Happy T-Day!

A brisk run, writing, some phone calls to friends and family then off to the in-laws for chow and the Southern Cal game.

At some point this weekend, my darling wife and I will sit down to watch Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Starring Steve Martin and John Candy, this film is our Thanksgiving favorite. Released in 1987, "Planes" celebrates its 20th birthday. Next year, it can buy liquor.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Robots and Seniors

Oz didn't give nothing to the Tin Man, certainly not old peoples' medicine.

Strike Talks and Writing

WGA and Producer's Guild talks resume next Monday. Talent agents did a little back-channel negotiating and got things moving. We shall see.

Going from poi to Pai Gow poker, running partner Ernesto prepares for the Las Vegas Marathon now a mere two weeks away. This will be his first 26-miler since Honolulu last year.

Writing like a frenzied fellow on the second draft of my book, Dummy Fever.

An animated series I worked on this summer has begun airing. I haven't seen an episode yet, so I won't link. But the story editor told me most of the show's humor has been culled out to make way for a lengthy didactic message on proper behaviour for kids.

Just writing that caused me to slip into rem.

Writers Fight for Cyber Gold

Cutting writers in on internet revenue is a key component of the strike. The producers maintain they aren't making any money off the Web. Thanks to Little Miss Attila for this link showing what studio heads really think.

Another Blorthday

Number two, to be exact, since I started Write Enough. Somewhere I discovered a ranking system measuring blog traffic. I am the 59,000th most popular blog in the world.

From a practical standpoint, knowing my writing could be read by anywhere from 6 to 17 people a day does improve my prose.

Or at least compresses it.

Happy B-Day, USMC!

A happy belated 232nd birthday to the United States Marine Corps. Yesterday, in units all over the world, the oldest and youngest Marines cut a birthday cake (or whatever they could scrounge) in honor of the Corps. Also "well done" to all our veterans past and present.

Craig's List Strike Nuggets

A guy this morning offered to picket in exchange for an introduction to an agent. (I think the post has since been taken down.)

Then there's this fellow.

(The above post has been taken down. But it said: "I Am A Scab!" The author then described himself as an "amazing writer"ready to work now and that the strikers were all "has-beens." I think it was put up by Les Moonves.)

Big Darn Writer's Strike

Nikke Finke's sources say that if this dispute isn't settled by December, there could be six more months of strike-filled fun. Find out the latest at Deadline Hollywood Daily.

A friend of mine is an editor at Universal. His union local (I.A.T.S.E. or the International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees, Moving Picture Technicians, Artists and Allied Crafts [It goes on.]) has a no-strike clause in their contract. That means they can't walk out in sympathy. Nevertheless, he honks his horn and patiently endures the strikers' "slow walk" in front of his car as he leaves work.

Oddly enough, I also belong to I.A.T.S.E. and would hazard a guess that animation writing falls under the heading of "allied crafts." Long ago, they represented animation artists when artists and directors worked out the action on storyboards. There were a few "gag writers" such as Michael Maltese who came up with story ideas, but for a 6-minute theatrical short, you didn't need a script.

By the time I started full-time at Warner Bros. (1992), there were 65 half-hours to produce and the clock was ticking. Writers wrote scripts that were story boarded, inked, painted and animated. But we remained in I.A.T.S.E. In the mid-90s there was a push by the Writer's Guild to represent us. But our I.A.T.S.E. local must first release us from their jurisdiction. At a meeting I attended, a local official stated the national union wasn't interested in letting us join WGA. Furthermore, the local would side with the studios if that were necessary to block our transfer.

Some union. But they had pretty good health coverage that my wife and I dearly miss. Health coverage is based on the amount of hours you work on union jobs in a six month period. Alas, I haven't worked many. Over the last few years I've burned through my COBRA and now pay a hefty fee for mediocre coverage.

In any case, I don't know what happened between WGA and I.A.T.S.E., but, as I mentioned earlier, it's nice to be remembered.

Strike News

Nikki Finke from the front lines.

Today We Have . . .

Rogue Endurance Club

Toward the end of a marathon, you'll often see runners shuffling along, hunched over like the letter "c." Their core muscles (abdominal, lower back, butt, hips and pelvis) lack strength. Unable to stay upright, they grow tired and slower with every step. My former coach, Jimmy Freeman, runner and all-around shy fellow, will be conducting core strength and stabilization classes. This six-week series starts Tue. Nov. 13 on the Westside and soon after that in Pasadena. Click here for more info.

A spectator at yesterday's Olympic Trials, Jimmy has posted a few comments and photos.

Ryan Shay Dead

During the Men's Marathon Olympic trials yesterday in New York, 28-year-old runner Ryan Shay collapsed and died shortly after the start of the race. Recently married, Shay's death was a hard pill for elite marathoners to swallow. He was friends with race winner Ryan Hall, who set a new Olympic qualifiying record. Hall covered the 26.2 mile distance in 2 hours, nine minutes and two seconds.

Hall, along with second and third-place finishers Dathan Ritzenheim and Brain Sell, will represent the U.S. in the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing. Congrats to our marathon team, but it's indeed bittersweet.

Strike

Details of the Writer's Guild strike will be announced today. Nikki Finke has a good round-up of the issues dividing writers and studios. DVDs, blogs, MySpace pages and other forms of new media occupy center stage.

Of lessor note, the Guild wants to represent writers currently working in the fields of reality TV as well as animation — me. That would be cool, since most TV animation doesn't pay residuals. But it sounds like one of those things you include in a deal in order to throw out so you can show you're being reasonable.

Nevertheless, it's nice to be remembered.

Good luck, writers!

Happy Halloween!

A fine holiday, despite the fact that we haven't had a child ring our doorbell in 11 years. (Our local hills are steep.) But that doesn't stop my wife and I from buying treats and eating them all up. In fact, at this point, we would resent trick-or-treaters. Greedy little goblins!

Nova Marathon News

That Nova marathon special airs in Los Angeles at 8:00 PM. (Channel 3 on Charter Cable.)

Afoot at the Finish Line

Here's me hoofing it home at the frozen Phoenix Marathon back in January.

Over the last several miles, the course passes through a neighborhood that deftly blends desert scrub with industrial wasteland. You can rest your weary eyes on a huge power plant, highway bridges, and sharp plants. Very few people cheer in these parts. However, fewer distractions allow more time to focus on physical and metal discomfort.

Fortunately, Ironman Kate Martini ran me in the last 6.2 miles. She didn't tolerate loafing and knocked five minutes off my finish time by pulling me along in her wake.

Note the cap turned youthfully backwards. I did that around mile 25 and can't remember why. (It's not as if I were racing so fast my hat was about to flutter off.) In any case, no one should be held responsible for their actions in the last stages of a marathon.

Within reason, of course.

Pinky and The Brain and F5s

Ten years ago, I wrote a Pinky and the Brain episode called Brain Storm. Our intrepid mice decide to conquer the world via tornado power. To this end, Brain builds a clunky robotic device called a Verkimer Suit. Inside the suit, Pinky and the Brain allow a cyclone funnel to pass over them, hijacking the storm from within.

Last night, I caught Storm Chasers on the Discovery Channel. In addition to pursuing puffy clouds all over Tornado Alley, these chasers added an IMAX cameraman in his own vehicle known as a T.I.V., or Tornado Intercept Vehicle. Weighing 14,000 pounds, this mini-tank is designed to be overrun by a twister so the cameraman may obtain 70mm footage of tornado innards.

Watch a video here.

I should've copyrighted the Verkimer Suit.

Marathon on PBS

Next week Nova airs a show about ten novice runners, trained for nine months to complete the 2007 Boston Marathon. For most marathoners, Boston is a destination, something earned, reached only through a qualifying race. (For my age group, that's a 3 hour 45 minute marathon. Am I anywhere near that? BWAHAHAHAHAH.) In any case, a most odd — and hilly — selection for untried runners.

I'll be watching with a sympathetic heart next Tuesday, Oct. 30. Training for a marathon, let alone running one, is a test on many levels. Go rookies!

"Clear and Smoky"

The above paradox appears courtesy of Weather Underground. Yesterday was particularly unclear and smoky. The Santa Clarita fires made our local mountains appear to be harboring a volcano. Ash fell on cars and the sun gleemed a brilliant red.

Today, fire conditions were such that the local high school cross country team moved into my health club en masse, grabbing all the ellipticals and tredmills. I guess outdoor practice was cancelled. I wonder what happened to their gym?

Lessons Learned

As my IT heals and I'm running again, what nuggets did I glean from this last marathon training cycle?

1. Don't Skip Stretching.
As miles piled up in spring, I fell out of the habit of fully stretching after runs. A torn calf muscle resulted.

2. Accept What You Have
When I resumed running after eight weeks, my mind recalled a faster pace than my post-injury body could provide. This led to unrealistic long runs, that eventually burned me out.

3. Pick A Plan, Any Training Plan
There's all kinds of ways to tackle marathons and I tried every one. With 12 weeks to prepare for Chicago, I juggled the FIRST plan with old Team in Training routines. Choose one and commit.

4. Lift Weights
After tearing my calf muscle, I stopped lifting weights and never resumed. I felt the lack of strength on my long runs. Coupled with bad pacing and summer heat, this led to several miserable outings. Weight training really pays off beyond mile 20. (And strengthens the IT band.)

5. Don't Practice Quitting
Often I adopt an all-or-nothing attitude. Thus, if I miss a goal, I quit rather than modify my run. A few times I knew I couldn't maintain a certain pace. So I cut the run short, thus acquiring the habit of quitting. This ties in with No. 2 and No. 6 below.

6. Build Your Mental Muscles
Visualizations, mantras, counting steps and other mental tricks help you triumph over negativity and the "can'ts." But they should be integrated throughout the training cycle.

Now on to the next marathon and brand new errors.

Jimmy Dean Freeman Qualifies for Western States

Jimmy Dean Freeman, coach, distance runner, racounteur, holds up an inspirational sign addressed to himself. I'd do stranger things if I just ran 50.9 miles in 8 hours 9 minutes and 39 seconds. (That's a marathon, followed by another marathon.) Those results qualify Jimmy to run twice that far over tough, inaccesible terrain in the 2008 Western States 100.

Last month, his attempted qualification for Western States resulted in failure. Running the Angeles Crest 100, he was forced to drop out because of injury. Disappointed, Jimmy Dean persevered and yesterday, up in San Francisco, achieved his goal. As Confucius once said:

The gem cannot be polished without friction, nor man perfected without trials.

He also said that anyone who bought him a shot and a beer was wise, but that's another saying.

Giving Back

During autumn, when pigskins fill the air, it's important to remember that not every professional football player is in the game for himself.

So long, Paulette Oates

Had lunch today with Tom Ruegger. As we bemoaned the current state of TV animation, he mentioned Paulette Oates had died. Paulette was the "supply sarge" at Warner TV Animation back in its prime. If you needed post-its or your office moved to another floor, call Paulette. She was one of the first employees brought in as the division staffed up for Tiny Toons. Paulette managed office operations in Sherman Oaks from the late 80s through the booming 90s into the spiral-down OOs. I'd often run into her outside the front door where we'd have a smoke and discuss our mutual love for Las Vegas and games of chance.

In recent years, Paulette successfully battled lung cancer. But as the TV animation division atrophied, she was laid off this summer, dying shortly thereafter from a heart attack. And while the division won a pile of Emmys then zero, Paulette continued on through the years, doing a host of vital unsung chores very well.

Rest peacefully, Paulette. What with bingo in churches, there's a good chance you'll find blackjack in Heaven. All the best. Don't split 10s.

IT Band

You can't download music from the iliotibial band. This hardy group of fibers runs along the outside of your thigh. My right IT band has been sore since September and felt tender during the marathon. This Monday I ran an EZ 3 miles and my IT has ached ever since. Ice, elevation and aspirin are my lot as this newest of injuries joins such illustrious company as broken foot and torn calf muscle. But now is my marathon recovery period, so injuries, if not welcome, are at least tolerated for their thoughtful timing. I've uploaded a picture my cousin Mary Ann took at the Health and Fitness Expo. This shows me running more than I actually do during the marathon.

Chi Marathon Post Script

Some final Chicago thoughts. Amber mentions encountering marathoners who weren't allowed to finish. Re-routed back to Grant Park, many ran through the finish line out onto the course, then back again in order to get a finish line photo. As runners were still crossing the mat from the other direction, this might compare to driving your car up an exit ramp onto the freeway. Getting gyped out of a race is tough. But hazarding other runners for a picture is boorish.

My former TNT coach, Jimmy Freeman, suggested lawyers advised the race director to blame runners for water shortages as any hint of culpability would result in a lawsuit tsumani. Sad but probably true.

Still, it leaves him sounding cheap and mean.

Walked 3 miles on Saturday, while Ernesto ran 14 in preparation for December's Las Vegas Marathon. I met him at various points along our course with water and power bars. Meantime, I encountered many current Team in Training chums. As it happened, I'd brought my Chicago medal and a fine array of catastrophe stories.

Congrats to running partner Melissa for finishing today's Long Beach Marathon. Melissa brought it home in 4:48. There was a time in early spring when we hoped to break 4 hours this fall at our respective races. But, as a wise marathon runner once said, it's a victory just making it to the start line.

Chicago Marathon Snippets

Around Mile 7, a race volunteer waved a red flag. Having just seen one at Disneyland, I recognized the flag as a heat warning. However, since I'd already run seven miles through Sauna City, I felt the warning was moot.

Incidentally, that Disneyland post needs updating. Chicago is now the hottest race I've ever run.

When water cups were available, they were often half-empty. (In this matter, I'm a pessimist.) As the race wore on, Gatorade was served piping hot.

There was a single sponge station somewhere in the 20-mile range.

A bank around Jackson Street showed the temperature at 90 degrees.

As mentioned below, confusion spread after the "race closed" announcement. Cops, firemen and race officials yelled, "walk." Months of training hollered, "run if you can." I believe the term for that is cognitive dissonance.

Rumors spread that the timing mats were turned off.

One race offical yelled that running to the finish line still wouldn't get you a medal.

Chicago hopes to host the 2016 Summer Olympics.

When I left for LA on Tuesday morning, the temperature was 58 degrees.

(Photo credit: MSNBC.)

Sweat Home Chicago

Marathon number three continued my tradition of only running marathons with temperature extremes. At dawn it was an overcast, humid 75 degrees and climbing. My niece dropped me off near the lake-front start line around 7:00 AM. I checked my gear, loosened up with T'ai Chi, then stood in a tightly-packed brick of humanity waiting for the 8:00 gun. As the overcast dissolved into popcorn-shaped clouds, the sun rose above Lake Michigan. It felt like a furnace door opening.

Because of crowd size, it took me 20 minutes to cross the mat.

Interesting Stat:

The Chicago Marathon sold out all 45,000 spots back in April.

But only 35,867 passed the start line Sunday morning. That means 9,133 people figured out it was too stinking hot to run.

Lots of TNT runners from Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, New York City and even Louisiana.

The field was so packed it was tough to interval. Those who intervaled clashed with those who viewed the far right of the course as a passing lane. My goal was a 4 hour and 40 minute marathon. I aimed to interval four minutes running/ and one walking up to the half-marathon mark, then see how I felt.

Leaving Grant Park, the course turned onto LaSalle Street just past Mile 2 and headed north. No water at the first stop — they'd run out. There was a mob around the folding tables, shaking gallon water jugs to get the last drops. The surrounding street was littered with flattened Gatorade and Hinkley water cups from the preceding runners. (Wet, flat plastic cups are like ice. You had to watch your footing.) People were highly pissed — especially those without water belts. (I'd brought mine.) One runner had a bottle of Gatorade. He took a sip, passed it back to me. I took a sip and passed it on to another runner. This no-water business boded ill.

Running for several miles on LaSalle, you'd get an occasional breeze through the tall buildings. I'd take off my visor and savor the cool air. Then out into Lincoln Park where the water stations remained a problem. Runners were surging across the street to the first one they saw. Sometimes there was only Gatorade. Other times, volunteers couldn't keep up with demand and runners served themsevles. Whenever possible, I grabbed two cups, drinking one and dumping the other over my head. (In today's Chicago Tribune, the race director blamed runners for the water shortages, citing those who took two cups.)

Around mile eight, I saw an old white-haired runner drift off course and ask a spectator if he could sit in his lawn chair. (The guy helped him down.) By now, sirens whooped all over the city as ambulances rushed the first heat casualties to the hospital.

The heat was getting to me. For the moment, I slowed but kept the same interval. But as we turned west onto Adams, the shade disappeared. No tall buildings, no leafy tree-lined streets with brick apartments. I passed a medical tent and it was full: runners on cots and others holding ice bags to their heads. Past the half-way point, I started tossing out goals like a passenger on a sinking boat dumping freight. Dropping to a 3:1 run/walk, I slowed pace even more. After frying my brain in Honolulu two years ago, I listened to my body and if it said walk more, I did.

We doubled-back east on Jackson and finally found a little shade. Turning south on Halsted to mile 17, I was mostly walking. I'd pick a point and run to it, or run half a mile, or choose a runner going about my speed and tag along. I took another salt tablet, but skipped goo as it made me retch.

Somewhere around mile 18, the cops bull-horned that the race had been cancelled. No finishing times would be official. Please walk. There was a great deal of confusion. By now, the city had opened up fire hydrants and fire trucks stood at certain intersections hosing down the crowd. (Not to mention ordinary Chicago citizens with garden hoses doing the same.) Finally, in the Mexican neighborhood of Pilsen, around mile 19 it sunk into the vast majority of runners that the 2007 Chicago Marathon was toast — just like them. Some runners dropped out at the nearest medical tent where they'd be bussed back to the start line. Some ran on. A nasty rumor surfaced that we wouldn't get medals. This put me into a black mood.

Come what may, I was determined to finish. Because my legs hurt, I ran 1:1 off and on to around mile 22, then walked to mile 26. Along with many others, I ran the final .02 because there were cameras present. 24,933 runners crossed the finish line.

And they did give out medals.

I finished in 5 hours, 48 minutes and 23 seconds. Check the Comments of my previous post where Jeff Carroll has listed my unofficial splits.

One man died and over 300 were hospitalized for heat injuries.

The people lining the route were great. Many offered water or ice cubes, staying on to cheer in the heat long after the race was called.

As for the "other" race — the front end of the marathon where people actually had a chance to win — Kenyan Patrick Ivuti beat Moroccan Jaouad Gharib by .05 of a second. (2:11:11) The top woman's finisher, Ethiopian Berhane Adere edged Roumanian Adriana Pertea in the homstretch. Pertea thought she had the race knocked, and eased off, waving to the crowd as she neared the finish. Adere poured on the coal to catch and pass Pertea for the win. (2:33:49.)

Given my injuries since April, I couldn't think of a better race to cancel. But if I'd been a TNTer who'd fund-raised and trained for this moment, or a runner eager to pr, I'd be supremely miffed at Sunday's outcome. For over a week, I'd been tracking the temperature. I knew it would be hot and humid. Hence, the race organizers did also. I find it hard to believe they couldn't increase the amount of water stations, change the start time to earlier, or better prepare for the heat onslaught they knew was coming. The Honolulu Marathon faces these conditions every year. No one could pick up a phone?

In any case: mission accomplished. After 30 years, I finally finished the Chicago Marathon.

Thanks to Ryan, Raul, Jeff and K for the emails. I'm walking around fine after sleeping eleven hours last night.

As for now, I'm not looking at any marathons before next fall in Pasadena. But don't tell anyone I'm entering.

They'll kick me out to avoid extreme weather.

(All photos courtesy of the Chicago Tribune.)

Chicago Marathon Bound

I am excited after all. I leave early this morning for Chicago. Thirty years have passed and I'm finally going to complete the Chicago Marathon. Yes, I won't PR. Yes, it will be hot and humid. Yes, I have a minor injury in my right glute. But I'm gonna have a great old time on a nice, flat course with lots of cheering people.

My cousin Mary Ann is putting me up for two nights. Then it's off to a motel for race prep and recovery, then one more day visiting sundry friends and relatives.

I'll try and post after the race.

See ya!

Something to Ponder

So here I am over at the Disney Channel, looking for work. They have monitors in the wating area running Disney programs. Suddenly, a shocking, familiar sight: Pinky and the Brain! It seems Disney's Jetix channel leased a block of the old Warner Bros. animation library. Returning to TV this Sunday will be Batman, Superman, and, on Monday, Pinky and the Brain.

An episode I wrote, "Brainania," airs Friday evening, Oct. 5. (Check your local listings, as they say. ) P&B attempt to take over the world using the power of static cling, generated by a colossal clothes dryer. "Brainania" was part of the WB's short-lived, P&B prime-time show, produced by Peter Hastings and Rusty Mills. Our indefatigable mice were slotted head-to-head with 60 Minutes, a Sunday-night ratings monster in 1995.

And that was that.

But 12 years later, 60 Minutes ails, the WB has perished and Pinky and the Brain live on.

Or, as the Brain might say, "HA!" (He always played a long game.)


P&B airs on Disney's Jetix, beginning Oct. 1. Check out episodes and show times here.

Fat Bat in the Great Northwest

Gliding through the night, we see a plump bat. My sister sent me this photo, so it could be Washington state. Wherever it is, they sure have chubby bats.

Rain

Lots of it last night. With the Rose Bowl closed to the running public for a football game, Ernesto and I met at a park near JPL. The trails were strewn with run-off rocks and deep puddles; soil loose and damp; temperature lingering around 58. Despite more rain and wet shoes, it was great running weather.

My hip is still sore from Thursday. (I did my long run then — 13.3 miles.) Absolutely wasted; no drive; I've already peaked for Chicago. Injuries and illness have taken their toll. My goal now is to finish, hopefully under five hours. March was too early to begin training for an October event. Unlike last January when Phoenix couldn't come soon enough, I simply want this marathon to be over.

Working on the first five chapters of Dummy Fever. Frequent outlining develops the habit of telling instead of showing the action. I'm having to redevelop certain writing muscles.

Selling fever continues in a lower key. For bigger items such as DVDs, I'm checking out asking prices on eBay and craig's list. It'll give me an idea on how to price things.

Lots of change everywhere, especially under the sofa cushions.

DVDs Away!

Away, away, Casino, away Apocalypse Now, away to the web resale house! This selling of things is contagious. I've barely scratched the surface on markets for my books, CDs, and VHS tapes. Plus there's costly electronic equipment to unload. Away, away with it all!

Cold Call

On a beautiful day for running, I set out to log 21.6 miles. Alas, I dropped out at 15. I've been fighting a cold all week and halfway up to the Elmer Smith Bridge felt woozy, ready to pass out. (Of course, having my nostrils clogged didn't help.) This would've been my last big mileage before the marathon. Maybe if I rest up and get over this bug, I'll squeeze in one more long run.

Talked to my agent re. Dummy Fever. She likes the outline and wants me to write up a few chapters. That shouldn't be too hard since the story's been marinating in my fine Irish head since May.

Selling Old Dreams

Yes, I've sold a book! In fact, I've sold four books: two on film lighting, one on fillmmaking, and one on defensive football. I also set up a consignment sale for a pair of Alesis MI Active Biamplified reference monitors — a fancy term for speakers used in sound editing. They're a leftover from the days when I had tons of money and thought I'd make my own digital films for a living. Ah, but the real gold lies in cyberspace — at least until I run out of possessions to sell.

Game Day

Runner parking scuttled at the Rose Bowl this AM in order to make room for tailgaters. And they were there, too, in their RVs at 7:00 AM for a 3:30 PM game. (UCLA vs. BYU.)

Ernesto hurt his calf muscle Thursday and rested. So I ran 16.2 miles. Wearing my Disneyland Half Marathon tee-shirt proved a real conversation starter. It seemed half the runners I met, including non-TNT chums, had been at the race Monday and had a story to tell about the stinking heat. I mentioned seeing runners sitting down on every available curb space because it was too hot to warm up. They looked like forlorn passengers waiting for a train in Bangkok.

Took an ice bath after today's run —fifteen minutes in a cold tub with several pounds of ice cubes rattling around. Climbing out, my legs felt like frozen drumsticks. But, ah, the blood does return, speeding up the healing.

Finally got my lap top back this week. The techs weren't 100% sure what was wrong. I told them to swap out the hard drive and transfer all the data. That worked just dandy and I can now survey my dwindling fiances with the flick of a button.

Happiest Race on Earth

At least that's what it said on my finisher's medal. And what a medal! But I'm getting ahead. The Disneyland Half Marathon was the second hottest race I've ever run. (2005 Honolulu Marathon was first, but not by much.) It was muggy at 4:30 AM and only got stickier as dawn approached.

A quick digression: I believe the afterlife may well be modeled after Disneyland. They certainly know how to move large numbers of people quickly and efficiently.

Back at the race, many runners entered the spirt of the event and wore mouse ears or Minnie Mouse outfits. A lone Japanese guy wore a hat with faux flowers growing out of the crown. During the race, many runners took the opportunity to stop and have photos taken with Alice in Wonderland, the Mad Hatter, and some giant thing from Monsters. (The one that was voiced by John Goodman.)

In any case, the temperature was high enough that the park issued a red flag warning. Interesting choice on Labor Day. Apparantly, communists would shoot runners who finished ahead of anyone in a lower economic class.

Red would be followed by the most extreme temperature warning — a black flag. Not only would it be blazing hot, but anarchists would hurl bombs into the crowd as well as assassinate selected elite runners. Once the race was destabilized, they could introduce autonomous trade unions and a runners' collective, using strikes to compel the race director to step down and allow the development of spontaneous running events without formal organization.

But that would also mean no big, fat finisher medals shaped like the Magic Kingdom.

Happy Labor Day!

Disney Half Marathon, and Risky Ventures

A day off today: from a long morning run, that is. And like most off days, filled with activity. I drove down to Anaheim early this morning and picked up my race number for Monday's Disneyland half-marathon. Then I dropped off my powerbook again to have a new hard drive installed. Gassed the car and now am preparing to write all day on Dummy Fever while awaiting word on where to meet wife and in-laws for dinner.

Ernesto is in New York for a friend's wedding. Next Saturday he'll run 12 and I'll do a mere 16.

Already a hundred degrees and it's not even noon. I'm fortunate not to be running today.

Another fortunate man was Risky Ventures. You can read about his luck at Products of a Diseased Mind. Then scroll down to absorb the cautionary tale of "Roscoe: The Sensible Sniper."

19.3 Mile Run, Going Broke, and King Kong

19.3 was Saturday's long run. (An odd number of miles, but satisfying nonetheless.) It included three laps around the Rose Bowl (9.3 miles) and a run up to the Elmer Smith Bridge (10 miles round-trip). Ernesto ran the Elmer circuit, then met me at various scenic spots with an ice cooler. As the temperature was in the balmy 70s, I finished on pace and feeling good.

Speaking of running, I'm running out of money. While my darling wife has gotten more work, the medium-sized dollars that sustain us are drying up. Two more checks coming in, but nothing lined up after that. A tense time, but opportunities have a way of appearing. I need to avoid getting so negative and filled with self pity that I fail to see them.

Tomorrow I learn the fate of my hard drive.

Finished the second draft outline for Dummy Fever. I'll polish it up this week and send it in to my agent.

I tried watching Peter Jackson's King Kong Friday night. Beautiful CG backgrounds, nice score but the story was so overwritten, filled with bloated, easily-cut moments, that I lost all interest and turned on Modern Marvels. Of the two major remakes— Jackson's and the 1976 laugher — there was a tendency to remove "the beast" from this Beauty and the Beast tale. The original Kong had sympathetic moments, but also killed people in horrible, unprovoked ways. You never forgot he was a big animal. Plus the 1933 film moved like lighting. Once Fay Wray was kidnapped, the story hit the gas and never slowed 'til "twas beauty killed the beast."

Thus endth my thoughts on giant monkey movies.