THE YEAR OF THINKING MAGICALLY

It was Groundhog Day yesterday. I am told it was snowing a lot in Pennsylvania where Punxsutawney Phil does his thing. I always thought it was some remnant from native culture, but according the to internet, which these days doesn't mean a lot, it is an old Christian thing from Germany. Which is kind of weird. Predicting weather from animals just seems so pagan to me. So fun. I don't associate a lot of fun pastimes with ancient Christianity during the Dark Ages.

But I digress.

It was snowing. Hard. And as such, the big rodent stayed in its hole, signifying more winter. Or maybe more social distancing. Or more crazy folks saying there are Jewish space lasers starting forest fires. 

Any and all of those sound about right to me.

But I am a semi-magic thinker. I believe in Bigfoot and UFOs and ghosts. 

Don't get me wrong. I also dig science, know the world is a globe, and am certain there is no cabal of Satan worshipping baby killing elites out there.

When magical thinking goes becomes a format for justifying your world views, its time to give it up. Any belief system that ignores the clear reasons for things like economic inequality and points folks towards made up Boogie Men and Boogie Women is, it seems to me, obvious manipulations of the masses for political gain. 

And that sucks.

Magic thinking should be something fun to do when you're out in the woods and think you heard a Sasquatch, not a reason to storm the Capitol and kill someone with a fire extinguisher.

I wonder if those folks who think there are devil worshipping baby eaters are just finding a way to redirect their unexpressed and sublimated empathy for all the suffering children in the world who are actually in distress due to policies and corporations they have endorsed and supported? 

I hope so. I would humanize them a bit.

So yeah, I believe there will be more of this Winter of Our Discontent. 

But it will pass. I think this summer will be glorious. I think most of us have had enough of the fear and loathing and anger and dismay that have run rampant across the globe. We may have to hunker down for six more weeks. We may have to endure more feckless memes about Sleepy Joe and the Squad and who knows what else. We will probably have to read more about Bobert and Greene and the Orange One himself. 

But I think something has changed inside of us this winter. I think our souls have been tempered and strengthened. 

What has changed will reveal itself in good time.

I can't wait.

Until then, I will be in my own little hole with Phil, Sasquatch, Yeti, and Nessie.

Here's a song. It's Office of Love by Caamp. (yes, it's spelled with two "a"s. And it's groovy)

SNOW FALLING ON BIGFOOT ON MARS

It's snowing here in Denver. I always take snow as a sign to write, for a multitude of reasons. First, and most likely foremost (but that is up for debate, as my mind is a maelstrom of reasons and memory, songs and quote, movie clips and fantasies.  Be that as it may, and regardless of what is indeed foremost in my brain today) the snow speaks to me and says "keep writing" because I find snow magic and rare due to growing up in San Jose, CA. I've written about this a lot, and my latest screenplay is all about that, among other things. 

Also, one of my great mentors who has gone on to other lands lives in the snow, speaks to me through the snow, and repeats his last words to me, which were "keep writing". 

On top of that, at the end of It's a Wonderful Life, which has been my go to movie since I was in fifth grade and happened upon it one afternoon all by my lonesome and was completely swept away, when George Bailey finally wants his life back, he goes to the bridge where he tried to end it all, and starts to cry, and pleads for his life back. And it starts to snow. And that to me was a sign of providence. Of mercy. 

Also, snow is cool.

So snow tells me to write, and I obey. 

I write everyday anyway, pretty much. Although this past year has been strange in patterns and schedules and life in general. Even so, in this past year of global pandemic; massive protests against racial injustice; economic fear; selling the house I grew up in and dealing with all the ghosts that come with such an endeavor; an election that seemed to last forever culminating in the sacking of the Capitol by a bunch of seemingly brainless zealots- even with all that, snow gives me a sense of magic possibility. Of hope. 

Today, I think I will work on one of my Bigfoot projects, a storyline that was born as an alternate to what we ended up going with for a feature I worked on. 

Yes, I said feature. Sounds pretentious. But it's a fact, and I got to join the WGA because of said project, and I am rather proud of that. So there it is. A feature I worked on. 

Anyhow, I have this other idea in my maelstrom, and it would like to come out and play. 

And some jack ass in Oklahoma is trying to pass a law making it legal to hunt Bigfoot. Which really pisses me off. (click HERE for an article about it)

So Bigfoot needs some love. So peace. Some understanding. 

And a guy who finds snow magic to write about him.

Of course, Bigfoot is not a singular male person. It's a species. They are all over the world, if you believe the shows on Discovery, History, Travel Channel, and so on.

I do. 

I think Bigfeet travel between worlds, and appear to inspire us. To restore our sense of wonder and mystery. 

I wonder, when we start to colonize Mars and other planets, if the universe will provide us with mythological, cryptozoological beasts on our new worlds. 

I hope so. 

I think we need a bit of magical thinking, a bit of life to remain unexplained. 

And I'd much rather believe in Bigfoot than the Big Lie that led the zealots to the Capitol.

Also, if believing in Bigfoot ever leads me to think it's a good thing to storm a building and try and kill people, I will rethink my belief system.

Here's a song. It's I Believe by R.E.M.

THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE

I like UFOs. Always have. Bigfoot too, of course. And the Loch Ness Monster. I love all those mysteries, legends, beasts the wander the back roads. There is something both frightening and entrancing about them. About the unknown. I watch all the shows: Finding Bigfoot; Ancient Aliens; Monster Quest; Fuller House. Any show that has a monster or alien in it, I am there. Much to Lisa' chagrin. Last night, I finished a thing on Netflix called Declassified, all about aliens, reverse engineering, conspiracy, and the like. Not a lot of new stuff, and way to many talking heads and way too few shots of ships in the sky. Still, it had some good moments. One guy was talking about how we are at least a century behind in technology. That we were cooking with gas at the turn of the last century, metaphorically speaking, with the advent of the airplane, the automobile, and people like Nikola Tesla creating all sorts of amazing things, including supposedly a way to harness clean, limitless energy. And there was more on the way, according to this guy, mainly coming from reverse engineered alien spacecraft and direct contact with people from other worlds. And then it all got shut down. His theory is that the powers that be, those in charge of the oil and gas and coal, did not want this new technology to come out, because it would mean more autonomy for us all, and less power for them. This is not a new idea. I've heard variations on it many times. The government is sitting on all the cures to our ailments. Or at least a lot of them. Cars that run on water; little power generators that run forever with no pollution; anti-gravity devices; maybe even time travel. But in the context of current events, I found this theory much more interesting. What if now, due mainly to mismanagement of our world leaders, at long last we get to see the wreck from Roswell? And find out what was in those papers Tesla had locked in his safe that were confiscated by the Feds the day he died? Seems plausible to me. We have this global pandemic, mass hysteria, confusion, and anger. The Lunatics are on the path, the Fox is in the Henhouse, and disease is in the White House. I can easily envision some worker bee who loses a loved one to the virus, whose job it is to watch the storeroom where they keep at least some of the secret spacecraft. Maybe she's felt we should all see this stuff anyway, but out of a sense of duty, has done her job and kept them tucked away. Then this anonymous guardian of galactic secrets loses her mother and father in one week, and a best friend. And she gets angry. She turns on the TV and sees some our our illustrious leaders saying we are going to need to sacrifice a few folks for the economy. And she turns and looks at these machines that could save the economy. And she takes out her key, or types in a code, or does whatever it is she needs to do to open up the floodgates, and presto, the world gets alien tech.

Maybe that's a bit fanciful. But if ever there was a time for us to hear from the aliens en masse, it's now. And if we can't have that, then we should at the very least start listening to scientists more often. They may not be the "end all" on matters of energy, medicine, and climate. But I think they know more about it than most members of congress or the folks in the West Wing. I mean, let's look at the past five months. Pretty much everything the science community said would happen has happened. Everything the powers that be said would happen has not.  It doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that rocket scientists are smarter than the average Jane or Joe. That's why they're rocket scientists. Now, that doesn't make the ethical. I'm sure that there are some rocket scientists who are selfish assholes who treat their families poorly. Even so. I'd like to hear more from them and less from politicians and CEOs who I am fairly certain don't have our best interests in their hearts.

Mostly, though, I'd like to hear from the aliens. Or Bigfoot. In fact, I'd like an alien to give a press conference with Bigfoot. The alien could talk first. Go on about how they're here, have been here all along, and now is the time for them to share their knowledge and take us on trips to the stars. Then the alien could bring out a Sasquatch for a short Q and A session. And then and at the end of it, they could bring out our President and have Bigfoot slap the shit out of Trump.  I know, it's a bit mean spirited. He's an old, doddering fool who clearly doesn't have a lot going on in the cranium. And revenge is a bad way to go about things. But man, that guy really gets my goat sometimes. 

Anyhow. That's where I am today. Thinking of aliens, Bigfoot, and our current shortage of good leadership at the national level. I think this is due to the time being out of joint. To seeing people out on the street acting like the virus is gone already, that we are past the crisis, that all we need to do is open up and not test and all will be as it was. I feel like we're on the Titanic, the band is playing, and people are going about things like all will be well. Don't get me wrong. All will be well. But not if we pretend we didn't hit an iceberg. I'm not saying we should give in to fear either. We need to use just a bit of our little brains, and figure out how to fit as many people as we can on the life boats.

Ok. Weird rant. Spread the love, look to the skies, and if you know anything about the aliens, let us know.

Here's a song. It's And the Band Played On by Moxy Fruvous.

TV MADE ME A CRYPTOZOOLOGIST

When I was a kid, I wanted- more than anything else- to see something supernatural. A ghost, Bigfoot, a UFO. Something.  At night, I would scan the skies. When camping, I would listen keenly for something large lumbering through the Sierra Nevada.

I blame TV.

Every Friday night, on KTVU Channel 2- which at the time was what we used to call an independent station- there was a show called Creature Features, hosted by Bob Wilkins. Creature Features was a double feature of horror movies hosted by Mr. Wilkins; who always provided a mix of wry commentary and cool info, things to notice in whatever movie we watched, and so on. I saw all the classic horror flicks, along with lots of not-so-classic ones. A typical evening's fare would be Frankenstein, followed by House of Frankenstein. Or Them! followed by Tarantula. Usually there would be a thematic link between the two. The big goal when watching Creature Features was to stay awake to the end of the second feature, which would usually end at around two in the morning. Not always easy to do, but I tried. This show was the must-have-on-in-the-background for any sleepover or slumber party. By third grade, I was well versed in vampires, mad scientists, demons, and all things that go bump boom bang in the night.

One movie that caught my imagination was The Legend of Boggy Creek- a sort of documentary about a sort of Bigfoot that was sort of scary. But the idea of an unexplained beast roaming the land was beyond exhilarating to me. I remember, clear as a bell, discussing the film with my friend Noel during recess at Strawberry Park Elementary. There was no doubt in either of our minds that the beast existed- that was a given. I think the scene that both amused and terrified us the most was the one where the monster was trying to break into this one guy's house while he was sitting on the toilet. How many films are there that are educational, frightening, and hilarious? Truly, this was one for the ages- a film destined to be spoken of with reverence. All I wanted to do after watching that flick was get myself a movie camera and a van and get myself to Boggy Creek to investigate this thing. Being around nine, this wasn't plausible, so I had to content myself with research at the local branch of the public library- a small building nestled between an ancient barn that had been abandoned for as long as anyone could remember, and a peach orchard. It had that funky architecture style so common in the early 1970's- a hybrid of ugly and Frank Lloyd Wright. It also had a whole set of shelves with books dedicated to the paranormal. I remember reading most of The Mothman Prophecies there one afternoon. There were lots of other books, with photos of ghosts, UFO's, and the Loch Ness Monster. I loved them all.

And then there was a documentary on regular tv, hosted by Rod Serling. It was called Monsters! Mysteries or Myths? This was the first "serious" documentary about aliens, Bigfoot, and Nessie every shown on national tv. And it was a huge hit, and paved the way for such shows as In Search of..., which in turn led us to such fare as Monsterquest and, my current favorite, Finding Bigfoot.

I love Bigfoot. I love Sasquatch, Yeti, the Ohio Grassman. Whatever you want to call it. I love the unknown, the unexplained, and things from somewhere else. My latest script is a pilot for a tv series about an unlikely pair who investigate the great mysteries of America. What a shock.

I even made a mockumentary, highly inspired by Finding Bigfoot, while in Wisconsin. Here are the results. (my beautiful co-star is my wife Lisa)

 

 

But wait, there's more:

 

 



And that's about all I have to say about that.

For the moment.

MEANWHILE

So I'm waiting on things. Contests, projects, the proverbial ship to come in and all that. And while I do, the wheels of the world keep turning at great speed, as if all motion is perpetual, all moments continual, all threads connected somehow, in a way that I always understand in my dreams but can't quite remember when I wake up.

Guess Lennon was right- Life is what happens while you're making plans.

I got a reading of Riddle Lost coming up out in Salinas, California at the Western Stage- one of the many incubators of my artistic soul. I spent many summers there as an actor, working on some pretty amazing projects, including a nine hour, three part adaptation of East of Eden which was one of the seminal experiences of my life. It's run by Jon Selover, who I went to college and who taught me a lot about theatre.

Salinas is also where my first play, Last Call takes places.

The reading is part of 2x4 Bash, a project run by another old friend and fellow lunatic Mark Englehorn that also includes a reading of the play 8 by Dustin Lance Black- the guy who won the Oscar for writing Milk, and who was in a production of Peter Pan with me at Western Stage. So that's pretty friggin' sweet.

Riddle Lost is about a real life guy from the Old West named Jeff Riddle who's mother was a Modoc Indian and father was a settler and who lived through a really nasty war. It takes place in the after-life, and has a cast of characters that includes Norse death god Hel, a cigar store Indian named Ziggy, and Raven- the trickster god of the Pacific-Northwest. It's weird and funny and sad and I like to think kicks it in the ass. If you're near on Salinas on August 24, go check it out.

I'm also doing a lot of children's theatre this summer. A lot. Tomorrow I audition 52 kids for a musical I'm directing up in Boulder in July, and on Monday I start a production of Lightning Thief here in Denver. And while it may be tiring as all hell, it's also really invigorating to do theatre with young folks. They still understand the power of the imagination, and there isn't much they can't do.

On top of that, I am super close to finishing my first flick, Strong Tea. Like probably a week. Then I leap into the land of submitting to film festivals- where I will live for the next year.

And on top of all that, I have two other screenplays I'm figuring out.

I think I need to take the wife and drive up to the mountains and watch a river splash along for a few hours, sing to the trees, and search for Bigfoot.

FINDING BIGFOOT

I am a geek- always have been, always will be.  I love Star Wars, and Lord of the Rings, and played Dungeons & Dragons a lot in high school.  I read comic books at the book store- and I mean comic books, as opposed to graphic novels (which I also read).  I always check to see what's on Discovery, History, Science and such in the hopes that some paranormal show will be on.  Sometimes I call myself a nerdling- part nerd, part halfling, all geek.  I don't know why, I just know that it is so.

Of late, one of my favorite shows to watch is Finding Bigfoot, a sort of reality show that I think might secretly be the latest product from Christopher Guest, the genius who gave us Waiting for Guffman.  It just seems a little too weird, and the people a little...well, let's just say they strain credulity.

The show follows the adventures of a supposedly real life field team for BFRO- which stands for Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization.  There are four researchers on the team, and they go from town to town, investigating sightings of Sasquatch, aka Bigfoot, or as they like to call him on the show, Squatch- which sounds to me like something that happens to you after eating too much spicy food.  "Are you ok in there?"  "No, I got a bad case of Squatch".  "Well, light a match when you're done".

The team consists of Matt Moneymaker, who reminds me of Corky from Waiting for Guffman; Bobo Fay- a big stoner who may or may not be part Squatch himself; Cliff Barackman, another Squatch enthusiast with slightly better hair than Mr. Moneymaker; and Ranae Holland- the kind of butch skeptic who might secretly be Jane Lynch.

It's awesome.

I mean, you do get the eye witness reports of sightings of the big guy, the occasional video of something in the distance that may or may not be an ape man, and all that good stuff.  But the real fun is the crew- how they talk about themselves, each other, and all things Squatch.  There's something sweet, and also very silly, about the team- sometimes they take themselves way too seriously, and there's a lot of bickering- but underneath all are these goofy people who want to find something mysterious out there in the world that can take our breath away.  I like that.

And I do believe in Bigfoot, UFO's, and the Loch Ness Monster.  I even saw a pair of ghosts once, which I will write about in a future blog.

Please don't forget to check out my plays available online at Indie Theater Now:  Last Call; Muse of Fire; Burning the Old Man; Some Unfortunate Hour; and Fenway: Last of the Bohemians.

Now go find some Squatch!

iMcAllister- Chapter One

I McAllister. I write blog. Today first blog in life. I think I like. Don't really get why I is "i" these days, but what Hell? i go with flow. Talk like Sasquatch sometime. Great book, you should all read. Call something like "Bigfoot, i not dead".
Good news- i liberal commie and i think we win this November.
Why?
McCain-Palin are Bridge to Nowhere.
Serious.
Okay, now i will stop talking like that.
But this really is my first blog. Many more to come, i assure you.
i intend to write about whatever floats into my head each time i get in front of the computer. Sometimes, it'll be about politics and why i think the GOP is a cabal set on the destruction of civilization as we know it. Other times, it'll be about my life- like how my dog barks too much or how i always boil my coffee when i reheat it. Often, i'll be trying to use this blog to get word out about something going on that i want people to know about.
Like the fact the my play Burning the Old Man is going to be produced in Prague this April at the theatre Vaclav Havel did most of his plays at. It's already translated into Czech. Putovani S Urnou. That's the title in Czech. Prague is called the City of Magic, and is the capital of Bohemia, and is also where i got married. It's really beautiful, and i think you should go there. Say, April next year. And while there, go to the theatre. In fact, go to Divadlo na Zabradli.

So, I guess you can surmise I am a commie pinko leftist bleeding heart who is sort of ego-centric.
And yes, I do believe in Bigfoot, UFO's, and ghosts. Doesn't everybody?