dad’s passport

My dad had an amazing passport. I’d marvel at his visas when I was a kid. He’d been all over the world, plundering yes, oil and gas, as a geologist for Phillips Petroleum when that was a thing. He took Kodachrome slides of all his travels and we’d look at them weeks later after his return. My dad was kind of a terrible photographer. Well maybe a good photographer if you’re a rock. But you know, he’d have these pictures of rocks with a blurry Taj Mahal in the background. He was a scientist, not an artist and while he wasn’t at the “drinking at work” phase just yet, the photos lacked…composition.

Anyhoo, exotic passport visa on its way for yours truly assuming all goes well. The Shanghai teaching gig has become official. So next month I’ll be in China for about 10 days. Or forever if my big mouth gets me thrown in a gulag. My department head has given me some good advice. She says preface everything with, “In Hollywood, where I work, we do xyz.” The reason being, I can’t tell the Chinese filmmakers how to write good scripts. I mean, they don’t have like, actual, freedom of speech, you know? Without that the works always going to be a little funky. I watched “The Wandering Earth” on Netflix and it’s okay. The effects are weird but the story, the emotional story, is very strange. Flashbacks and big monologues happen at the oddest times — like they’re explaining stuff that wasn’t set up earlier. I always felt like I was catching up to the movie rather than watching it unfold. I did like all the Socialist propaganda, though. Like the collective effort it takes to save the Earth, the sacrifice of the individual for the greater good. It made me sad that the Americans were not a part of saving the earth — but we kind of had that coming. Still though, the main character’s got this Russian pal. I wouldn’t trust a Russian on a bet! There’s this East German movie from the 60’s called “First Spaceship on Venus” that is ridiculous, but has a similar International flavor that’s kind of great. I’m sort of a fan of Communist filmmaking — it’s SO bonkers!

Work is really crazy right now but in a good way. It’s the end of the term so I’m up to my eyes in reading. However, one of my students just got hired to write on a new Netflix show. He hasn’t even graduated yet! It’s so great to see them getting snatched up right out of school. I didn’t see the writing sample he sent with his application — but it must have impressed them. They bypassed the normal step of hiring him as a writer’s assistant and went straight to staff writer. Kicking ass in the screenwriting department. We’ve had a handful of students sell stuff or get hired shortly after graduation but not usually before. For most of them it takes 6 months to a year for them to land their first writing job.

Dean’s in Massachusetts helping his parents move into an over 50 community. The place looks nice. He is not the least bit nostalgic about them moving out of the house he’s known all his life. I wonder what that’s all about. He’s usually really sentimental. I’m going out there next week to meet him and we’re finally going to Provincetown for the first time in my life. I’ve not been big on gay destination travel but it was starting to get ridiculous that I’d never been to PTown despite a MILLION visits to Boston. Dean went there once in the 90’s therefore no need to ever return. Same goes for Montreal. I’m like, uh, can we see something other than the Whole Foods in Sudbury? When he goes home he likes to lay on the couch and stare at the ceiling while the golf channel blasts at ear splitting volumes. Girl, I didn’t pay $500 to fly across the country for this. Show me some pilgrim shit or something. When I take him to Florida (a place ten times worse than Hitler’s taint) I find ways to keep him entertained. Wanna go see some alligator wrestling? How about a swamp boat tour? Check it out: Pregnant woman smoking in a gas station parking lot! Plenty of sights to see, in Florida — each one trashier than the next. So he finally broke down and agreed I could go see what all the fuss is about.

Bleep, bloop, blorp. Snarkbot powering down.