s life? Supporting actor? Regardless, he was brilliant and completely engrossing.

Matt Damon in Invictus. Matt Damon is wonderful as Jason Bourse and in nothing else. Please make a note of it.

Woody Harrelson in The Messenger. A hard movie to watch. As much as I’m totally infatuated with Ben Foster, this movie was hard to take. Woody was so awful in 2012, whatever good he accomplished here gets cancelled out, sorry.

Stanley Tucci in The Lovely Bones
I loved this book and the movie was sort of interesting but nothing even approaching the novel. That said, Stanley’s performance is quite perfect. Such a marked contrast from his also great role in Julie and Julia, which makes it all the more obvious.

Christophe Waltz. Really, the only common thread in the disparate chapters of Inglorious Basterds. Again, Supporting actor? He deserves Best Actor. Completely creepy and also pathetic, and 100% believable.




Best Director

Kathryn Bigelow for The Hurt Locker
James Cameron for Avatar
Quentin Tarantino for Inglorious Basterds
Lee Daniels for Precious.
Jason Reitman for Up in the Air.

My personal feeling is Lee Daniels for Precious. He made some interesting choices. I don’t think he will win. I think it’s between Bigelow and her ex husband James Cameron. But it would be cool if Tarantino wins.





Best Song
Two tracks from The Princess and the Frog, a Disney animated movie, written by Randy Newman. A great movie, under appreciated. The music plays a huge part in the ambiance. But can you hum a note from either of these songs?

'The Weary Kind' from Crazy Heart. T Bone Burnett deserves the nomination, the music is integral to the film.

'Take It All' from Nine. A woefully under appreciated movie. This song is one of the three huge stand outs in the movie, and Marion Cotillard's performance is heartbreakingly fierce.

(the other song I don’t know as I never saw the movie 'Paris 36')



Best Animated movie
Coraline – stunning stop motion animation, clever, but kind of a thin story.

Fantastic Mr Fox. I ended up seeing this three times, though not entirely of my own volition. An uneven movie - the first 20 minutes are so good, the rest can never catch up, and there are some embarrassingly awkward moments towards the end, as well as some classic Wallace and grommet style animation farce.

The Princess and the Frog. A wonderful movie from Disney in conventional 2D animation, a lost art and simply gorgeous. Slightly unmemorable, though.

The Secret of Keli (I have not seen this)

Up – see above. I can’t tell you how much I love this movie. On so many levels simply Up Standing



©2010 Rod Reynolds RocketManLA.com

on judgement, and saying too much

Sunday morning. I’d slept in a bit, I had been up late Saturday night, a bit of an almost date maybe, a massage client/ fuck buddy took me out for dinner after the massage portion but, somewhat oddly, before the fuck portion (because usually they happen synchronously). I don’t like to eat late because it keeps me up past my usual sleep time, which is around midnight at the latest.

So I was in the shower this morning when he called, and I put a load of laundry in and was getting ready to spend a half hour on the treadmill at the gym, then breakfast at eat well, as usual, then meditation at the labyrinth to prepare for my day.

But there was a message, at 9:07 am, which is unusual, particularly for a Sunday. And it wasn’t from my credit card company, which was a nice change of pace. So I listened, “Hi, this is Brian, I’ve seen your ad a few times and was wondering if you are available this morning.”

Hmm. Well, I have several ads running, because I do several things. No indication in the message as to what he was looking for. So I called. “Hi, this is Brian.”

"Hi, this is Rod, you just called me a few minutes ago.”

"Oh yeah, Hi., I saw your ad on craigs list."

Still, no clue. Is he calling about my handyman ad? My massage ad? Body grooming? Does he want a photo shoot? de-cluttering? Or does he want to buy that dresser I have posted in the for sale section. Or that framed 1968 Beatles poster I have been trying to sell for more than a year.

Ah, the perils of being a jack of all trades (the second part of that phrase is master of none, but I prefer to leave that part off. )

‘Great. What are you looking for?” I said, casually, and, perhaps, somewhat tenuously.

He seemed confused, perhaps a bit annoyed, like am I that stupid that I don’t know what I am hawking on craigs list. “You do massage, right?

Yes. Are you looking for today?
Preferably.
Right now?
Preferably.
Do you want to come here or do you want me to come there?
Can you come here?
OK.
How soon can you be here?
I can leave right now.

He gave me his address. The deal was in the bag. Fortunately I had already showered for the gym and was ready to leave. Since it was Sunday, I had decided to wear my good sweat pants, the thinner ones that aren’t as warm as the thick ones, but they make me look thinner and/or more shapely, and they have pockets so they almost look like pants. If I wear underwear I can get away with wearing them out in public. This is America after all,. So I don’t have to take my pants and change in the truck in the parking lot at the gym, like I do pretty much every morning.

So I was all ready to go. I hopped in the truck and headed over to Melrose and La Brea, a neighborhood in which I had lived for several years, so knew it well. It’s about a 40 minute drive, with little to no traffic. But that’s ok, it’s Sunday morning, there won’t be much traffic.

Although invariably I get stuck on Franklin behind someone Sunday driving 20 MPH and no passing lanes all the way up to Western. Ugh.

So it took me a little longer than I would have liked, but I was only ten minutes late from my projected 10 am arrival time,

And I found a place to park, which is almost unheard of in that neighborhood.

I walked up to the sprawling, well maintained house, a Silver BMW in the driveway, immaculate front yard with a high wood fence. I couldn’t find the entrance. So I called, “Hi, I am out front, but I can’t find the entrance.”

He said, do you see the silver BMW?
Yes
Go right into the garden and I will come and get you.

A minute later, what I thought was just a fence actually opened up in one section and it was a gate. No latch, no handle on the outside. Clever!

Brian was tall, average body, short curly gray hair, attractive but unremarkable. His left hand ever so lightly grazed the tip of his crotch as he motioned me inside. He was wearing sleeper sweat pants and no socks. It was a bit chilly for no socks, I thought.

We stepped into his living room, and I said, How’s it going. He said, good.

I followed him in to the bedroom and took off my jacket. I was wearing a white tank top (wife beater) and have worked out every day for the last four days in a row. So everything was sticking out where it should and not sticking out where it shouldn’t.

Without slowing, without missing a beat, or pausing for reflection, he walked over to his dresser, and reached into his wallet.

He turned back to me, “Here’s $40, how about we call it a day.”


Wow, I wasn’t expecting that.

He put the money in my hand as I pulled my jacket back on. I left without saying another word, and neither did he. I imagine he was expecting me to say something, but at that point, what can you say.

Aside from being mortified, “God Bless You” was my thought.

But I didn’t say that. I thought of Marianne Willamson; she often says, when you have a problem, you go, I need to go talk to god about this, let me get back to you.

But not out loud.




I thought about last night, when having an uncomfortably late dinner, at 10pm, at a diner in Los Feliz, with my favorite fuck buddy and/or massage client whom I’ve have had a serious crush on for months. We’ve gotten together quite a few times, usually late at night. Usually when he’s been out drinking.

His name is Luis. He is a great guy, Latino, very black hair, attractive (I’d have absolutely no problem being seen in public with him, or taking him to an event where I would be meeting some friends), but not so much that I am intimidated. Just slightly bigger than me; enough to totally turn me on, but not enough to make me feel small. Perfect smooth light brown skin and a great attitude, even though he is an actor (ugh) he is also a writer (yay). Plus he’s buff as hell, and always smells great (which is more crucial than one might casually think).

Somebody told me once, any relationship can only move as fast as the slowest person in it, which is true, but frustrating. I’m a Gemini, I want things to move fast.



But, we’ve been slowly inching along, we even got to the point where he told me his real name, and I told him mine.

Wow, this is what intimacy means in 2010.

Real names? You must be kidding!

So we had progressed to having a casual (meaning he was in sweat pants, and the event was spontaneous, we just both happened to be hungry, late dinner in a trendy (lots of asymmetrical haircuts and black clothes) los feliz café on a Saturday night. This was almost a true “shave above the knee” event.

While I am not really open to people about writing my series/book, for proprietary reasons, I do sometimes talk about it, and Luis and I had spoken quite a bit about my writing project, without going into too much specifics.

So at the same time, while we were eating, we were talking about it in more detail and he seemed fairly taken aback about what I do.

“You actually clean people’s houses in a jock strap? Or naked? I just can’t imagine doing that! “

He seemed kind of bemused, maybe a little turned on, maybe a whole lot horrified at the same time.

I was telling him what I have learned, through course in miracles and science of mind, to not judge people, to live in the moment, to surrender, to forgive everyone all the time for everything.

He said, you must get some real mean people. You must get some very strange people calling you.

Of course, I said but by now I can usually tell by their emails or phone calls and some people I don’t follow up with, or I say I’m too busy (which, truthfully, I am),



I have also learned a new perspective from Marianne Williamson – what would Jesus say? “I like him.” And to go with that.. which is to say, without judgment.

You know, it actually works.

Also I meditate and pray before I go into anyone’s house, I ask to be safe, to know what they really want, to allow me to help them. And for lots of money,

He laughed at the last part, which I had quickly added, while true, but also because I could see his eyes start to glaze over when I started talking about taking god with me to my jobs, about seeing the innocent child of god in everyone, and about praying before (also during and after) each and every client.

I thought about Marianne, saying, you say all this, but “to your self”


I thought about this last night as I was going to bed alone, because when we got back to my place, Luis gave me a hug instead of coming up for “the usual”, and said, “we should get together this week.”

A mixed message.

I wondered if I’d over stepped the comfort zone with the god and prayer issues.

It also might have been the naked jock strap cleaning house thing
Or the body shaving and grooming of total strangers.

He said he could never do that. Whereas I see this ability (willingness, and lack of judgment) as an asset.

Or maybe he was just tired, as he had claimed.

But I felt like maybe I had laid out just a little too much of myself for him.


So back to not saying “God Bless You” to Brian.
I didn’t say it, but I thought it. As I was walking back down his sidewalk to my truck. Way too early on a Sunday morning.



And I thought, he must do this a lot, because he didn’t seem at all awkward about telling me to leave. And he was also thoughtful to give me $40 for my time. It all seemed fairly , while not exactly smooth, or rehearsed, but comfortable for him to turn someone down who is standing on front of him and tell him, you’re just not good enough, please go away.

He judged me big time.

And I really felt judged. In the truck on my way to breakfast I thought, it’s so funny because just yesterday I had a client who was rapturously excited with me, telling me how amazing I am, how much he loved my hair, and my body, and my touch. (and my dick, duh).

And here mere hours later, I am pushed away.



I went home, and looked at myself in the mirror. Am I that hideous? It reminded me of back in college, I would spend hours getting dressed and made up and looked like I just stepped out of Duran Duran, to go out to clubs, and I’d go there and stand there alone (or dance alone), and I’d go home and I’d cry and I’d want to die (apologies to Morrissey for that line, but it sums it up perfectly.)

So what do I learn here? I just show up. I am the same person for both guys. All three guys. All guys. All people.

Yeah some days I have more time to work out than others, but essentially I was the same person standing naked (physically and/or emotionally) in front of both guys, and getting completely opposite reactions. Therefore it can’t be that I’m doing something wrong. I can accept that, and I don’t need to judge either of them.

I did feel like he lost out in this situation, because a) I’m very good at what I do and b) he clearly needs to relax. I am curious as to his thought process when he opened that gate and I was standing there, and in that brief fraction of a second, barely having said three words to each other, he decided it wasn’t going to work out. That brutal snap of instantaneous judgment. It can’t have felt good,.

What a shame.

I feel like we both lost out.

And I do feel judged..

And I think I need to keep my thoughts about god to myself.



I am off to the labyrinth to meditate on this.

©2010 Rod Reynolds RocketManLA.com

Facebook Unfriending and Psychics

Yeah, I’ve unfriended a couple facebook "friends".

One was this porn star, who I never met and have no idea who he was, and was very young and very cute, but he posted several times an hour to vote for him in some porn contest. I got tired of seeing the endless propaganda, even though he was cute. I eventually wrote to him and said, perhaps you truly are the best bottom of the year, but I would never vote for someone who was obviously so desperate for votes. Then I quietly unfriended him.



It’s quite possible he deserved the, uhh, position (I have no idea if he won or not), perhaps it is my polite Canadian upbringing but I believe in the power of attraction rather than pummeling someone over the head with narcissitic self promotion.

Which helps to explain why I have been in LA for twenty years and why I am still not famous and my blog readership numbers in the low hundreds as opposed to the virtual thousands (or millions out there, if you happen to be Ashton Kutcher).


I’ve been unfriended a couple times. Probably more than a few times, but I don’t keep track, and as far as I know, there’s no way to keep track of how many friends you had yesterday as opposed to how many you have today, and who is missing. I have about 500 friends, and of those, I’ve never met about 480 of them. So they can come and go and I probably would never notice.

I noticed when my wife (now ex-wife) unfriended me. It didn’t come as a surprise, really.

I have another friend, more of a professional friend as opposed to a 'lets go to the movies' friend, who I’ve known for a few years. She is a psychic and I have visited her several times. I’ve always thought we got along really well and her advice, for the most part, was shockingly and consistently spot on. I even referred several friends (including my Mom) and they all raved about how wonderful and accurate she is.



Now, I suppose, like any professional, she likes what she does and she’s good at what she does. And part of being in a nurturing profession is to make people feel like they are being nurtured. I have several clients who, at least I hope, no, I know they feel loved and supported. Usually because, well, I am a nice guy first of all. But before I meet anyone, especially before I go into their house, I do a prayer and meditation, to be present, to be safe, to be nurturing, to see this person as the beautiful innocent child of god that they were created as, and thus remain, Despite any apparent evidence that seems to contradict this.

I’ve had clients who have become overly familiar, or reliant on me, or wanting more. More than I am willing to give. Sometimes I wish I were a better actor, sometimes I think I am too good of an actor.



As Marianne Williamson said last night, every person in front of you is a lesson for you (and for them). Although sometimes the lesson is to know that you need to leave.

So this psychic I’ve seen several times. Our sessions are always lengthy and emotionally intimate. Not that I necessarily wanted to go out dancing with her, (although I’m sure she would be fun), but with all the information we shared I suppose it made me feel closer to her than I truly am.

I suppose when I am massaging and touching someone over their entire body, that’s pretty intimate. I suppose it’s only natural to feel something.

Although, truthfully, I have had clients that I felt something for, and I have had clients that turned out to be more than clients. I mean, I’m not a therapist, there isn’t a really clear legal line that can’t be crossed here.


Now, I’m always a little anxious with psychics. I am always trying to develop my own spiritual abilities, and am anxious of people that are well ahead of me on the curve. I wish I understood people better.

So I’m always wondering, when in the presence of a true psychic, how much they are getting from me. How much do they really know? Are they getting information that they can use? Are they getting information that they don’t want to tell me?

Are they getting information that tells them under no circumstances befriend this person on facebook.


Now, when I joined facebook a few years ago I inadvertently asked everyone in my address book to be my friend. It’s far too easy and they make it seem so innocuous, you hit one button and suddenly you’re out there in the world. Several people wrote to me and said they weren’t on facebook (many of them have since come around).

My therapist was in my address book and he wrote to me and said he didn’t want to facebook any of his clients, which is perfectly reasonable.




My trainer told me that he had hundreds of friend requests pending but he hadn’t accepted anyone, and to not take it personally. (I’m not quite sure I understand that modus operandi, honestly)

But my psychic signed on as my friend. Every now and then I would see a post from her about her vacation, her relatives, her love life.

Sometimes I post several times a day, sometimes a week will go by without any facebook news from my homestead in the hills of Silver Lake. I do want to be out there (further than, say my trainer) but I don’t want to be obnoxious (like, say that porn star guy).

I do have a somewhat offbeat sense of life sometimes, perhaps my facebook posts are sometimes a little quirky. Perhaps of my 500 virtual facebook pals, 480 of them have clicked on “don’t show me posts from this guy any more” button. And no one is actually reading them. (I know some people do read them because occasionally they respond).

So if my psychic friend was offended by my endless posts about Channing Tatum (which, knowing her, if I do know her that is, she most certainly wouldn’t be) or she grew tired of my quirky observations on society and culture, or she took one of my Course in Miracles quotes the wrong way.



Or she got tired of seeing pictures of my cat, Sebastian.

Or MAYBE she knows something about me that I don’t know. Or that I do know but it was too much for her to talk about. Maybe she knows that the ship is about to sink and doesn’t want to get sucked down by the undertow.

Maybe she was getting bad karmic energy from being my virtual friend.

Maybe she was simply weeding down her list of friends and I didn’t make the cut. Maybe I was in the bubble, on the cusp, and maybe she had a real struggle cutting me loose, but ultimately just bit her lip and hit the delete key.

Maybe she decided to be friends with my ex-wife instead of me. Although, considering the conversations we have shared over the years, I seriously doubt that.

Honestly, I don’t know what to think.

I know, I think too much...

Rod Reynolds
©2010 RocketManLA.com

Dear Channing, I mean Dear John

Friday night, rainy, cold. Very rainy. I had no clients. Lots of work to do, as always, but no clients and didn’t think I’d get any. When it rains in LA the city shuts down. It’s like a snow day in the Midwest.

I had a pass to see 'Dear John'. I like Amanda Seyfried from the ABBA movie, 'Mamma Mia' and I like her upcoming movie 'Letters to Juliet', which I saw a test screening a few months ago. And it is directed by Lasse Hallström, the director of ABBA the Movie (and several dozen ABBA videos). So I’m interested.


But no, Dear John is all about the boy. Channing Tatum. I’d read one review that said the movie was terrible, but that the director knew what he had, and showed Tatum either shirtless or in a t-shirt throughout the movie.

I'm in.

Oh, I am so cheap.

But knowing it is half the battle. Besides, I can quit any time.




So, it’s raining, it’s cold, it’s late Friday night, I get to the theatre in Glendale, and the ticket girl says, Oh, I’m sorry, that showing is sold out. I can get you into the 10:30 show.

Sold out? BBb-bbut it’s raining ? !

AND it’s a B movie chick flick!


I said, there isn’t one seat available?

She looked at her screen, and pondered, “yeah, you can likely find one seat, but it will probably be the worst seat in the theatre.

I looked at the marquee listing the 16 movies currently playing, I had seen all of the ones I was even remotely interested in, some of them several times over. So I said, ‘OK, give me the ticket and if I can’t find a seat I will come back and get a ticket to the later show.‘

So I went in, down the hall and rounded the corner into the theatre.

It was PACKED.

Packed with girls.

And when I say girls, I mean like maybe 16 years old. I don’t know. They all look so young. It’s hard to tell these days because young women dress a lot ‘older’ than they did when I was 16.

I found a seat, quite a decent seat, actually, (with a good view because everyone else in the theatre was under 5’ 2”) and settled in, prepared to see a horrible movie with some hopefully great man candy.

Which is pretty much exactly what it was. Based on a Nicholas Sparks novel. So that says all you need to know. The two main characters are introduced in the first scene, they are attached to others, but those relationships are faltering. The attraction is instant. They get together against logic. Then they get separated (in this case Tatum is in the army or something and gets shipped off to Afghanistan or somewhere.) So they write letters back and forth until they can get back together.

My suspension of disbelief was strained when the screen showed Tatum writing in perfect script, these really intense and longing letters. But I decided to play along.

It doesn’t all go smoothly of course. There is lots of drama, lots of tears, lots of kissing, even a couple fist fights.




OK, more importantly, Tatum is indeed shirtless several times in the film. The first time we see him, at the beach (always a good idea), surf board in hand. The girls in the audience screamed. Literally.

Seyfried accidentally drops her purse off the dock, and Tatum dives into the ocean, down to the bottom, and rescues her handbag. He comes back up the beach, his perfect body (trim but not overly worked out so still accessible - take a lesson, Taylor Lautner) dripping wet, his shorts sliding down, barely hanging on his perfect hips.

OK, to me, already worth the price of admission.

And by that I mean the hassle, not the actual dollar amount.


Then when Tatum and Seyfried first kiss, the girls in the theatre swooned. Literally. Later, when the camera dollies in in anticipation of their first kiss, the girl beside me had her hands on her face and was squirming in her seat and moaning. I’m not kidding. I was looking at her out of the corner of her eye, not wanting to disturb the subject, as she was often more animated than the actual movie.

Not to mention, to me, a sociological profundity.



At one point, something bad happens and the lovers are separated. I looked over and she was crying. Later on they break up. She was sobbing, and muttering under her breath.

I was watching her, and wondering if she’d seriously ever seen a movie before. Aside from the Twilight series, obviously.

I mean, every movie cliché in the book was unfolding on the screen exactly as you would anticipate. But this girl, and seemingly every other girl in the theatre, was on an emotional roller coaster. I’m sure if she were of legal drinking age, there would be cosmopolitans around the table later with her three best friends.



I must admit the movie looked fabulous, and was directed in accordance with romantic drama protocol, and the story unfolded exactly as any Film 101 student could predict from watching the trailer. I admired the director’s restraint with the ending, and not drawing it out. I mean, right from the opening five minutes you can tell how it’s going to pan out. Even from the movie poster itself you can tell how the movie is going to end. So when it finally gets to that point, Hallström wisely felt it needed no explanation, and the ending is one brief, almost teaser scene with no dialogue. Stunning lighting, but not a word. To me, it said all you need to know.

But, as the credits started to roll, the girl beside me sat up and said, quite loudly, That’s IT? That’s the end?

She actually seemed quite upset.

But possibly, in retrospect, not at how the movie ended but that it had to end at all. And unlike the Twilight series, there is no blatantly obvious sequel in the pipeline. Although now that it beat Avatar last weekend at the box office, there may well be a sequel.

Because that girl sitting beside me in the theatre on a cold, rainy Friday night in Glendale, and from my viewpoint, most of the similarly aged and similarly gendered viewers quite enjoyed the movie.



As did I, but for entirely different reasons.

Rod
Los Angeles
©2010 RocketManLA.com

Mel Gibson - older, yes. faded, no.

In yesterday’s LA Times (Feb 1, 2010) Ben Fritz ben.fritz@latimes.com writes:



"Mel Gibson still has his fans, but after a long and controversial absence from the big screen, his overall appeal seems to have faded. The thriller, 'Edge of Darkness', which marked Mel Gibson’s first lead role since 2002’s 'Signs', opened to a fine but not fantastic $17.1 million."

(read his full blog here)




I have been a Mel Gibson fan since I first saw ‘Road Warrior’ while attending film school in 1982. I have seen all his movies since; bought them all on VHS, then again on laserdisc, then again on DVD. Some I love: 'Signs' is one of my all-time favorite movies, a film that is so flavored and nuanced I never tire of watching it.



'Conspiracy Theory' (with Julia Roberts) is consistently cited (by me) as one of the most under-rated performances of his career; he is simply outstanding. ‘What Women Want’ (with Helen Hunt) is a clever romantic comedy that I have watched several times over. Gibson is remarkably funny and consistently charming.



Others I don’t care for (I have never been able to make it all the way through 'Braveheart') but I have seen them all, including the ones that he directed but did not appear in. While I did not particularly enjoy the violence in the 'Passion of Christ', I could not help but admire the film on several artistic levels.



Through the recent public events surrounding his personal life, it seems unlikely that we would be friends (I am in more than one of those groups that he has voiced objections to), but who knows. We've never been in the same room and had a conversation. Although that is a little disappointing, ultimately it doesn’t affect my enjoyment of his movies.

In 1985 I had the cover for People Magazine’s 'Sexiest Man Alive' (he was the original) framed and hanging on my wall through several moves and several cities over nearly twenty years (it eventually suffered a fatal accident and had to be thrown out, otherwise I would still have it.)




To me, Mel Gibson has not lost his appeal and I would go see any movie with him in it. And buy the DVD when it comes out. Even when he is merely voicing an animated character (ie ''Chicken Run', which would be a hilarious movie with or without voice over Gibson's contributions).

Having seen the trailers for 'Edge of Darkness', I was not the least bit interested in the scenario. I had suffered through 'Taken' starring Liam Neesan (I know it was a big hit, but to me it was unbearably mean) and 'Law Abiding Citizen' starring Gerard Butler (the less said about that the better, in my opinion, except for the cool plot twist and one memorable scene near the end) and was in no mood for a knock off violent revenge movie. But I paid my $12 (plus $14 for snacks at the concession) and hit the theatre on opening night.



Truthfully, I did not enjoy the movie and could not wait for it to be over. To be fair, it was not as emotionally painful as I had imagined, but I must say the movie did nothing to enrich the fabric of my life. A point worth mentioning is that I went by myself; none of my friends would go see this movie with me. Neither because nor despite the presence of Mel Gibson, per se, but because of the violent and vengeful nature of the film itself.

I realize predicting movies box office takes is a cultural event in Los Angeles, but even I didn’t think it would overtake Avatar last weekend at the box office. But I disagree that Mel Gibson’s acting career is over. Clint Eastwood is still going, and he’s in his 70’s.

Rod
Los Angeles
©2010 RocketManLA.com