Break the Cycle

It all started with good ol' "Law & Order."

I was sitting at the kitchen table with my folks on a Sunday afternoon, a few months ago, having brunch. I asked my dad, "what's on tonight? What are we watching?" He answered back, "Law & Order: Criminal Intent,"

Wait a second, I thought. That already happened. We just watched that. What the fuck?! But we hadn't just watched that. In fact, a week had passed by between the two episodes.

Had I somehow lost a week of my life? No, of course not. That's fuckin' stupid. No, I was very aware of myself and my actions. I just let time pass me by. It's like I let it flow through me rather than flow with it. Story of my life.

Literally.

So, what's, ah, little OCD boy to do? Break the cycle. Or, at least, try my best to.

Lately, I've been trying my damndest to stay away from "do-overs." If something feels like it's becoming routine, I switch things up. I'm determined not to live my life, Nick at Nite style. Constant reruns.

Still, to a certain extent, there are some traditions worth keeping.

Yeah, I still spend my Sundays at the folk doing laundry, but I usually leave afterward. In and out, ya know. Plus, I now have detergent and bleach at my place, too. That way, if I want to make plans or, ya know, not spend the whole day waiting for laundry, I can just do it at my place and hang out, do whatever, ya know?

I think it's healthy to spend time with my family. I love my family. I just don't know if it's healthy to spend all of my time with them. I don't want them to think that I need them, that I depend on them.

Don't think for a second that I don't know how harsh that sounds. I don't mean to be a dick when I say that. I just can't have my life stuck in a constant, never-ending loop.

Then again, there is Chinese Friday night. Can't miss that, right? That tradition is nearly 15 years old! How can I break that?!

Well, I just...do. I can do whatever I want. It's my life.

And I want to live my life...not recycle it.

Screenwriting 101

It was supposed to be an epic romance, an affair to remember.

And make no mistake, it was, is, and will be that, but I think I'm going to take "Five Years Apart" in a different direction.

It's going to have everything I originally planned, content-wise, but I think there are deeper, richer themes than that of romance and--in keeping with what I wrote in my last entry--Happily Ever After that should be emphasized.

Now, I don't want to mislead people. The movie is still about love: pure unadulterated, intoxicating love. It's going to be a very romantic movie. But as we all know, sometimes, for better or worse, things just don't turn out the way you want them to turn out. That's one idea that this script is really going to explore in-depth, as well as delving into themes of family, responsibility, that grey area we all know as Right & Wrong and, ultimately, self-actualization.

I think, for this movie to truly work, I think the characters need to grow up, learn a little before they get what they want. And for one or two of the characters, just like in Real Life, what they want isn't what they're necessarily gonna get in the end, even after they make positive (or negative, depending on how one looks at the behaviors of the characters) changes in their lives.

Speaking of growing up, I'm cutting the character that's based on me pretty close to the bone and, in writing this character, not gonna lie, I'm really nervous about whether or not people are going to embrace him or not.

He's kind of a whiner. I mean, he cries...a lot. Not only that, but he's a creature of habit to the extreme. Not only that, but he's kind of, well, a depressed person. The opening scene pretty much explains him to a T. We find him getting dumped by a girl who thinks he's a really sweet guy, but he's just too much. He's always on. He's an onion of neuroses with layers upon layer of quirks.

But what kind of a story would it be if our hero didn't experience some sort of growth? It would be flat, static, and one-note.

Here's the thing: I don't want this movie to have any villains.

I don't want to necessarily judge any of my characters. They're just people doing what they think is right for them at any given moment. They are people who aren't bad, just complicated. They are people who are misunderstood. In other words, characters we thought were complete douchebags in the beginning may become more sympathetic as the story progresses, while, on the other hand, characters who we maybe were rooting for in the beginning might become less likable. And then things might just double back again. Who knows?

Well, me, actually. Only I know how this movie ends.

The truth is, there's a lot of fertile ground to explore in this script of mine. And lucky for me, a lot of it is Based On A True Story.

Well, at least 90% of it. The names and places were changed to protect the innocent and, well, the less so.

Seventeen pages down, five years to go.

All The Small Things

So, my story got cut.

You know, the one with the CSI: NY guy? Yeah, they they deep-sixed it.

Basically, my people couldn't get a hold of his people. I found out about two days prior to the due date (Friday, 9/5, at noon) that the story wasn't going to happen.

And ya know? I was okay with that. And I'll tell ya why.

Last Tuesday, I knew we were getting close to the wire and the window for my editor to get a contact, much less an interview scheduled for me, was getting smaller and smaller. Plus, she had a funeral to go to that day. She asked me if I could make a few calls, do my own little investigation.


So, I did some Googling and I found a name and a number for the Director of Development for the gala and he put me in touch with the Executive Director of the organization sponsoring the gala, the top of the food chain, and I was able to conduct a half-hour phone interview with her. I learned a lot about her nonprofit organization.

Alas, they cut the story.

The reason I'm okay with it is because my editor was so impressed with all of the legwork I put in and my resourcefulness, that she asked me if I'd still be willing to write a shorter version of the story (of course!). She also informed me that, because of my hard work, she'd keep me in mind for a lot more stories in the future.

See, it all worked out in the end.

Several months ago, I wrote about how I had to believe in happy endings, that I had to believe in the idea that good things come to those who wait. Well, I still believe in happy endings.

I don't think that will ever go away.

However, I think I now lack that bit of boyish, naive optimism that embraces the notion of Happily Ever After. There are no grand, sweeping finales in this life, no neatly gift-wrapped packages.

And the more I think about it, that's probably the way it should be.

For me, happiness for me has always been about the small triumphs, the tiny victories, the random acts of kindness, tenderness, selflessness that can occur each and every day. Happiness, for me anyway, is when I can go to bed, each night, close my eyes, sigh, and think to myself, ya know what? I have an amazing group of friends and a wonderful family that loves me...or Today was a good day. I did a good job with this and/or that and I'm proud of myself.

[BLOGGER'S NOTE: WTF?!?! Watch! I guaran-fucking-tee you that, any second now, he's going to write "love means not ever having to say you're sorry." Wait for it!! It's like, hey, who's up for a quick round of "Kumbaya?!" Jesus, what a sappy-ass entry this is!! Oh, well. It's his fuckin' blog. I guess he can do whatever hell he wants with it, so whatevs. Who the hell am I, right?]

It's all about the Little Things.

I mean, really...if we all attained True Happiness in one fell swoop, whether it be in the form of another person ("wuv....TWUE WUV!!" as the late, great Peter Cook exclaimed in "The Princess Bride") or otherwise, what would be the point of living? What would give us that forward push, that drive to keep moving forward.

It brings up that age-old question of what do you give the person who has everything???

Do I have everything I want? Of course not. And I probably never will. But that's the point of life. It's not about what you don't have. It's about what you have and, for some people, it's about what you can live with. It's is not about the finish line. It's about the fight, the slow, upward climb and having the knowledge that you did everything you could to get to where you wanted to be, needed to be.

Though, there's no harm in hoping and wishing for the best.

Today, I got on the stairmaster at my local Jewish Community Center and I went nearly two minutes without having to hold the sides for support, due to my bad balance. That's two minutes more than what I've been able to do in the past.

That, right there, is a Happy Ending, a little something to cheer about.

And yeah, in this cruel, sometimes unfair world we live in, I'll take it with a smile.

Scene It, Done It

For those parties interested, I have officially completed the first scene of my new script, "Five Years Apart."

Gotta say, I'm a little rusty in terms of remembering all the different formatting hot keys with my good ol' Final Draft screenwriting software, but I'm gettin' there.

I decided to give my old alcoholic screenwriting teacher the finger and forgo the 12-point plot outline. I'm just diving into this fucker and, I've gotta say...it's high time indeed. I know exactly where I'm going on this one.

Sort of like my life, these days.

As the kids, these days, like to say. Team Hal is full of WIN!!!

Shelter From The Storm

No, this blog is not becoming a G-dfest.

But I just want to write that, despite what I wrote about G-d being lame when it comes to the bringing The Funny, I also believe He/She/It is a compassionate G-d, who listens to our prayers with an open heart.

For further proof of this, all you need to do is look at Gustav (lame fucking name for a storm, by the way, if you ask me. Why the hell don't they give these storms a bad ass name, Gordon, Garcia or, oooooh, Guster!!! Forget Hannah, man!! How about--and I'm just throwin' it out there--Hal?). We prayed and he most certainly listened.

This could have been so much worse.

And to whom it may concern, I'm glad everyone is safe and sound.

The Greatest Joke Ever Told

Ya know, way back in the day, when I was a sad little boy trapped inside the walls of a hospital, my dream was to become a world-famous comedian.

Yeah, you heard me.

I would plunge myself into the bajillions of joke books that people would bring me as gifts, apparently trying to cheer me up (it worked, guys! A very belated thanks to all of you's!!!) and laugh myself silly. I would then proceed to annoy my parents and whoever would come and visit me by repeatedly telling the same jokes, over and over and over again.

[BLOGGER'S NOTE: Just to clarify, after a certain point, during my luxurious, 18-week stay at Immanuel Hospital, I began to regain enough mobility in my upper body that I could hold and turn the pages of a book. That, and flop about in my bed to the sounds of Billy Joel on my Walkman. Strangely enough, even with upward- and lower-body mobility, my dancing has not improved. In fact, my dance moves have curiously remained the same as when I was paralyzed. Go figure.]

In other words, I really haven't changed much since age seven, have I? I'm still saying and doing anything I can to get a laugh or a smile out of The Next Guy (or Gal), even going so far as pushing it down their throats and/or humiliating myself in the process. Anyone who has seen me rubbing lotion all over my half-naked body or wearing nothing but cut-off jean shorts in a shower--and for those who have seen it, you know that's not even the half of it!!--in Mr. Erik's now-legendary (infamous?) "Tuesday's Gone" music video needs no further proof of the above.

However, of all the jokes that I've read or told, none of them can hold a candle to the one delivered by one of the characters in Noah Baumbach's splendid-yet-little-seen 1995 film, "Kicking & Screaming." The joke goes as such:

How do you make G-d laugh? Make a plan.

At the risk of getting off the subject for a moment, the film revolves around a group of college graduates who have no clue what to do with their lives, once they finish school. As a result of this sort of paralyzing fear of the unknown (sound familiar?), they stick around campus, providing witty, sarcastic commentary on life as they know it--as that very same life simultaneously passes them by. It's a very funny movie that deals with post-college life and relationships realistically and honestly.

I love it.

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. It's not like I hadn't heard a variation of that joke before. Growing up in my parents' house, I'd always hear my mom say "we make plans and G-d laughs."

It always stuck with me. It's so true.

We always have these grand plans when we're young. We think that as soon as we graduate college (or whatever our idea or point of Look, ma! I'm all growed up is), we're just automatically gonna be spoon-fed our shimmery, shiny, gold-tinged dreams: A job (CHECK!), marriage (CHECK!), children, a house, two cars (CHECK, CHECK, CHECK!!), et cetera, et cetera. Since my own college graduation, I've come to realize that's the biggest joke of all.

And it's almost always on us.

I'm not exactly proud to say this, but I haven't been to shul (synagogue) since May. It has nothing to do with me not believing in G-d. It's not like that at all. I believe in Him/Her/It. I do. I just think G-d's sense of humor is a bit too much for me to take sometimes.

So, yes. I have surpassed the I don't believe in G-d phase of my life and have now reached the What's it all mean, G-d? phase. I guess I'm moving up in the world. I dunno.

Here's the thing: The reason I used to not believe in G-d was because of all the bad shit that happened in the world. Ya know? I use to say things like, "How could G-d let the terrorists do that?" or "If there's a G-d, how could He let The Holocaust happen?"

I would always get the same reply or, at least, a variation of it. It all came down to the fact that G-d gave us free will.

Ah, yes. Free will: The ultimate cop out.

Okay, people. Maybe I'm an idiot (and if you think I am, well, take a number!), but if G-d has a plan and it's all part of G-d's plan, then where the FUCK does the free will part come in? You can't have both an Almighty Plan AND free will?! Wouldn't the two things cancel each other out?!

What the fuck?!

Okay...here's the the deal: I believe that G-d has given us free will. However, I also believe that every once in a while, The Big Guy likes to look into our lives and say to Himself, "This shit is getting booooorrrrrring. Maybe if I just--no, I couldn't! Well, maybe...I could just pull this one...little...string and.......whoopsy daisy! Did I do that?! Oh, well. What's done is done, I guess. Man, oh man, this is gonna be GOOD!! This is gonna be so GREAT!!"

It's like a group of TV writers that trap themselves in a corner (read: "Alias" or "Prison Break"). You know what I mean? It's like the writers have this ongoing, labyrinthine plot and then, when they themselves have no idea what the hell is happening on their own show, they throw in a twist in the season finale that has nothing to do with anything, that changes everything we know about the show, rendering almost all of what's come before as superfluous and, ultimately, pointless. And then a character arches a oh-so menacing eyebrow and proclaims--wait for it!!--"HA! Just as I planned!!"

I've come to the conclusion that G-d likes to put us in sticky situations so he can watch us squirm, wriggle around and, ultimately (but not always, because variety is, after all, the spice of life, right?) claw our way out. Truth be told, G-d would be an amazing TV sitcom producer. In fact, I'm pretty much convinced, at this point, that many of the television producers of the '70s were, indeed, touched by The Hand of G-d.

I can just totally see one of the Deity-inspired pitches:

Hey, fellas! Put down your cigars!! Have I got a pitch for you!! Not sure where it came from, but here goes!! We've got a male swinger livin' with two buxom broads! But wait 'til ya get a load o' dis one!! You ready?! He's gotta pretend to be one o' them homosexuals my daughter keeps tellin' me about!! You know?! To fool their wacky, old-fashioned landlords?! Can you imagine all the hijinks?! Wouldn't that be just a real riot?!?!

Look, I believe in G-d.

I love G-d and I truly, in my heart, believe that G-d, for all of the crap he's thrown my way throughout the year, loves me. There is a Higher Authority out there, people. He's watching us. And, yes, as paranoid as I can be, sometimes--not always, but sometimes--I take great comfort knowing that G-d is watching over me. It is G-d who has helped me get to this point in my life.

And that, most certainly, is not a bad thing at all.

I just think that sometimes, He/She/It has a really shitty sense of humor and really, really bad comedic timing.

No Smoking!!!

It's been two years!! AT LEAST!!

There is no rhyme and there is certainly no reason reason for this, but in the last two days, I have had these major cigarette cravings!!

No, for the record, I have NOT acted on them.

Thank G-D!! But it's getting bad.

I am not stressed. I am not unhappy. In fact, I am happier than I have been in ages, what with my writing finally taking off again and getting my mojo back. Cigarettes should be the last thing on my mind, right now, at this point in my life.

I mean, in the 2+ years since I quit smoking, I've had cravings here and there, but I have not smoked one cigarette. But these cravings--the ones that I've been having for the last few days--have been BRUTAL!!!

Why is this happening?!? Like I need this shit, ya know?

TWO FUCKING YEARS!!!

I will not smoke cigarettes. I won't. I love being able to breathe, exercise without gasping for air (most of the time) and/or coughing. I enjoy being able to taste everything that goes into my mouth (yeah, I know how that sounded. Being serious now, right now, folks).

I hate Bronchitis and Smoker's Cough is awful.

FUCK YOU, PHILIP MORRIS!!!!!!!!!!

You ain't gonna get me, this time!!!