Taco Tuesday...

Taco's give a temporary reprieve from any misgiving:

"Here you go Irma," standing at her door with a Styrofoam container, "I got you the shredded beef again."

There's a worried look on her face:

"What's wrong sweetheart?"

"Kendra caught me in a fib & now she's upset about it."

"What did you do now?"

"I drove to Adobe & got on the treadmill for four miles. Jesus, it's just up the street. I can drive there with my eyes closed."

It's not my place to comment on the matter.

"Forget about things for a few minutes & enjoy your taco's. The problem will wait for you to finish. Besides, it's Taco Tuesday."

The comment brings a smile to her face.

"I'm paying for yours today," as she hands me an additional five dollars, "You're right about taco's. They sure make people happy."

"Tell Kendra I said hello & to relax. It's all good."

The other day I was lounging at the pool discussing real estate with Lilly:

"These places are going up like crazy," referring to the current value of condos at LaSolana.

"Everything is going up," is her immediate reply.

"The one next to me sold in a day...straight cash!"

"Did you check out the open house?"

"I sure did Lilly; the place is immaculate."

"What price did they get?"

"One sixty nine. It's the same model as mine."

"That's a nice price," is her impressive reply, "I have the next model up & it would sell for one eighty five to one ninety," adding with a shrug, "Hopefully the bubble doesn't pop before I go to sell."

The housing market experienced an evisceration eleven short years ago. If the crash is anything like that...whew, watch out!

"You want to hear a sad but true story Lilly?"

"Let's hear it Rob."

"The place sold was owned by a ninety four year old man. He'd use his walker to get everywhere. I'd gotten to know him a little. Well, a few weeks go by & I don't see him anymore. Obviously, he passed away. What I''m trying to say is the guy died in the middle of the night & I'm his fucking neighbor & didn't have a clue until I saw his place for sale three weeks later."

"Don't let it freak you out. That kind of thing happens a lot around here. My neighbor makes the same comment every time he sees an ambulance at Lasolana, 'There goes another condo on the market."

less than stellar feedback...Part 4

I've been floating the idea of a situation comedy based on the comings & goings of the pool crowd at LaSolana. The feedback thus far has been less than stellar:

"Do you want to know the difference between your idea & steaming pile of shit at the dog park?"

"Sure Rocky," anticipating an insult, "What's the difference?"

"Somebody will pick up the steaming pile of dog shit."

"That's a good one Rocky. Did you make that up?"

"Yep," replying smugly, "It's ridiculous thinking people will find you and other old, fat, decrepit fuckers floating around in a pool entertaining; much less humorous," shaking his head in disgust, "Okay, Mr. Wannabe. Let's pretend I'm a show runner & you're trying to pitch me the idea. I will give you thirty seven seconds...Go!"

Rocky is the farthest thing in the world from a show runner; I need the practice:

"Thank you for this opportunity Mr. Showrunner," adding, "First of all look at the demographics of Sun City. They're old! When I say old? I'm saying seventy is a pup. The hook will be old! The characters will be old. The older the better!"

"Twenty seven seconds," adding in a belligerent tone, "Twenty six, twenty five..."

"Mr Showrunner, there's never been a better time for this. The Covid 19 hangover is fading & people are ready for something fresh; something creative; something to talk about. The concept has it all. It's going to keep people begging for more."

"Ten seconds," more belligerent than before, "Nine seconds, eight seconds..."

"In conclusion, Mr. Showrunner, the story line revolves around me & a number of other residents at LaSolana floating in a pool; or relaxing in a hot tub...all while we critique fast food & comment about women I want to sleep with. Other story lines will be sprinkled in as well. It's a winning formula!"

"You're the only guy who thinks that; not interested," as he imitates a person slamming a phone down, "That's what a show runner is going to tell you."

"Good thing you're not a real show runner Rocky. I would be screwed."

"You are screwed on the concept no matter what," adding in a sarcastic tone, "Good Luck!"

I despise when people wish me good luck & don't mean it.

 

"

less than stellar feedback...Part 3

It's been a while since I apologized to anyone; so here it goes: I'm sorry for being an asshole at the pool today to a certain person. They directed an unflattering remark towards me & I responded in kind. Thinking back I should have kept my mouth shut. Any way, I feel better now that I've apologized:

I encounter Mooch relaxing in the hot tub.

"Heah Mooch, you're just the guy I'm looking for. Have you had a chance to look over the writing?"

"Not yet Mr. Tarantino. I'm planning on doing it next week."

Mooch is a retired actor/producer/writer who calls the friendly confines of LaSolana home. He's the guy everyone is telling me to talk to. 

"That's good to hear buddy," as I ease into the hot tub, "Let me tell you the best way to think about the concept."

"How should I think of it Mr. Scorsese?"

"Don't overthink the concept; keep it simple. The setting is a pool or hot tub. The hook is old people; the older the better. Dialog will be concise. We'll have an earbud on everyone if necessary to make sure of it. What I'm basically saying Mooch, 'Do not over complicate the process. There is no Oscar projections in this venture. The end goal is to walk away with twenty three minutes of quality humor for a pilot. The camera crew will shoot one day; eight to ten hours."

"Keep it simple. Is that what you're telling me Mr. Howard?"

"That's what I'm telling you Mooch. Keep it simple!"

He inquires about a character from the blog:

"Did your friend finally get his divorce over from his wife?"

"He did. It wasn't pretty & it cost him a lot more money than anticipated; but it's over now."

"How many wive's has this guy had?"

"That was Roy's third."

"Sounds like the guy needs to give marriage a rest."

"I couldn't agree with you more Mooch."

We chat about the weather for a few minutes before he leaves:

"Mooch, remember for me please. When you finally give me your professional critique of the concept; keep it simple."

"I understand Mr. Spielberg. I'll keep it simple," is his parting words.

less than stellar feedback...Part 2

I've been floating an idea about a situation comedy premised on the patrons of the pool at LaSolana. Today I received additional feedback from Big C about the concept:

"There's no hook to it. That's another problem you're having."

"The hook is old people; the older the better Big C."

"That is a terrible hook. It will never work," is his same reply from last time.

"Why do you say that? What else would be the hook? Come on man! We live in a retirement community; all the scenarios revolve around old fuckers. I'd say the hook is clear."

"Let's make sure I got this straight," adding with smug look on his face, "Your plan is to incorporate old people at LaSolana into a reality show/sitcom with a story line that revolves around critiquing fast food & listening to you chat about all the women you wish you could sleep with?"

"Yeah, you've pretty much got it summed up buddy," adding, "Don't forget all of the conversation happens while floating around the pool."

"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard," is his belligerent response.

"Why do you say that?"

"First of all you don't have anyone to play the parts."

I've answered this objection before. I do it again:

"If people at LaSolana are willing to get involved than I would welcome it. If not, I will turn to actors to fill the roles."

"No chance amigo," with more belligerence than before, "There's a better chance of me bedding a Playboy bunny than you'll ever have of bringing this idea to fruition."

"You need some work on proper euphemisms Big C."

"What do you mean?"

"First of all, you have an infinite zero chance of ever bedding a Playboy bunny. My idea at least has a flicker of hope. Why don't you say it this way instead, 'I have a better chance of winning the lottery than you do of making this concept work.' See, you actually have a chance to win the lottery. However slim it may be. You have absolutely no chance of ever sleeping with a Playboy bunny. I'm going to buy you a book describing the proper use of euphemisms."

We chat about the logistics & cost of such a venture:

"For what you're talking about doing you'll have to raise some serious money. It's going to cost you a couple hundred thousand to do anything worthwhile. That's just the beginning."

'It will cost a fraction of what you are saying," is my answer to his claim, "Where your statement makes sense is if the pilot catches on & someone with wherewithal wants additional episodes; than things get more serious. That's where money comes into play. The concept is a long ways from that point."

"Additional episodes," adding in a pugnacious tone, "Now I've heard it all. You can't even get a decent script together for the pilot & all of a sudden you're talking additional episodes. Jesus man, get a fucking grip. I've got a better chance of doing a standing back flip than you do of ever making a go of this concept."

There he goes again with another poor example of how to incorporate a proper euphemism into a conversation. He has an infinite zero chance of ever performing a standing back flip. My idea has a flicker of hope.

less than stellar feedback...

I've been chatting up the idea of a situation comedy based on the comings & goings of a bunch of old fuckers at LaSolana. The feedback received so far is less than stellar:

"I would give you a .0001 chance of success. Dude, I hate to be the guy to break it to you. Your material needs a serious overhaul."

"What do you mean Big C?"

"Look, the reason people around here read your blog & find it entertaining is because they know you & relate to it first hand. That's the only reason," adding in a bewildered tone, "Who the hell, outside of LaSolana, is going to pay attention to a reality show where all you talk about is fast food & women you want to sleep with...all while you're floating around in a pool?"

Before I can answer; he answers for me:

"Zippo buddy! Not a goddamn one. Do you really think people will be interested in hearing a guy critique a Wendy's double bacon cheeseburger with a couple of other fat fuckers while they're floating in a pool? Jesus man, the concept doesn't have a chance."

Any feedback on the blog is welcome; his rant continues:

"Look dude, I've been telling you to write a script for the longest time & you keep telling me the blog is the script," adding in a belligerent tone, "The dialog; arc; story line; character development & every fucking thing else in your blog for such a venture is missing; or grossly inadequate."

"It sounds like you're telling me I don't have the writing chops for it. Is that what you are trying to tell me?"

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you dude," adding with more belligerence, "I have a better chance of squatting five hundred pounds than you do of seeing this idea come to fruition."

"I doubt that very seriously Big C. I have seen you in the gym."

"You catch my drift smart ass," is his snarky reply.

"Yeah, I catch your drift Big C. The thing is you have an infinite zero chance of ever squatting five hundred pounds. My idea at least has a glimmer of hope. Find a better euphemism."

Big C leaves the pool & Lilly enters. The feedback continues:

"I'm with Big C," are her words after sharing his critique, "There is one thing I disagree with him on?"

"What's that Lilly?"

"He said you have a .0001 chance of success."

"Yep," in a somber tone.

"In my opinion he is being optimistic about things. I'd add a couple of more zeroes to it."

"Geez, thanks for the boost of confidence Lilly."

"Just trying to be honest about things. Do you want to know what I think a big problem of yours is with the blog?"

"What's that Lilly?"

"You are failing to make the material click."

"I need better material is that..."

"Not just better material," interrupting before I can finish my sentence, "Your material needs to make a quantum leap & you need to produce a considerable amount more of it. Right now, I don't see anything coming out of your writing except a few laughs from the old ladies at the pool."

Rocky enters the pool area a half hour after Lilly leaves. I share the previous feedback with him:

"I agree with both of them wholeheartedly," adding, "The thing is if we could get someone in here who can really write. A professional who knows what they're doing. Yeah, I can see something coming out of what you are saying. They're plenty of funny characters with all these old motherfuckers running around."

"I agree with your assessment Rocky. That's why I'm proposing the idea."

"It's too bad you are not more talented & resourceful. At least than you might have a chance. The way things stand right now I don't see your idea happening in a million years. It would be a waste of time & money in my opinion."

Sounds like I'm going to have to step up my game if there is any chance of success. That's life in general though.

Culver's for lunch...

My best friend Lenny packed up the family & headed home for the summer. Luckily, at the pool today, I find someone new to discuss my fast food addiction with:

"Do you like Culver's?"

We met briefly at the pool yesterday.

"I sure do," is her glowing answer.

"What's your favorite thing there?"

"That's a tough one," while scratching her chin, "I would probably have to say the double butterburger with cheese. I'll have it with a bag of large cheese curds & a Reese's cement mixer."

"I'm in love again," is my immediate thought.

"Do you want to know what my favorite thing there is?"

"Sure," is her welcoming reply.

"I will have a cod sandwich with cheese & a bag of large cheese curds. I'll get a large Pepsi to wash it all down as well. Oh, don't forget the ranch & marinara to dunk all the cheese curds in."

"You've got to have ranch," she proclaims, "It goes with everything."

Her affinity for ranch seals the deal. I formally introduce myself:

"Hi, my name is Rob & I love fast food. What's your name?"

"Claudia," adding in a coy tone, "I'm here for a couple days visiting family."

We chat about the weather for a few minutes & then I say:

"I'm going to Culver's for lunch. Would you like me to bring you something back?"

"You are the sweetest," with a giggle, "All this fast food talk is making me hungry as well. Now that I think about it I could go for a cement mixer & some cheese curds."

Eighteen minutes later returning with a sack of grease; two cement mixers; one ice cream cone & a large Pepsi. The fast food talk continues as we enjoy our succulent lunch:

"Do you like Jack-N-Box?"

"Never been to one. They don't have them where I'm from. The commercials are catchy though."

"Do you want to know why I think it's such a great place?"

"Sure," is her quizzical reply.

"It's the first place I experienced an interactive soda dispenser."

"What's that?"

"It's got the touch screen on it & you can pick what kind of soda you want with all the flavors you can imagine. For example, you can have cherry; orange; vanilla; strawberry; lime; lemon or a host of other flavors. Last time there I had a sixty four ounce orange Dr. Pepper. It was satisfying."

"Geez, that sounds sugary," as she shovels a handful of cheese curds into her mouth. 

We spend a few minutes chatting about red velvet cake with butterscotch frosting; I then ask:

"Do you want to know what another favorite thing of mine is?"

"What?"

"Double bacon cheeseburgers from Wendy's. Yummy, yummy, yummy Claudia. It's pure ecstasy when you eat one."

"Stop it," she proclaims, "I'm starting to put on weight just thinking about it."

"Sometimes when I get one I'll pay more & they'll add a couple of extra pieces of bacon. Don't forget the smoothie for dessert & a large Pepsi to wash it all down."

"Geez," in a kittenish tone, "You sure do know your fast food. I am impressed."

"I'm in love again," is my recurring thought.

the fast food eating bandits...the final chapter.

"You'll have to find another person to talk fast food with. At least until we come back in September," are his words at the pool today.

My best friend nowadays is an eighty six year old fast food loving man with a tan to boot. Today at the pool he notifies me of his imminent departure:

"Goddamn, I'm going to miss you Lenny. It won't be the same without you around. Safe travels & we'll see you when you get back in September."

"Thanks buddy," is his reply.

"I got just one request before you leave best buddy."

"What's that Rob?"

"Lenny, when you're downing a double cheeseburger from whatever place in Seattle you go to. Do one thing for me."

"Name it best buddy."

"I want you to look up at the moon & think about me. I'll do the same for you."

"You got it amigo," are the parting words as I watch his eighty six year old fast food loving ass walk out of my life until September:

the fast food eating bandits...Part 4

My best friend nowadays is an eighty six year old man with a tan to boot. Today at the pool we resumed a previous discussion as pertains to our shared lust of fatty foods:

"What did you have for breakfast today Rob?"

"Burger King, they're running a croissant with egg, cheese & sausage special."

"How much is it?"

"Two for four dollars. The whole breakfast cost me a little over five dollars. It's because I added a value size Dr. Pepper to wash it all down."

"How did it taste?"

"Delicious best buddy. It hit the spot."

The conversation shifts to potato chips:

"The wife & I were shopping at Albertson's the other day & she noticed a new kind of chip in one of the displays by the meat department. Apparently, Frito Lay puts out new flavors every so often?"

"Yep," is my immediate reply, "I eat them by the truckload."

"Any way, there was a family size bag labeled Crispy Taco. I couldn't resist so we bought a couple bags. It is delicious. I devoured an entire bag while watching golf the other day. It was impossible to put them down."

"Was it salty as hell Lenny?"

"It was good buddy," adding, "That's why I drank a two liter of Sprite to go with it."

"The fast food eating bandits Lenny. That is you & me," adding with a hearty laugh, "If they're two guys out there who deserve the moniker more than us; I've yet to meet them."

"Yep," is his simple reply.

The conversation shifts to non romance:

"Lenny, Jesus Christ, you should have seen all the foxes at the pool over the weekend. I couldn't believe my eyes."

"Who were they?"

"It was the usual crowd; plus their daughters. A welcome sight indeed."

"Did you ask any of them out?"

"A couple of the daughters. They all said no."

"For Christ sake's," adding with all seriousness, "Please tell me you weren't out there boasting about your fast food addiction again. That kind of talk is for guys only! Women are not impressed by it. Do you remember what happened when you started bragging about it to the last lady you were interested in? She lost interest quick. Try not to make the same mistake twice."

"Left it out of the conversation Lenny," in a reassuring tone "Fast food talk is for guys only."

"Good," he says while shaking his head, "What were their reasons for turning you down?"

"One had to do her nails; the other had a hair appointment; the last one had a boyfriend. It's the same shit all the time."

The conversation shifts to our passion for a Wendy's double bacon cheeseburger. It reminds me of a joke:

"Let me tell you about the best girlfriend I've ever had Lenny."

"Sure, let's hear it."

"Her name is Wendy. Do you know what makes her so great?"

"What?"

"She really knew how to take care of a man."

"What do you mean?"

"She smelt great; tasted delicious & the best part is if you didn't feel like spending any quality time with her you could always take the drive thru for a quickie."

 

the fast food eating bandits...Part 3

The morning shift at the pool begins at eight thirty. The first person encountered is my eighty six year old best friend Lenny. The two of us discuss our passion for fatty foods yet again:

"Do you want to know what the wife & I ate yesterday Rob?"

"What?"

"We had the chicken alfredo with pasta from Olive Garden. It was sensational."

"Do they still give all the bread sticks you can eat?"

"You better believe it." is his quick reply, "They throw in all the salad you want with the deal as well."

"Did you get tiramisu for dessert?"

"It's a given; it goes without saying." adding with a wide smile, "I like the stuff so much I had'm box up a couple slices to go."

"Tiramisu is one of my great loves in life Lenny," with all seriousness, "Sometimes I wish I could marry it. There's a place in Las Vegas that fixed a fresh pan every day. I'd go there a couple times a week for a square."

We chat about red velvet cake with butterscotch frosting for a minute; then I ask:

"Do you like barbecue ribs?"

"Of course," is his immediate response, "Tomorrow the wife & I are headed to Texas Roadhouse for a couple slabs."

"Do they still give you butter rolls as an appetizer?"

"As many as you want good buddy," adding, "I'll slather on the warm honey butter they bring with it. It's a new basket every five minutes when I'm there."

"Warm rolls with honey butter Lenny...yummy, yummy, yummy. It's all sorts of scrumptious," steaming rolls slathered in honey butter dancing through my head, "I'll eat a couple baskets of rolls when I'm there as well good buddy. Did you get onion rings with ranch as an additional appetizer? That's my favorite."

"It's the loaded fries with me. I'll save the onion rings for when I hit up Sonic; or some place like that."

We chat about the different flavors of Pop Tart's for a few minutes. I then ask:

"What is your favorite kind of donut?"

"That's a tough one," pausing to scratch his chin, "See, I like them all. If I had to pick one; it would probably be the maple bar with pecans; a chocolate glaze is wonderful as well. There's too many to pick from is the problem."

"I'd have to go with any kind of cake donuts buddy. Do you want to know what else is really tasty?"

"What Rob?"

"Cronuts, I've been eating those for breakfast lately. It gives me a feeling of happiness that's indescribable. It's a hell of way to start the day."

"Cronuts," he proclaims, "Can't say I've actually had one. It sure sounds like it would taste good."

"Heaven on Earth is all I can say; heaven on earth Lenny."

The conversation shifts to a non romance:

"You should have seen this gal I met at the pool the other day Lenny. She is very nice."

"Is she a resident?"

"Visiting her family for a few weeks."

"What is so great about her?"

"She's just nice Lenny. It is always pleasant to meet someone nice."

"For Christ sake's, don't tell her about your fast food addiction. Look what happened when you boasted about it to the last girl you were interested in."

"I'll be sure to keep it to myself if I ever see her again."

"Any chance you could be looking at a new girlfriend with this one," asking with a wink, nod & smile.

"Zippo Lenny; no chance whatsoever."