Somehow I zipped this movie by accident. It was nominated but didn’t win the best picture Oscar. I’m supposed to only be watching the winners. But oh well. Burt Reynolds was a hottie. Great arms. I grew up with the more fun Bandit character from all those trucking movies, but I rather like this more ominous side of him. I can see why my mother had a thing for him. It’s a good movie. I would suspect it was probably quite disturbing back in the day too.
At tonight’s writers’ meeting we discussed my piece called Gun Play that first saw the light of day right here on this blog many months ago. Actually I presented it just the same as I did here. I wanted to see their suggestions before I did any rewriting. I assumed I’d go back in, name people, likely take it to the third person, incorporate dialogue, and basically turn the thing into a normal story. But they rather like it the way it is, without names, without dialogue, in the first person. Unexpected. I really don’t know what to do with these things, how to handle them. I was absolutely sick thinking about them reading this piece, thinking about the discussion we’d have, because it’s all so close to me and so traumatizing. Still, the more I deal with it, the easier it becomes. I may be ready to take it to the next level, to finally fictionalize the beast.
Mood: a little charged up
Drinking: 100% pure unsweetened pomegranate juice (try drinking this and talking about poop!)
Listening To: Cripple Creek Ferry, Neil Young
Hair: tousled stiff