» On 7/01/2020 01:00:00 AM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
Please forgive me, Margaret Atwood. 

Margaret Atwood (The Handmaid's Tale) once wrote: "Sex may go nicely with many things, but vomit isn't one of them."

Unfortunately, I took this as a personal challenge.

The quote became my writing prompt one morning, and when the day was done, the Tangier ferry scene in Côte d'Azur was purged from my system.

Labels: CdA, cotedaz

 
» On 6/01/2020 02:30:00 AM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
Screenwriters Network Competition. 

My Côte d'Azur feature-length screenplay was recently announced as an official selection in this trimonthly contest...

LATER: CdA is now one of 28 semi-finalists!

Labels: CdA, cotedaz

 
» On 3/19/2020 05:00:00 AM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
CdA pitch. 

During my 20s, I spent a year selling t-shirts in southern France with a Danish business partner. The venture wasn't successful at all, and we still laughingly refer to that period as "The Year Of Failing Miserably." But it was a lot of fun, and it convinced us that we could accomplish great things in life. Well, medium-great, anyway. I filled several notebooks with our daily adventures, and later threatened for decades to dramatize our year abroad. After a few of my other screenplays placed well in international competitions (quarters, semis and finals), I figured it was time to dig out the notebooks.

So I fictionalized our experiences in Côte d'Azur, then converted the screenplay into an eBook. That proof-of-concept adaptation has appeared on Amazon's Performing Arts Best Sellers list since it was first published, in July 2019, with reviews averaging 5 out of 5 stars.

Labels: CdA, cotedaz

 
» On 12/16/2019 09:00:00 AM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
26 mi, 385 yd = 42.195 km. 

During 1976-1977, I was working as a bartender at Boston's Faneuil Hall and living in a crappy one-room cellar apartment on the unfashionable backside of Beacon Hill. The room came equipped with hot-and-cold running cockroaches and no windows, but it was all I could afford, back in those days. Plus, I was saving money to open a teeshirt business on the Côte d'Azur. But that's another story.

In the fall, I prepared for the 1976 NYC Marathon by working out at the Charles River Esplanade. It was a lovely run through the grassy park, looking across the river at Harvard, MIT and Cambridge, while watching the sailboats and rowing shells. After a reasonably-decent finish in October's New York race (761st/2090 starters in 3:28:01 for my first marathon, click images to enlarge), I continued working out, to prepare for the Boston Marathon in April.

When the snow arrived, it became harder to run on the paths of the Esplanade, so after the Charles froze over, I continued training on the ice of the river. It was also a special experience, in its own way, but the flat course couldn't really prepare me for what was to come.

Boston Marathon, 18 April 1977: My quadriceps still remember Heartbreak Hill, 42 years later. The five miles of the Newton Hills came at the 16-mile mark, just as I was hitting the wall. The results were not pretty. I finished, but just barely (4:XX:XX).

Two years after I ran Boston, I watched my cousin Dave run it. He posted a much better time, but we had one experience in common. On the day following the race, I noticed that he paused at the top of a three-step stairway. Heartbreak Hill had done a tune on his quads too, so he slowly turned around, and walked BACKWARDS down the three steps.

I laughed like a hyena, and he nearly punched me. 😉

Back to the NYC Marathon, 24 October 1976: (Poster Boy - "Over 2,000 Runners Crossing The Verrazano-Narrows Bridge") The first New York City Marathon, in 1970, had 55 finishers who completed several loops inside Central Park.

In 1976, to celebrate the U.S. bicentennial, the marathon moved outside the park for the first time, to run through the city's five boroughs: Staten Island, Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and Manhattan.

2090 of us started on the upper deck at the Staten Island end of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. It was the world's longest suspension bridge span at that time, measuring 4,260 feet.

News choppers were hovering everywhere. A few of them took some interesting photos, like this one. If you click the poster to see a larger version, you'll notice another helicopter in the upper right corner. It's hard to imagine just how steep that hill into Brooklyn really is, until you run those 4,260 feet (1.3 km, 0.8 mi) on the roadway itself.

It was my first marathon, so I kept to the left edge of the pack, about halfway back from the leaders. I was wearing a yellowish teeshirt and maroon shorts, and there's only one guy with that color combo on the railing in that poster. So I stuck a red arrow on the glass, as a reminder.

So sue me.

Bill Rogers won in 2:10:10. I finished about 80 minutes later.

Below, left: me in Brooklyn, 1976, just before I lost the will to live.
Below right: me & Jørgen Stærmose at the WTC, 1980. See "The Day The Planes Stopped Flying."


NYC Postscript, 28 October 1978: I was living at the West Side YMCA in New York City when the 1978 marathon rolled around. It was just after my year of failing miserably at a teeshirts-to-the-tourists venture in southern France, and just before my six months of failing miserably at driving a taxicab on the mean streets of Manhattan. I wanted to get a different perspective on the dramatic marathon start at the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, so I hopped a bus for Staten Island on the morning of the race. The bus got nearly halfway across the bridge on the lower deck before the inevitable traffic jam, but I somehow talked the driver into letting me out onto the roadway. I still can't believe he agreed to do it. Do you remember that heart-stopping scene in Saturday Night Fever, when John Travolta and his friends climbed into the superstructure of the bridge? That was my route to the top deck. When I finally vaulted over the guardrail onto the roadway, both sides were clear... so I jogged up to the top of the hill at the middle of the bridge and looked down at the runners, waiting for the starting gun. They would be running on the south roadway, so as long as I stayed on the north side, I wouldn't be in anyone's way. Motorcycle cops were driving back and forth on the racer's side, and I assumed they would soon kick me off the bridge, but apparently their orders were only to keep the south side clear. The sun was shining brightly, the view was amazing, and the sea breeze coming in off the ocean made my heart soar. When the elite runners came charging up the hill, I ran with them for a short distance, on the other side of the double guardrail. They were fast. Way too fast for me. But the jog downhill into Brooklyn was a blast, and I still have these incredible memories, more than four decades later.

Labels: 26, cotedaz, humblebrag

 
» On 8/11/2019 02:30:00 PM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
I'm A F*cking Genius. 

When I named my screenplay's Facebook page Côte d'Azur, I never dreamed that French travel agencies would inadvertently insert the title into their Facebook postings, and not check to see where the link ended up.

Free advertising. Not targeted very well, but still, it's eyeballs... ;-)

Labels: CdA, cotedaz

 
» On 8/01/2019 12:05:00 AM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
Août To Lunch. 

[Follow-up to Glass Half Full.]

After I pitched Côte d'Azur to some British agents, one of them replied:

"Unfortunately, we're not able to do much with your screenplay, simply because the majority of the British Film & TV media are looking to set stories here in the UK, unless you're a film-maker with the clout of Ridley Scott or Danny Boyle who can influence that choice."

So I figured that maybe I should approach some French agents. When I was living in Nice during 1977-8, I noticed that almost everybody in France took a one-month vacation in August (Août). Of course, I assumed they outgrew that - after all, you can't shut down the WHOLE COUNTRY for an ENTIRE MONTH. It's 2019, fergawdsake. But then I received my first response (an auto-reply) from a Paris agent:

"L'agence est fermée pour la trêve estivale du 26 juillet au 31 août."

Which means: "The agency is closed for the summer break from July 26th to August 31st."

Labels: CdA, cotedaz

 
» On 7/25/2019 07:00:00 AM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
Lemons = Lemonade. 

My old workplace - a newsroom - offered 10 vacation days per year, but allowed me to schedule only 6 at a time. So in February 2019, my wife and I designed our 6-day May holiday. We paid for the flight, the rental car, and the cottage in the English countryside.

Then, in April, I was fired. After nearly 10 years on the job. No explanation. I was 68 years old. So we said whatthehell, and tacked several days in Wales and London onto the end of our vacation. It was the nicest holiday we've had, in more than 10 years.

When we returned, I got sick and nearly died. I still jokingly tell people that I was probably Patient Zero for the COVID-19 virus. So I cranked out a spec screenplay about my wasted youth, thinking it might be the last thing I ever wrote. The idea had been fermenting in my brain for more than four decades, and I kept putting it off. But it turns out that a brush with death focuses the mind with laser-like clarity and "imminent demise" is a powerful motivation. After the script was converted into a proof-of-concept eBook, it appeared almost immediately on Amazon's Performing Arts Best Sellers list.

So I'm really glad I got fired and nearly died. And I'm especially grateful for that misspent youth. [AIM]

Labels: CdA, cotedaz, nfh

 
» On 7/24/2019 08:25:00 AM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
Côte d'Azur eBook. 

My latest free eBook:
http://9TimeZones.com/cote.htm

is online:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/950345

, in 8 different formats: .mobi (Kindle), .epub (iPad, Nook, Android, etc.), .html (browser), .pdb (Palm), .lrf (Sony), .pdf, .doc, .txt

It's also at Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07VKQR7YY

, but they arbitrarily set a minimum of $0.99, and I'm trying to get them to match Smashwords' $0.00 price.

LATER: Amazon was very high-handed when they rejected my price-match request ("We retain discretion over our retail prices") that included link #1, so they received links #2 through 6 in reply:

1 http://smashwords.com/books/view/950345
2 http://barnesandnoble.com/w/c-te/1132648259
3 http://books.apple.com/us/book/c/id1474051092
4 http://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=bSulDwAAQBAJ
5 http://kobo.com/us/en/ebook/cote-d-azur-15
6 http://scribd.com/book/419588631

They finally caved. ;-)

STILL LATER (11/12): The CdA eBook is currently #1 on Amazon's Performing Arts Best Sellers list!

Labels: CdA, cotedaz

 
» On 7/22/2019 10:20:00 AM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
Glass Half Full. 

I'm used to querying American screenplay agents, who very rarely acknowledge that I've contacted them, even after several weeks have passed. So with my new script, I decided to approach British agents as well, and after just THREE DAYS, I've received FOUR lovely rejections, including this one:

"Thank you for submitting Côte d'Azur to us for consideration. Jonathan and his team enjoyed your work, but I’m afraid in the end it fell a bit outside of what he is looking to take on at the moment, and he doesn’t feel best-placed to sell your work in the way it deserves. So he’s going to step aside, and wants to leave the field clear for you to find the right person to represent your screenplay."

Labels: CdA, cotedaz

 
» On 7/12/2019 09:00:00 PM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
Côte d'Azur screenplay. 

I just finished my latest screenplay, Côte d'Azur!

Log line:
"There's nothing quite so romantic as spending one's youth in a foreign land."

You can view the 71pp screenplay PDF here. Yes, it's short. I hate wasting words.

*** NOTE: seeking investors or producing partners. Option or sale offers also welcome. ***

eMail: HotTip [at] Gmail.com (replace [at] with @)

Facebook fan page.

Free CdA eBook drops soon!

Synopsis:
Eric is a 20-something American guy who's having the time of his life on the French Riviera. Or maybe Eric is the 60-something who's looking back on his earlier years with nostalgia and trying to alter the course of his life. This screenplay was inspired by Lawrence Durrell, and his experiments with metafictional techniques in The Avignon Quintet and The Alexandria Quartet.

Labels: CdA, cotedaz

 
» On 7/01/2019 12:30:00 AM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
Blimey. 

So, we fly to London on Thursday, May 16. We settle into our digs, a beautiful cottage near a charming English hamlet, and spend a few days just drinking in the atmosphere and recovering from the jet lag. I might have drunk in a bit too much of the atmosphere, because I started having trouble with the stairs. My knees felt like they had knives stuck inside. Finger joints, too. By the time we began our daily outings into the surrounding countryside, on Monday, May 20, the pain was so bad, I could barely get out of the car. Not fun, but I gamely soldiered on, with just a few breaks for bitching and whining. OK, maybe more than a few.

When we broke camp and headed for Wales, on Saturday, May 25, I was starting to get used to the pain, mild fever, slight cough, headache, f*cked taste buds. I figured this was my introduction to the infirmities of old age, that this was the way it was going to be from now on, and I had better "man up" and stop whining so much. Getting out of the car was still like having nails hammered into my knees, but I learned to cover my reaction to the pain with twenty or thirty short gasping breaths, followed by a quiet whimper.

London on the 28th was a challenge. Most of the stuff we wanted to see was within walking distance, but for me, the 30-minute walk to the British Museum was comparable to the Bataan Death March. So we tried applying liberal quantities of Guinness. It helped. Guinness always helps. But our day trip down to the White Cliffs of Dover, which featured a view of the British end of the Chunnel, was still tinged with a purple haze of pain.

It was a fascinating vacation, but I can't tell you how happy I was, when we climbed onto the plane to return home on Saturday, June 1. During the flight, my left nostril started spewing copious quantities of a clear liquid, and my left ear nearly exploded during landing. There were no improvements by Thursday, June 6, so I figured I was f*cked enough to consult a doctor. She prescribed a Z-Pak (Azithromycin), which I now know triggers a severe allergy (hives), so I ended up being double-f*cked. She said the only thing I could do was pray for death. No, wait, that was me - she said I should treat the respiratory infection as an extreme case of the flu (bed rest, liquids, cough drops) and hope that death came quickly. No, that was me again.

There were many days that I didn't really want to live, because it seemed like nothing was improving. But I have a good wife, who slaps me around (figuratively) when I whine, and she got me past the praying-for-death stage. It's now July 1, and I ain't healthy, by a long shot (the skin on my hands is currently peeling off, like a molting snake), but I'm headed in that direction. Yup, I can finally see the light at the end of the Chunnel. Thanks again for all your good wishes.

Labels: cotedaz

 
» On 6/10/2019 02:30:00 PM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
First do no harm. 

So I hobble into the doc's office with painful joints, coughing and lotsa phlegm. I now know that she had a choice between treating it as viral (drink fluids, take cough drops, bed rest for at least a week or two) and diagnosing it as bacterial (Z-Pak! 5 days and done!!). She could see my eyes light up, when she mentioned that she had a 5-buck Z-Pak coupon from WalMart, and when she asked if I had any allergies, I replied, "None that I know of."

Fateful last words. Turns out my body was allergic to the Z-Pak (Azithromycin) poison, and it left me with an excruciatingly painful case of hives. The last time I developed hives, over a 22-month span in 2006, 2007 and 2008, it took one regular doctor, one osteopath, two emergency room docs, three allergists, three acupuncturists, two homeopaths, and a hypnotherapist to bring me back to normal.

I hope this case won't last 22-months, but I still can't help hearing these words, running through my mind, over and over, "First do no harm."

Labels: cotedaz

 
» On 12/28/2013 07:00:00 AM Mountain Standard Time, Alan wrote:
French Equivalence. 

Here's what you need to fly in France (below, left). During my Year Of Failing Miserably at running a rag-tag teeshirts-to-the-tourists enterprise on the Côte d'Azur with a crazy Danish business partner, I thought it might be fun to do some flying in Fayence, one of the famous hotbeds for soaring (glider) world records. I had no car and very little money, but I just wanted to be able to say I had flown there once and had taken the controls for a few minutes. So I hitchhiked the 41 miles from Nice to Fayence. They told me I had to (1) get a French license equivalence, because my American pilot license wasn't worth sh*t, and (2) learn the specialized vocabulary, by reading a soaring book written in French. So I hitchhiked the 24 miles from Fayence to the Cannes Aerodrome and wangled the validation certificate shown here. Then I hitchhiked the 21 miles from Cannes back to Nice and searched all over town, looking for aviation books. Not easy. Then I read "le vol à voile," cover to cover. Even less easy, for someone who had not progressed very far beyond his introductory français-pour-étrangers courses at the Université de Nice.

Then I again hitchhiked the 41 miles from Nice back up to Fayence. Even though I proudly presented my shiny new validation certificate and demonstrated my freshly-acquired vocab, they changed their minds and said I would have to start my ever-lengthening path to the cockpit with an absurdly-expensive class on the ground. F*ckers. I could barely scrape together enough cash for one flight, so raising the money for weeks of ground instruction was out of the question. But I now have a nice souvenir certificate to bring back these misty water-colored memories of the frustrating runaround those jerks put me through...

PS: The crazy Dane and I later used the money I saved to buy a dirt-cheap Citroën nicknamed "Blueballs." But that's another story.



PPS: The Last Lesson - a story about my first flight instructor, my father.

Labels: cotedaz