Wish I had time to write a missive about San Francisco, but I am doing the Norma Desmond here at the Hotel Del Sol in the Marina District, a small former Travelodge that has been reborn and bathed in loud color, anchored by two palm trees decked in Xmas lights. I wish I was writing more, but I have out-researched myself while I prepare this new play for the Magic Theatre season. Today the housekeeper knocked on my door and I told her I was leaving for the day, so she waited for me to go. I was picking up my stuff to head to the library to do research and she just stared at me. She is a very sweet Chinese woman who confided, Front Desk say you famous writer. I laughed and she pointed at the half bottle of wine that was given to me when I arrived, evidence of my notoriety. I am hardly famous, you dont know me, do you? I shot back in my humble defense. She looked at me and said, Thats right, I said to them, he a nobody, I dont know him, who know him? He no movie star. We laughed and I turned towards the staircase as I licked my wounds. But truthfully, we survived the rain and there are worse things to get through than ones own ego. How about the rapid change in the class structure of this city? There are a lot less people of color in this town and as I was driving down Mission up to Bernal Heights, this is quickly becoming a city that very few can afford. But, its also still magic in so many ways, especially in the eccentric character of its people. But back to non-famous me, please God, let me finish a draft!
Posted on: Tue, 16 Dec 2014 06:18:15 +0000
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