What a life I’ve led. In no way has it been worthy of a Pulitzer, but it’s certainly worth mentioning, worth remembering. In my more melancholic, trance like states, I’ll do my best to keep this blog somewhat current. No promises though.
I believe that I am a prime, if not certain, candidate for Alzheimer’s disease. My memory is embarrassing. I now lead my life, day to day, in fear because I know how bad my memory can be. So with that in mind, please read on. These are the few eventful mentions that I can recall.
Everything that I’ve ever done in my life, which is worthy of a mention, has been the direct product of inspiration. Inspiration: A topic that I hope to discuss in detail at some point throughout this blog. So with no further delay, let’s go back to 2005.
November 21, 2005: Los Angeles
I moved to the Philippines. Calamba, Laguna to be specific. I was living in Studio City, California at the time. I had a business, a great house in the Studio City Hills and had become recently divorced. Being that it’s now 2011, I’ve had ample opportunity to reflect on my past. I’m 52 years old.
Jan 25, 2011 (today): Toronto
I received an email from a friend with a link to a restaurant. I don’t know if my friend was aware of exactly how much time I’d spent at this particular restaurant. Was it coincidental that he’d sent me this link or, was I typically spacing out and forgetting how well he knows me? ANyway, it propelled me to this . . .
1988: Los Angeles
The first house I had rented in California was in Hollywood, half way up Laurel Canyon Blvd. atop the Hollywood Hills. It wasn’t much, but the era was everything! My life had become everything that one in the entertainment industry could dream of: Hollywood, success, girls, celebrities, etc. etc. The house was provided for me by an unnamed record company. I was working on a record that was destined for epic success. I would come home late in the morning after driving around Los Angeles observing hookers on Hollywood Blvd. or driving through Compton or Inglewood (unknowingly) after my sessions around 6 AM. I could never sleep after a session ended, and didn’t know anyone well enough to “hang out” with, so I drove around Los Angeles instead. It was a great way to discover L.A.!
I was dating a wonderful girl that worked for a music publisher (whom I still am in contact with to this day) but she had a “day job” and wasn’t up for early morning rendezvous’. She was a virginal girl of 18 and I was a weathered 23 year old record producer. She’s now living in Spain somewhere and just had her first child. I’d written a song for her that was to appear as a 3rd single on that “Epic Success” of a record I mentioned earlier. (INSERT ASKING # 1 HERE) No one seems to care what you do after you leave a recording session at 2 AM. They assume, naturally, that you went home and crashed. I had an entire life that I led between the hours of 2 – 6 AM. After a few years, that amounts to a lot of time! No one familiar, was a part of that life. I cannot reminisce about it with anyone at all other than myself. It’s a private memory, but not by choice. It’s no secret. Well, let’s backtrack a bit. Maybe at the time it WAS a secret. My Father ( whom I deeply respect and appreciate) often asked me upon visiting L.A. “How the hell do you know this city as well as you do in such a short amount of time?” I didn’t provide him with the truth. I felt as though I was “weird”. After all, who drives around L.A. at 2 AM – 6AM “touring”?