Mr. Cellophane

In a location adjacent to a place in a city of some significance, what comes out of my head is plastered on the walls of this blog.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

I know I said Monday. Give me a freakin' break.

Anyway, here's a rundown of what happened:

Saturday May 30th

4:19am I overhear my folks talking. Time to get up. Luckily, most of my stuff is already packed. I'm still hella nervous.
5:06am My parents take me to the airport. It's nice to know that they care enough about me to support my insane whims.
5:19am I get my tickets. Really good idea ordering from Travelocity. I can't help but explore the airport. The restaurants are serving breakfast sandwiches. I'm in more of a donut mood. A lot of reading material at the shops. Two magazine covers with Megan Fox. Seriously, what the hell? Another cover with Ewan McGregor. In a Cinematical article, when asked about the overrated starlet, he replied, 'Who's Megan Fox?'. Ewan McGregor is now one of my favorite actors.
6:00am They're boarding the first of my three flights. This express plane is...small. Don't think there will be a movie on this flight. Still, I can't fault the legroom.
6:28am We're in the air. It's a good 15 years since I've been on a plane.
6:40am Either we're flying over snowy peaks or stagnant clouds. I can vaguely make out land. Must be the latter.
7:28am Landing at Dulles. I can't help but tour this one, too. They have a Dunkin' Donuts. Breakfast is served.
7:50am Chocolate milk and a donut to match.
8:05am This plane is bigger than the last one, though the legroom isn't as bountiful. A real cutie on my direct left. She's texting someone; most likely a BFF or (dread!) her boyfriend. Not really up to asking. I really hate being single sometimes.
9:38am* The inflight movie is Paul Blart: Mall Cop. I've already seen it. I might as well catch up on the sleep I missed preparing for the trip. No pillows left, though. Damn.
10:47am* The flight's also playing TV shows. I take a chance on "The Big Bang Theory". Pretty funny, though I must say that Sheldon's kind of a douche.
11:11am* "How I Met Your Mother". Having some doubts about the premise stretching over several seasons, but not bad.
12:03pm* Freaking the fuck out. My connecting flight to Burbank leaves in eight minutes and there's a line? Why wouldn't there be a line? The guy who was on my right sets me straight. It's actually...
11:03am Hmmmm. Changing time zones sucks ass.
11:07am ...but not quite as much as delayed flights. I get to waste an extra hour at San Francisco International Airport. The FSM get-together starts at 1pm, so I was already going to be late. However, Lukas Kendall (FSM founder) gave me six words that a) have saved me $200 on this little safari; long story and b) will allow me to make acquaintances without guilt: "Come and go as you please!".
11:38am May as well get some lunch. I settle on Taquitos Dorados from a place called Andale. The meal turns out to be Spanish for 'Heaven on the taste buds, Hell on the intestines'.
12:09pm Catching up on the journal, and enjoying some tunes: Wrong Turn 2 by Bear McCreary.
1:05pm Note to self: when traveling in the future, avoid San Francisco. Talk about unprofessional.
1:16pm Another small plane. Manage to get some shots from the sky...once I figure out how to put in the memory card.
2:28pm Burbank, finally. Just need to pick up my suitcase.
2:59pm My own hotel room. Can't help but wonder if 'hotel room smell' is an actual fragrance.
3:09pm Since the FSM get-together is in Hollywood, I'm forced to take a cab. I see the sights with a genial driver at the wheel.
3:42pm Crossroads of the World. If only it were open. To hell with this. I noticed a music store on the cab ride up. I take a chance.
4:21pm Amoeba Music. By all the names of God, where has this place been my whole life?! For the first time in too long, I'm excited about buying used soundtracks from a music store.
4:38pm The Arclight Theater is next door. I wanted to see The Brothers Bloom. Wait, twelve dollars...for one movie?! Not even if I was made of money.
5:05pm I follow the Hollywood Walk of Fame. So many stars, some of them twice. David Niven and Jack Benny, I know you were great, but share the wealth, huh?
5:24pm I manage to find the latest issue of Creative Screenwriting. Of course, they'd have a bunch of copies out here. Why is it so hard to find at home?
5:34pm Dinner at Molly's. A chili dog, onion rings and root beer.
5:45pm I hail a cab back to the hotel. All I want to do when I get back is veg out.
6:07pm I call home. The time difference necessitated it. I'm disturbingly homesick. I tell you, I could not handle the life of a traveling salesman.
7:50pm Just gonna watch TV until I'm sleepy. "Star Trek" was right: having isn't as great a thing as wanting.

Sunday May 31st

3:06amI can't sleep a blessed wink. I manage to get some shut-eye, but I'm just not comfortable...and given the bed, that's really saying something. I flip through the limited channel selection, settling on a rerun of "Law and Order: SVU", about a family of homeless people. One was played by Mae Whitman and given how much I've heard her voice ("Arrested Development", "Fillmore", "American Dragon Jake Long"), it's depressing that I couldn't recognize her right off.
6:05am Still couldn't sleep. I call home. Mom was right. I should travel in a controlled setting (i.e., not just traipsing across the country on my own). She and Dad enocurage me that this is an experience and that I'll know what to do in the future.
7:08am I give up on any pretense of wanting sleep. I listen to a couple of the CDs I bought. Goldsmith's Medicine Man (which sounds better here than it did years ago on Deconstructing Goldsmith - RIP)...
7:49am ...and Isham's The Black Dahlia. Nice, brassy score. Can't wait for his signature.
8:05am Kung Fu Panda is on HBO. This drags me out of my funk.
8:58am Time for a shower. Soap's smaller than I'm used to, but, hey, it's a hotel.
9:45am Not wanting the ludicrous room service prices added to an already pricey bill, I head down for breakfast. Eggs, hash browns, sausage and toast. Tasty, once I get hold of a salt shaker.
10:17am They have internet access! Been missing it, let me tell you. Of course, you have to pay for it.
10:45am While I wait for the shuttle driver to return, I take some pics of the hotel.
11:22am Pretty early for the signing. I saw a comic book shop on the way. Might be worth checking out.
11:36am Emerald Knights Comics. Some nice old issues of "She-Hulk".
11:50am Pick up batteries for my camera. Damn, does that thing eat them up.
12:55pm Dark Delicacies. Like Mecca for horror buffs. I pick up some CDs: Rubinstein's Whose Life is it Anyway? and Young's Species and The Grudge 2. I look around, not even disguising how out of place I feel. I really need to work on that.
1:11pm I get a number - 28 - that is to be called so I can meet the composers. I also win a prize: a Drag Me to Hell hat. It's like the 2 Fast 2 Furious hat I have at home; on the one hand, it's a bit of memorabilia from a movie I have no interest in seeing. On the other, hey, free hat.
1:32pm They start to arrive: Bear McCreary talks with who I believe were soundtrack producers. I step aside so Ken Thorne can hobble past. I get a snap of Stu Phillips (old "Galactica") and McCreary (new "Galactica") chatting. I bump into Mark Isham. I have a quick exchange with Harry Manfredini. The urge to pinch myself is overwhelming.
2:15pm The fans, all clutching various CDs, liner notes and DVD/video jackets, wait outside, myself included. The sun beats down on us. Several conversations about movies, filmmusic, what have you. A little old woman (one of the store's owners? I didn't think to ask.) calls numbers 1-10. The lucky sumguns go in. It gets hotter. My backpack starts to hurt from all the crap stuffed in it, much like high school. Numbers 11-20. I take a seat on the pavement and sort through my many liner notes, organizing them by the seating chart. Numbers 21-26. By now, am severely tempted to pull a Beetlejuice.
2:58pm Numbers 27, 28, 29 and 30. Hot damn! I figure there's a line, but I can just go up to the composers I want to see.
- Bear McCreary: I tell him I love his Wrong Turn 2 score, using the word, 'eclectic'. It's one of his favorites, he tells me. I ask him to personalize the signature 'To Tor'. He's taken aback by the name, a recurring motif of the event. Lisa Coleman (of Wendy and Lisa, "Heroes"), overhearing, sounds surprised.
- Arthur B. Rubinstein: I gush over WarGames, though it's half-heard over the crowd. I tell him my name. He tells me that it's another word for the top of a mountain, a fact that, until this moment, I'm wholly unaware of. He probably thinks I'm a jackass.
- Michael Giacchino: With his son, it looked like. I tell him how I loved his thematic interpolations in Star Trek and especially Speed Racer. The messages he signs reflect the respective projects.
- Mark Isham: He signs Racing Stripes and The Black Dahlia for me. I like the scores, but am at a loss as to what to say.
- Richard Band: "You don't know how many of your CDs I've bought in the last couple of years. Your music's incredible." He signs Re-Animator (the fourth release of this score, if you can believe it).
- Christopher Young: He's sure we've met before. I don't know. Maybe in a past life. He has the most CDs (3) of any composer whose work I've added to my collection this weekend.
3:29pm I call the hotel for a shuttle ride back, but not before I return to Emerald Knights for a much-needed beverage.
4:02pm Back at the hotel. I pack a final time (didn't need my raincoat) and flip around the TV. Antz is on Cartoon Network.
4:26pm I ride the shuttle back to Bob Hope Airport, saying farewell to the driver. Very nice guy.
5:02pm I call home. I tell my parents of the upward turn the vacation has taken.
5:27pm The flight's a good while away. Sunset Boulevard by Franz Waxman. I may not have gone to the get-together (that was held on Sunset) like I wanted, but this music was getting played, damnit.
6:35pm ...and onto Rubinstein's WarGames.
8:22pm The flight finally arrives. I grumble as I board the flight. Hopefully, things will get better.
10:07pm Things do not get better. My connecting flight is set to leave in a matter of minutes. I'm nowhere near the airport. It's debatable if I'm even near land. I see some water below. I seriously mull pulling the emergency exit and making a jump for it.
10:16pm The flight attendant comes by. I ask when the flight will land. She says something about having to take off again. I can hardly hear her over my ensuing breakdown. Cody Jarrett's in seat 9A and he just found out his mother died.
10:20pm I call home (in spite of the time difference). Mom picks up. I explain the situation to her. The call cuts off. I'm thinking, 'She thinks something's happened to me'. I get madder than ever. I try again a little later, convinced I'm going to be stranded in San Francisco. She placates me by saying that I'll just have to catch a later flight.
10:29pm Just as I call for the head of the pilot (mainly so I can shit down his neck), the plane lands. I rush like a madman through the terminal. My connecting flight now leaves at 11:50. I still want that deuce/neckhole interaction.
11:17pm I waste time at a pay-internet terminal. Hey, it relaxes me.
11:38pm I'm in a group to be seated last and am, thus, forced to wait. Ugh.
11:55pm The flight takes off. The in-flight movie is Bride Wars. The sleep that eluded me the night before comes much easier now...just as it would've had I seen the film in theaters. (Ba-zing!)

Monday June 1st

8:10am The flight lands at Washington-Dulles without a hitch...as it should.
8:35am The final take-off.
8:56am At long last, I get some in-flight snack food: a trail mix of pretzels, cheese crackers and almonds. I wolf down the whole bag and save another for later. I lament not taking a few more bags.
9:48am I'm back in Buffalo and back on the ground. I had seen a smoothie place - one I'd frequented in college - before I left Saturday morning and I swore I'd get one upon my return. Orange Sunrise. How I've missed it.
10:07am I wait on the upper level for my mom to pick me up.
10:21am She comes for me. Apparently, the upper level is for departures and the lower level is for arrivals. We hurry downstairs before her car gets ticketed.

And so, that's the story. What did I learn? I would say keep your head on straight, but that's not taking into account the occasional incompetence of the airlines. Having a good time is key, as is knowing how to insert a good memory card.

By the way, the times are, for the most part, approximate, especially those marked with '*'.

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