MY PERMANENT COSTUME

Halloween is almost here. My favorite time of year. Crisp skies, leaves changing color, lots of monster movies, what's not to love? On top of that, the Giants are in the playoffs, going up against their ancient rivals, the Dodgers. Among the things I miss the most about being a kid, I miss Halloween and trick-r-treating. We'd cover a huge area in San Jose back then, and I would fill at least three pillow cases with candy by the end of the night, then go home, divide the goods up, trade with my fellow ghouls, and stay up late watching Creature Features. In my mind, every Halloween was on a Friday or Saturday, every time the weather was perfect, and the candy bars were all full size. 

What is it about dressing up and acting like a monster, vampire, zombie, pirate, and so on that is so satisfying? Wish fulfillment? Escape? Madness?

Now, way way back, I also thought the Moon was full of green werewolves with bat wings for ears and that when said Moon was full, they'd fly out, coming down to Earth to dine on anyone fool enough to be outside. On top of that, the Boogie Man lived up there too. In my mind, the Boogie Man was a psychotic variation on Chef Boy-ar-dee, with a huge butcher knife, but he would come out from mirrors, so those were to be avoided.

I had some issues, I suppose.

Still, I'd like to go trick-r-treating in that far away land of Back Then. 

I think my writing is all an attempt to do just that. To fill the world with absurd monsters, plucky young heroes, and candy. I did this Twitter thing today, called ScreenPit, where you tweet out a logline for a movie or limited series of TV pilot. My four tweets were:

Kelly McAllister

@rkmcallister

·

3h

AMERICAN SPIRITS When her two best friends drastically change overnight, an idealistic young woman is drawn into a paranormal mystery surrounding a dark force taking over her hometown.

BOOGIE MAN A deaf woman who can communicate with the dead teams up with an obnoxious Paranormal Reality TV host to fight a homicidal ghost.

BURNING THE OLD MAN While taking their father’s ashes to Burning Man, a high strung young man and his estranged brother break down in the desert and are forced to confront their complicated past.

THE BELVEDERE JUNGLE Coming of age story of a gifted boy who escapes into wild fantasies to escape his dysfunctional, alcoholic home. Notice a trend? Everything is either a scary movie or someone trying to fix the past.

They say as a writer, you need to find your voice. My voice is a wolf howling Angry Young Man by Styx, in monotone.

Oh! Speaking of writing, I was working on Belvedere Jungle, going over the story arc, them, tone, and all that. When I write, I do a lot of rewrites, which usually involves lots of staring at the screen, listening to music, staring at the screen, cleaning the house, staring at the screen, reading a new book, and staring at the screen. And now and then, some actual writing.

So, I'm doing just that, and for some reason I decide to finally read Doctor Sleep. And the first thing in it, the first damn thing, is a quote about letting go of anger. Which is basically what the main character in Belvedere Jungle learns to do over the course of the story. It seems not like such a big deal now that I write it down, but at the time it seemed to me a sign from the Writing Gods that I was on the right path, I was where I needed to be, and all we well.

I am a magic thinker. A fool. Me.

Still, I do take it as a sign, silly as that may sound. I have chosen the Foolish Magic Thinker for my permanent costume, so what else can I do?

I hope you have chosen yourself a good costume as well. One that thrills you, at times frustrates you, but that fits you like a glove and brings joy to your weary heart on those long days that always manage to find you.

And that you avoid mirrors and green werewolves when the moon is full.

Here's a song. It's a cover of Warren Zevon's Werewolves of London by Reina del Cid & Toni Lindgren. Hope you dig it. And if you do the Twitter thing, go and give my tweets some love.

LOVING AND GIVING AND FULL OF WOE

So it's my birthday. What a strange time to have one of those. Not that they don't always seem a bit odd. But having one now, during a global pandemic with an approaching financial crisis that will most likely be worse than anything any of us have ever seen, seems a bit ostentatious. But there it is. So Happy B-Day to me and Willie Mays and Sigmund Freud and Sejong the Great and Robespierre and Valentino and  George Clooney and Orson Welles and Kaiser Wilhelm. And let's not forget that one this day the Hindenburg went down, Alfred the Great turned around in a swamp and decided to kick the Vikings out of England once and for all, and according to the calendar that hung in my kitchen when I was a kid, the ice machine was patented. And who knows what else. I'm a Taurus, with a Scorpio rising. I'm a Fire Horse. I'm Friday's Child, loving and giving or full of woe depending on which version you go with, as well as an episode of Star Trek. So yay me and May 6 and all the strange, glorious, terrible things that go with it. Now I get cake and presents, the Birthday Song sung to me, perhaps spanked, and I get to make a wish.

What to wish for in these times? Well, an end to all the death and suffering would be a good start. And a cleaner world. I do love having the skies being so very clear each day, and reading about all the animals making a comeback in this brief respite from man's bad habits. So I also wish for us all to notice how miraculous this little planet is and to resolve to treat it better, with dignity and love and intelligence. In fact, I wish for more dignity, love, and intelligence in everything we do. No more economic disparity. No more "privatization" of things like health care and prisons and national resources. More National Parks and preserves. More space exploration please. More money for schools, less tax breaks for gigantic corporations. Another season of Undone on Amazon would be nice. A World Series between the SF Giants and the NY Yankees is a must. And if I may go back to schools for a moment, more funding for arts education in our public schools. All the arts. Music, theatre, dance, painting, sculpture. All of it. And please, pretty please, get the entire current GOP out. They can all retire, and lives their lives on a little ranch somewhere. But enough is enough. And no more toilet paper in the time of the virus jokes. Please. There too, enough is enough.

As for me personally, what do I wish for? Well, a little more economic stability wouldn't hurt. I'd like  to finish the current screenplay I'm working on and have it actually produced. I'd like Lisa and I to take a long trip when this is over, a road trip all around the country. We'd first head west, visit my family in California, go to Disneyland for a month, then take another month to amble across the continent, ending up in NYC for another month to visit Ryan and Lauren, all my old friends, and take in a ton of shows on Broadway, off-Broadway, and in the Indie Theatre world. I'd like to live in a world where we could all take a trip like that. I think, if all things were equal, we could. Easily. But too much wealth is concentrated among far too few people. But I digress. I'd like to put on stage the productions of Annie, Sweeney Todd, and School of Rock that were in rehearsal when the virus struck. I'd like to go to Machu Picchu, too. I And I'd like my dog to live forever please.

So, that's my blog today. All about me. But it's my birthday, and that's what I chose to write about, because I am loving and giving and full of woe and I don't really plan m blog, I just get up each day, sit down at my computer, and write whatever comes to mind. Thank you, cosmos, for allowing me to exist. Thanks, universe, for forests and seas and animals and flowers. Thanks, Gods of Love, for leading me to the Magician on the corner of Rivington and Essex on that August night to meet my love. Thanks, world. Even now, with all that's going on, I love you.

Here's a song. It's Happy Birthday to Me, by Cracker.