Tag Archives: Panam

Imagination is my favorite form of memory

Tonight I went to  a support session held by the Colts (not the Indianapolis Colts who need Peyton Manning worse than I need skin to hold my organs inside my body) but Robert and MIchelle, coolest couple in town when they’re in town.  It’s good to be reminded of facades and illusions and other such background noise that keeps me held back in my career or a vastly all cell encompassing sex life. Here’s little phrases that came to mind during the seminar:
‘the storm before the calm’
‘genuflecting before the madness’
‘great jellybean mouth of the unknown’
…and this analogy of little habits left inside of me since birth and a little beyond I liken to rolling a grenade around on that rotating swiveling knife battle circle that Flash Gordon and the Baron fought in the 1980 camp masterpiece.  That’s my soul at times, chasing grenades that roll around and whisper lies to my flesh.  Still I am pleased where I am now and yearn for something special, something that requires rare footage on Earth; I’ve never been one much for compromise.    I’ve been offered it more than a few times over the years in love and career and something in me still presses.  At some point I would love to say I reached the peak. I know there will be Space Mountain to climb after reaching the top of Earth Mountain but I need to see a peak and I need to see some results now.  The preparation time is closing over the next three months or so and while it has been lonely and weird in ways, it’s made me stronger,  any horror of facing myself completely getting a little diminished by the day.  And getting larger too. To feel fertile and barren at the same time, to offer that to another person and know that they have their own terrain to handle.

Rocky Balboa put it best when Paulie asked him ‘What do you see in my sister?’
‘I don’t know, gaps.’
‘What’s gaps?’
‘She got gaps, I got gaps, together we fill gaps I don’t know.’  Brilliant.

I am working on a spec for PanAm in which the pilot, I think his name is Dean, is sucked through a popped window in the cockpit and then simultaneously being sucked into the engine #2 and his upper torso eaten by rabid genetically engineered pelicans.   The copilot and engineer are knocked unconscious when they clunk heads getting up at teh same time; EVAN DUQUESNE, a man of unique  and subtle handsome appeal for the true discerning eye (me!), a PanAm pilot and passenger on the flight, and Colette, the charming and naturally dynamically expressive French stewardess, land the plane together and also simultaneously make love and our amazing sexual chemistry actually helps to land the plane itself without landing gear.  After a couple minutes of mourning, I assume command of the 707 and Colette and I begin a long term relationship on the show involving mutual healing of our pasts as our natural multi-colored self awarenesses settle into each other perfectly and illuminate what is dark.  And then we have a three way with the plane itself. Fabulous material.  We also tango in black and white and sing a duet to passengers in first class (I do it over the intercom while she responds).  I can’t wait.