I write to you hunkered down at the needtheater's compound off of Santa Monica Boulevard. Outside someone is attacking a lawn with a very large and loud machine. Palm trees watch him from above. There's an orange tree in the back yard.
This must be the promised land.
Met the L.A. Fatboy cast and crew last night at an Indian restaurant in Los Feliz. Great bunch of people. Watching a run-through tonight and then tomorrow back to Rat City.
Ended up at the Dresden last night and stayed well into this morning, some kind of Los Angeles institution, watching Marty and Elaine do a jazz routine that a young Dean Martin wouldn't have blinked at. Hugely, earnestly retro and a lot of fun.
Out to the sunshine now.