the ten albums that changed my life

ripped from my article at Intrepid Media

10. Rio (Duran Duran, released 5/10/83)

Was Duran Duran the best male pop band of the 1980s? Probably not. But they were the best looking, their videos were the most adventurous and they had the catchiest songs -- even if none of them made any sense. I have just described everything that mattered in the '80s. The three-headed Taylor crew (drummer Roger, guitarists Andy and John), androgynous synth wiz Nick Rhodes, and charismatic front man Simon LeBon were focused and ready to take over the world. This album launched their superstardom and is the solitary reason why everytime I find myself sitting at the front of a boat, I feel compelled to yell, "HER NAME IS RIO AND SHE DANCES ON THE SAND!" Seriously.

Songs you should know: Rio, Hungry Like the Wolf, Save A Prayer

9. Raising Hell (Run-DMC, rel. 7/18/86)

Sometimes it's best to have your back placed firmly against the wall. After two pretty successful albums, childhood friends Joseph "Run" Simmons and Darryl "DMC" McDaniels had reached a pivotal crossroad: commercialize their music by merging further with rock, or stay true to the hip-hop culture of the streets of New York. What resulted was enough of both to make everyone happy, and arguably the most important album in rap history. They singlehandedly made a conservative MTV (yeah, I know) open the doors to rap music and set a bar for cohesion that even they couldn't live up to. There is nothing on this album to add or subtract. It is, as one of the songs on the album states, perfection. RIP Jam Master Jay.

Songs you should know: Walk This Way, My Adidas, Peter Piper

8. It Takes A Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (Public Enemy, rel. 4/19/88)

You will never understand how much I needed this album. The Bomb Squad's production, layered with multiple samples per song in the days before you had to pay for them, was fiery, relentless and unprecedented. ("Rebel Without A Pause" is the dopest beat ever made, period.) Chuck D wasn't even the best rapper on his own label (scroll down to album #5), but his threats felt like promises and his arguments were indisputable. And long before he became better known as the buffoonish headliner of several VH-1 dating reality shows, Flavor Flav was the buffoonish sidekick to the most influential rap group of its' time. But Flav never changed, the times changed. Without his mercurial court jester, the whole thing would've never worked.

Songs you should know: Don't Believe the Hype, Bring the Noise, Night of the Living Bassheads

7. Abbey Road (The Beatles, rel. 9/26/69)

The last Beatles album recorded (though not the last released), the bickering Fab Four had agreed to play nice long enough to end on a positive note. This is their funkiest album and also their most sublime. Abbey Road is the CD I play for my Beatle-hating friends without telling them who it is. Inexplicably, after nodding their head in agreement for minutes, they will ask who's playing, at which point, I will smack them over the head with a picture of Paul McCartney and storm out of the room. "Because" has some of their best harmonies ever. "You Never Give Me Your Money" is just amazing. I liked "Something" enough to put it on my wedding favor mix CD. And I liked the album enough to parody its famous cover on our wedding CD's cover.

Songs you should know: Come Together, Something, Here Comes the Sun

6. Purple Rain (Prince & the Revolution, rel. 6/25/84)

Despite my constant, romanticized comments about the greatness of the 1970s, so far we are seeing where my heart really lies. We will never see the likes of Mr. Prince Rogers Nelson again: part Hendrix, part James Brown, part Dylan, part Sly Stone, and still somehow completely, unabashedly original. I was more a Michael kid than a Prince kid, but the power of this soundtrack (and the accompaying movie, which still moves me despite its glaring flaws) was undeniable. The seamless blend of rock, soul, power ballads and synthesizers was mind blowing then, as it is still is today.

Songs you should know: Let's Go Crazy, Purple Rain, When Doves Cry


5. Bigger and Deffer (LL Cool J, rel. 7/1/87)

"I don't run from the cops/Makin' suckers jock/And I'm only 18/Makin' more than your pops."

Like OutKast's ATLiens, this was the risky sophomore album that could've killed his career. But the gamble paid off and it paid off so violently, that 19-year-old James Todd Smith became the reason I wrote my first rap. I've heard quotes from Bob Dylan fans who say that his songs were clues on how to live your life. Yeah, that's pretty much what happened to me with Bigger and Deffer.

On the very first song, "I'm Bad", his confidence is so adamant, it's infectious. What other song begins with "No rapper can rap quite like I can/I'll take a musclebound man and put his face in the sand?" He delivers well-written, imaginative tale after the other: the all-purpose girlfriend of our dreams in "Kanday," the ins and outs of a run-down local haunt ("The Bristol Hotel"), a vain but witty day-in-the-life excerpt ("The Do Wop"). We all know that rap and testosterone are nearly inseparable. But on track 9, he did the unthinkable. He made a soft rap love song (the legendary "I Need Love") with such gravity that even the haters had to sing along. It was a difficult balance. Go back and listen to Big Daddy Kane's attempts to cover similar ground. They sounded ridiculous, even back then, and precipitated his demise. LL's wild brashness made you want to reach the moon as well. Still does, in fact, 20 years later.

Songs you should know: I'm Bad, I Need Love, Go Cut Creator Go

4. Off the Wall (Michael Jackson, rel. 8/10/79)

It seems funny to say it now, but his career was thought to be dead. Even more dead that it appears to be at the moment, with his face all chopped and bleached, with child molestation charges as plentiful as the Los Angeles air has smog. He was going to be another Leif Garrett, probably, or Shaun Cassidy, a footnote. Whatever happened to whats his name from the Jackson 5? The critical and financial failure of The Wiz -- in which he'd appeared the year before as the Scarecrow -- didn't help. Enter Quincy Jones, the disco era, and one pissed off 20-year-old Virgo. What results is a masterpiece. Dude had Stevie, McCartney and David Foster writing songs for him. It is impossible to leave this album in a bad mood.

Songs you should know: Rock With You, Don't Stop 'Till You Get Enough, I Can't Help It

3. Midnight Marauders (A Tribe Called Quest, rel. 11/9/93)

Things I remember as clearly as I remember anything: The day I bought the cassette. The first time I heard it in its entirety. Tripping off the bass kicks on "We Can Get Down." Buying it on CD a few months later. Listening to "Electric Relaxation" for hours at a time. Staring at the cover for days, trying to name every rapper featured. The first time I saw the video for "Award Tour." Arguing with some crazy girl over the dilemma posed in "Sucka Nigga." Hoping that one day I'd grow up to be as cool as Q-Tip. Digging through my parents' vinyl, trying to find the original samples. Spending a late night out with my boy Shawn that was eerily similar to the scenario described in "Midnight." Being amazed at the effortless chemistry between Tip and scrappy co-star Phife Dawg. Many people prefer their previous album, The Low End Theory, but to me, it's no contest. Marauders is more assured, hits harder, and, along with The Chronic, is possibly the most universally respected rap production made in the last twenty years. It gave me permission to be me.

Songs you should know: Award Tour, Electric Relaxation, Oh My God

2. Thriller (Michael Jackson, rel. 12/1/82)

This is like describing the merits of oxygen. I know my limitations.

Songs you should know: Thriller, Beat It, Billie Jean

1. Talking Book (Stevie Wonder, rel. 10/27/72)

C'mon, now. How did you not know that Stevie Wonder would find his way to the top of this list? This is the only album that I own on cassette, vinyl, and CD, as well as the internet. I discovered it sometime in high school and it seems to follow me wherever I go. I directed one of my own plays as a freshman in college and closed it with "Blame It on the Sun." Made it through a disappointing relationship thanks to "Looking for Another Pure Love." (Jeff Beck's guitar solo here is one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard in my life.) Wooed my wife with "You Are the Sunshine of My Life." And I refuse to die until I learn how to play "You and I (We Can Conquer the World)" on piano.

Over Thriller, you say? Better than the album you compared to oxygen, you say? Well, Thriller makes me appreciate greatness, but Talking Book makes me want to do something great. It, like many of the works listed here, was the work of someone who finally burst through after knocking on the door so long. And that encourages me. Because I'm still knocking.

Songs you should know: You Are the Sunshine of My Life, Superstition, I Believe (When I Fall In Love It Will Be Forever)

The next 10 (for those who care): ATLiens, OutKast; The Beatles (The White Album), The Beatles; Late Registration, Kanye West; Licensed to Ill, The Beastie Boys; The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, Lauryn Hill; New Edition, New Edition; Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, Raekwon the Chef; Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd., The Monkees; The Revival, Tony! Toni! Tone; Speakerboxx/The Love Below, OutKast.

oh, what a night (c) Missy

Last night was bananas.

The home team went out on the town to check out Cornel West and Tavis Smiley in Hollywood. The former was promoting his spoken word CD, Never Forget: A Journey of Revelations. It was a crowded but laid back club vibe, DJ Rashida killed the ones and twos. They played four tracks from the CD and Cornel West commented on each of them, some of his comments turned into mini-dissertations. The knowledge given out was totally appreciated and validated a lot of what I had been thinking.





Then, afterwards, I met David Ritz, author of a host of well-known black music biographies (most notably the one they used for the Ray Charles biopic, and of course, the book I've been obsessing over since high school: Divided Soul -- The Life of Marvin Gaye. I met Levar Burton, which was a trip because I was named after him. Those pics are on the MySpace page. Moms was a big fan of Roots when she was carrying your boy. Hence my middle name. I had an extra cool exchange with Anthony Mackie. Then, came this.





The zoom is ridic on the last one, fa sho, but it was kinda crowded getting to Dr. West and wifey did the best she could. Then, we sat and danced to the 80s and 90s jams and watched some of our hype peers do the Kid N' Play, the wop and the Roger Rabbit. (Amongst other classic moments.)

AND MY PISTONS JUST BEAT THE CELTICS IN BOSTON!!!! Just left a message regarding the game on Michael Bivins's MySpace page. We gangsta like that. They want to come up w/ some new East darlings every year. But we're the dudes. Just face it.

I'm going to have a podcast soon. Probably after the New Year. More details to come. I have the name and the basic concept. But I'll let you know the full, when I have the full.

The most beautifullest white woman of them all

Elizabeth Taylor has been on my mind the last couple days. It started when I was watching the DVD commentary of The Graduate the other day and Mike Nichols was talking about the experience of directing Taylor and Richard Burton in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, and what a contrast that film was stylistically to The Graduate, which he filmed the following year. (The fact that these were the first two films of Nichols's career speaks to what a beast he is -- and continues to be -- as a director, but I digress.)



So that got me thinking about Virginia Woolf and what a great film it is, and how long it's been since I've seen it, and what an impact it made on me when I first saw it in high school. (I really do need to cop it on DVD.) There is a scene in my romantic comedy, When It All Falls Down, that is seriously indebted to it. the main characters, Kenny and Jamilah, have recently broken up, and are bitter at one another, yet still, obviously in love. Kenny reveals an embarrassing secret about Jamilah to her family (in one of those moments where comedy segueways violently into drama) and one of Kenny's retorts, pulled directly from this movie (and Edward Albee's play) is, "And that, my friends, is how you play Hump the Hostess."



Sometimes I get fixated on people and they become omnipresent in my world until I stop thinking about them. My Netflix movies showed up Saturday, and one of hers was there -- The Sandpiper -- which I've never seen, but look forward to. A Place in the Sun, another tremendous influence on me in my film school days, played on Turner Classic the other night, and another of her films, Butterfield 8, (for which she won her first Oscar) comes on in about an hour.

Then, today comes this news item. Only Liz Taylor could do a show in the middle of the strike and get love from both sides. And man, her and James Earl Jones, on the same stage? Where was I at? It's not like I had $2500, but I'm saying.

We just don't have stars like her anymore. She matured from child star to ingenue to true actress (I could imagine cats was clowning when it was announced that she was going to play the frumpy, alcoholic, older Martha in Virginia Woolf. But she gained 35 pounds and came with it, to win her second Oscar.) Her 575 husbands, legendary glamorous gowns, tireless charity work for AIDS, and most of all, the amazing performances she gave in film after film (although it took me years to forgive that Cleopatra b.s.) Much respect.

As for me, I just got done watching the Patriots squeak by the Ravens in a heck of a game on Monday night. My Bengals are frazzled and stumbling as usual. It took my alma mater's upset of #2 West Virginia to make this a not as horrible football weekend.

The short script is just about done. I renamed it Parkside Boulevard, after a street not too far from my house. I grew up on Freeman Street, but hey, face it, Parkside Boulevard sounds better. I've got so many ideas for other stories, scripts, songs, etc. But with the day job and stuff, time is short. I just keeping jotting them down. They will come forth eventually.

Thanksgiving Eve report

I've had a GREAT four day weekend. The kind that makes it difficult to return to work, as I must tomorrow morning. Spent some quality time with the wife. Wrote a new short, 8 pages long, called Golden Street, an introduction to the TV pilot I'll be writing soon. My wife thinks it's hilarious. I'll do a few revisions and send it off to Rickie Castaneda of Storytime Entertainment who's helping me develop this idea. The plan is to film the short, write the pilot and make it a part of a package as a TV show once the strike ends, whenever that magical day should come.

It's basically a show about growing up in a neighborhood similar to mine in the 1980s. The short is pretty funny. It's loosely based on an old Intrepid piece I did, "The Five Week War," but also makes allusions to some of the show's main characters and potential episodes.

Of course, you'll get all the details as things progress. My Bengals made my day today, opening up the can of beat down I've been waiting on them to deliver all season on the Tennessee Titans 35-6. Both of my fantasy teams have Carson Palmer and Chad Johnson, so I should be sitting pretty this week. My nigga Killa Chad is a fool.



Had an interesting evening. Saw this abstract but ahead of it's time film on the Sundance Channel called Who Are You, Polly Magoo? It's a French film made by an American director, William Klein, about an American model who is the subject of a French TV documentary. It spoofs the modeling industry and has a lot to say about how insecure men try to tear down and objectify beautiful women. The director is played by the recently departed Phillipe Noiret, who film heads may know as Pablo Neruda in Il Postino or from his work in Cinema Paradiso. It was non-linear and confusing at times, like a lot of French New Wave films, but as I said, still enjoyable and worth repeated viewings.



The female lead, Dorothy McGowan, was a cutie pie in that anorexic model kinda way, and amazingly natural, considering that it was her first and only film performance. (Apparently, she quit modeling after the film's release and dropped out of public view.)



Anyways, I'm sitting here folding clothes and listening to the audio commentary for The Graduate with Mike Nichols and Steven Soderbergh. It's both intimidating and encouraging. Trying to immerse myself in a world of film has proven far more difficult than it was in film school. But what can you do?

Chrisette Michele is the truth!

It's not like I didn't know this. But last night's show at the Temple Bar confirmed it. First, a lovely opening set by Jean Baylor, formerly of Zhane.




And then, the truth. So personable and talented. Evidence the live footage:

Good Girl



Be OK



Speaking of R&B songstresses, Intrepid Media just published my review of Alicia Keys' latest album, As I Am. I'm 50-50 on it, check out the review for the details.

What's hood, y'all? A lot going on, as usual. Me and my homegirl Tab participated in the Walk for Lupus in Santa Monica. A lot of us were there reppin' in memory of J Dilla.







Otherwise, I'm about to start writing a TV pilot for Rickie Castaneda and still rewriting my novel, Somewhere Between Here and There. the writers' strike has kind of slowed down some of my submission momentum, but that's just giving me time to put some more clips in the chamber.

And, finally, a quick Marvin shoutout, because I haven't done it yet.

Photograph Smile

I don't even have a good excuse. As usual, I've been living, rewriting my novel, fighting the urge to just become a full-time couch potato when I'm not doing creative things. I've done a lot since the last entry and there's a lot I could tell you.

Instead I've come with a peace offering. Photos. Some of them, you may have seen before, but I'll try to keep it unprecedented.

First there was the free Common concert in Santa Monica I went to the day Finding Forever was released.



My feelings with this album fluctuate. (Basically I'm obsessed with "The People," "Southside," and "Black Maybe," am indifferent to most of the rest.) But I'm proud of Com and look forward to seeing him in American Gangster.

My glamorous life as a writer. Look at all the fun I'm having!

The infamous Questlove DJ set from a few weeks ago.



Some pics from my Mom's visit out here in June. The non-ghetto candy related pics, anyway. At our fave seafood spot in San Pedro, the 22nd Street Landing.


Man, everybody's trying to be my stepdad!


Moms trying to figure out how we lost out on our inheritance.


Moms is ill coming off that D-line, yo


Back in February, I did my first photo shoot (as a photographer) for a young shoe designer/model named Amanda Raye. Here's some of the best:


I always loved this one. I told her it would make a great album cover should she ever, you know, decide to become the new queen of r&b soul or something.





Hopefully that will keep you occupied until I hit you with the next stunner. It's been a busy year, and I think the best is yet to come.

Ghetto Candies, Vol. 1

My mom's visit to Los Angeles was therapeutic, I think, for us and for her. (She got to escape the T for a minute and I got to escape the j.o. Fair trade.) Holla @ me on Facebook if you trying to see all the pictures and stuff.

But I'd like to direct your attention to the San Pedro portion of our trip. The part when we went to go see this place.


Me and Tree had been there before, but stepping in was like a window into my childhood.


And it got me reminiscin' on the ghetto candies of 'hoodmas past. Like:



That's right. I come straight for the chest right out the gate. Never has fake citrus been so appreciated as when these ol' sour Lemon Heads hit the 'hood. I remember cats would get called stingy for like, half their childhood, if they had some of these on them and didn't share. (And you didn't want to get called stingy. It was like having leprosy.) I don't know why we was acting like times was so hard. The corner stores back in T-Town was charging like a quarter for these bad boys back in the '80s. They was straight golden, no pun intended.

The fundamental staple of any 'hood diet.

Plus, once you emptied the box, it made a nice harmonica.



Lemon Heads was the gateway "teeth rotter/on the way to diabetes already and a ni**a's only nine" candy. From the same evil monarchy that kept mad dentists in business came:






I almost fainted when I saw some of these candies, dog. Alexander the Grape? In the summer of '85, I saw Bill Armstrong get dropkicked in the larynx over some Alexander the Grape! Even now, as an adult, I considered holding the place up to get some Johnny Apple Treats. Boston Baked Beans was hit or miss. But I guess getting me to eat anything affliated with Boston while this guy was terrorizing my Bad Boys was akin to the Camp David Agreement.

You've gotta give it to those cutthroat capitalists over at Ferrara Pan. It was a nifty way to introduce kids to fruits without actually making want to eat actual fruits. Which leads me to my next ghetto candy:


Wrong wrong wrong wrong on so many levels. To my knowledge, there were two variations on this candy. There was the kind that was more prevalent in my hood, where it was a candy and the end of the tip was painted pink to suggest a lit cigarette. Then, there was the kind in San Pedro, which my wife said she grew up with.

1) Cigarette looking paper conceals the gum inside. Perfect for faux Don Johnson-look by Miami Vice watching nine-year-olds.

2) Blow the cigarette and real smoke comes out. Perfect for addicting small children to the real thing!

3) Peel off the paper and chew the gum inside. Fun for the whole family!

While we were talking about Philip Morris's feeder system, disguised as harmless childhood fun, my Mom told us that when she was a kid, they actually had the name of real cigarettes (Camel, etc.) on the candies. Where was the FDA when this was going on? They might've as well have just put real cigarettes in there, laced with cinnamon just to suck the kids in. Speaking of know better, do better:



I loved me some Cherry Sours, but damn. They might as well have just called 'em Jelly Junglebunnies and put Stepin' Fetchit on the cover. Got me looking at Ferrara Pan a little suspect.

Next time: The federal government introduces prostitution to the 'hood by releasing a candy called Sugar Daddy, Chick-O-Sticks as hide-and-go-get-it collateral, and the greatest 'hood candy of all time.

Itzsoweezee ( yeah, right)

As I continue my week-long descent into madness trying to get an editing program (any editing program!) to capture the images that I shot last weekend, I thought about my favorite De La Soul video. (There's no rhyme or reason, that's just how my brain works.) The song is called "Itzsoweezee," the irony being that I am at wits end trying to figure out how I'm going to edit my movie. I thought actually editing it would be the hard part -- and not really hard, just time consuming -- I had no idea that actually getting a program to a) accept my camera or b) accept my footage in the format that it was finalized in would take up most of my evenings and that I would still have nothing to show for it.

If you're reading this and you know something about this kind of thing, please help.

Anyway, here's the De La Soul video.

De La Soul - Itzsoweezee
Music Video Codes

Definitely a slept-on song in their canon, but the video always moved me because it's so fun. It took me back to high school. Well, not my high school , per se, but high school in general. You'd have a hard time shooting a video like this today, especially with such an all-star cast of rappers. People wouldn't let their guard down enough to be silly for 3 minutes and then, the cheerleaders would have to be naked or something. It just wouldn't work. Sad.

Happily, my mom's coming into town tomorrow and she'll be here all week. It's good. I need a break from this computer before I throw it out the window.

Takin' You Higher

Okayplayer hipped me to this cool Vanity Fair article on the recently unearthed Sly Stone. Many who know me know that I've been a big fan of his music since '99 or so. I was fortunate to interview his brother Fred, sister Rose, and former trumpet player/baby mama Cynthia Robinson back in 2000 when I was working on a piece about him.

There's nothing I can really say here that isn't said better in the article on how much Sly's rise and fall meant to music both then and now. Let's just say that his decision to come back and play live gigs is a really big deal to people who know their music.

Still trying to figure out some things about my friend's camera that will allow me to edit and upload my short, tentatively titled, Chris Short: Toddler Reporter. Hopefully, my problems will be resolved by tomorrow. (My problems that relate to this film anyway. All my other problems will continue on, uninterrupted as usual.)

My sinuses are draining today, which is not cool. As usual, it's a reflection on the variable temperatures out here, plus the AC at my job, plus the lack of AC in my car/at the crib. And the fact that I've hardly been sleeping this week thanks to my newfound obsession, Rhapsody.


Just started watching that new BET show, Baldwin Hills, last night. At first, I was all pumped that middle-class black kids were being given their shine, but all the negative Inglewood comments left kind of a nasty taste in my mouth. For those who don't know: Baldwin Hills is not a city, it is a neighborhood. It is at the top of several hills that are bordered by rough spots like the Jungle (where Denzel was kicking it with Eva Mendez in Training Day) and very nice black neighborhoods like Ladera Heights and View Park. What's funny was how they was trying to talk about Inglewood like it's the 'hood, then they ended up kicking it with Stacy at a nice cafe in where? Inglewood! Basically if cats from Baldwin Hills is trying to eat or shop, but stay close to the crib, they gotta come to the 'Wood. Fifty dollars say we see these cats at The Serving Spoon before the show ends. Get outta here wit all that shullbit.

But I still liked the show. Didn't know that little model girl grew up to be so spoiled.

Watched the Charm School reunion. Why them things be so heavily overedited?



I'm not usually into Mo'nique, but her speeches were riveting. It looks like this cool Vanity Fair article Larissa is angling to be the new New York. And why do I always come out of these things feeling sorry for LaLa?

Here's my playlist on Rhapsody (on shuffle) just since I started setting this entry up:

1. Outside My Door -- Can
2. Stop -- J. Dilla
3. I'll Be Faithful -- Dusty Springfield
4. Freddie's Dead -- MFSB
5. You Are the Way You Are (demo) -- Leon Ware
6. Journey Into You -- Leon Ware
7. Lonely -- Bebel Gilberto
8. Babylon -- OutKast
9. If You Play Your Cards Right -- Syleena Johnson
10. Freeprise -- Little Barrie
11. Oh No (You Can't Be Serious) -- Carl Thomas
12. Good Girl -- Chrisette Michele
13. Tomorrow's Dream -- Al Green

If Summer League is any indication, Yi is going to be the NBA Rookie of the Year. But my man Stuckey doesn't seem to be far behind. Joe Dizzle kills 'em again.

More than meets the eye

Wow. Just came from seeing Transformers and, wow. What was the last summer movie that actually lived up to expectations for me? Spider-Man, probably. But it's been awhile. The buzz on this one was deafening and reinforced that it was something that I really needed to see. Let me tell you, it didn't disappoint. The special effects, the story line, the acting, etc. There were some weird plot things that didn't quite make sense, that, in any other movie would've been insufferable. But the action is so hype and the robots are so menacing/look so real, many obvious sins are forgiven. Michael Bay redeems himself.

Side note: I'm sitting there watching the film thinking, is Megan Fox just a white Meagan Good?




I guess we should ask Tyrese, since he's now acted in movies alongside both of them. Anyway, go see the movie.

What have I been doing? I saw several movies at the Los Angeles Film Festival. The one I liked the most is called Rocket Science and if you're into quirky stuff like the kinds of movies Wes Anderson makes, you're going to love it. It's about this nerdy cat in Jersey who goes out for the debating team. Problem is, he stutters. That's the logline, but there's so much else going on this film, you absolutely have to see it. It's hysterical, but also a very grounded, honest movie.

Oh yeah, and during the LA Film Fest also sat in on a free interview that Elvis Mitchell did with this guy...



It takes awhile to get Pharrell to open up, but once he did, he told hilarious stories about battles with record labels, what movies inspired him, and how he's not nearly as technologically savvy as his music might lead you to think. All in all, it was an honor be near someone whose music I admire so much. I have most of the interview on tape on my camcorder, but I seem to have misplaced the wire that would allow me to connect it to my computer.

Otherwise, just finished up my rewrite of Chapter 2 of Somewhere Between Here and There. My professor was very impressed by my rewrite of the first chapter, so hopefully, I'm on the right track to getting published.

Yesterday was interesting. Not only did I shoot another short, one that I think will be funny. My co-star this time was this person...



Francois Truffaut once said something to the effect that, "You're not really a director until you direct children." Well, I earned my stripes on this one. Perhaps I shouldn't say that. I still have to edit it, which I hope to finish this week. Basically, he plays a toddler sports reporter who insults my character -- a basketball star -- and then we fight, a fight that he easily wins. You'll see. It'll be up on YouTube and MySpace and all the usual places this time. And Shawn Parker will be hitting the 'net soon in some other places. I promise.

In the middle of making the film, we were at the house all day watching Live Earth. I'm always happy to feel like I'm a part of something bigger than myself and watching it certainly made me feel this way. There were quite a few highlights, and here's one of them. People who know me know I heart my fellow Aquarian, Alicia Keys.



As well as John Legend and Corinne Bailey Rae.



Apparently I missed Duran Duran (sob) and Ludacris, but hey, I can only do so much, right?