Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Why Is This Man Smiling?


Mike Nichols, the director, had a read-thru of Charlie Wilson's War. A read-thru is where the cast sits at a large table and reads the script. And you wanted to be a fly on the wall. The cast is surreal. Tom Hanks, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Julia Roberts. There were emissaries at the gate flagging the celeb vehicles and ushering them to the location. The read thru was catered with fine food, not food from the lot. Large glass vases full of fresh flowers were brought in. There was a cappuccino cart with a server so friendly that I could have asked for a latte and gotten it. There was "foamy" soap in the bathrooms. It's possible I used Hanks foamy soap. I don't know. There wasn't a label specifying who's foamy soap it was but it was gone at the end of the day. I'd like to think it was Hanks foamy soap. I'd like to think I washed my hands with the foamy soap used by Hanks or Hoffman. Either way those guys are incredible actors. Incredible! I heard an extremely credible story that when Hanks did the film "Punchline" he hung out and studied with Seinfeld, Rock, and other comedians for six months. The story goes that, after studying, Hanks stand-up routine was as good as anyone out there. You gotta hand it to an actor with that much passion. (Maybe it's the foamy soap.)

There's a palpable BUZZ surrounding a film this size. Everybody is happy. Who wouldn't want to work on a Mike Nichols film? My office was in the proximity of the read-thru. (Near enough to use the same bathrooms) Here comes the Arron Sorkin part. The production company has a transportation trailer outside the stage. So when you step out onto the Paramount 'street' you have to be careful. I stepped out and was nearly clipped by Sorkin's golfcart. It wasn't Sorkin's fault. It was his assistant. (Those women golf cart drivers, what are you gonna do?) It was a very near miss. I googled "Golf Cart Accidents" and the results aren't pretty. Sorkin was on his cell phone, loudly, and saying something like this" Yeah, yeah, I changed those names. It's not Bimbo One and Bimbo Two" It was much better dialogue than that but I was dwelling on the end flashes of my life. You know, death by golfcart. He was pretty absorbed in the call. They say he's a genius writer. I say he talks loudly on the cell. Loud with articulate authority. Maybe he was late for the read-thru and ordered his assistant to step on it. I'm not saying it will affect how I feel about him one way or another. There's a lot of net buzz about Studio 60. I think I'll give it a TiVo. I know this story is kinda anticlimactic. It would really get some hits if I were dead. So I'll yak a little about Tom Hanks.

I met Hanks on Forrest Gump. We shot the breeze for a few minutes. He was as gentlemen as they get. Everybody says Hanks is a great guy. I thought so when I met him. At the read-thru I spoke to Hanks driver who was one cool dude. Charlie Wilson's War is part of Hanks production company. Maybe Hanks was paying for all the amenities. The driver said that Hanks brings a masseuse (or masseur according to the parlance of our times) in on a regular basis. And a reliable source (I really mean it) says that Hanks buys lotto tickets for the crew once a week. But with the stipulation that if you win you can't quit the movie. And I say, who would want to?

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Sunday, September 24, 2006

Elizabeth Hurley In A Hurry


At an independent production company in Beverly Hills there's an underground garage where the film execs park. I was working on a film. And that afternoon I had an alarm installed on my new car. About 5 pm I'm looking for the installer because he has my car keys. Only I'm parked in Elizabeth Hurley's unmarked spot. Now - I didn't park it there, the installer did. And he left my keys with security. Only I didn't know that either. So I'm in the parking garage looking for my car and its keys. I find the car. I admire it. Then a black SUV pulls up and stops. Elizabeth Hurley gets out of the car. She looks at my car. Without introduction she begins, "That's my spot!. You're in my spot!. Move your car that's my spot!" - this is going back a few years. Hugh Grant gets out of the car. Ms. H keeps her voice at level 7 or so. "That's my spot!" I looked at her and said "I need to find my keys and I'll move my car" But she was like a subway turnstile. Whatever I said didn't matter. "That's my spot!" Hugh stared at the ground as if nobody was there. She raised her voice a notch. "That's my spot" I kept trying to appease her but nothing short of my lifting the car out of her spot was going to do the trick. Finally something clicked. Like the quarter went through the vending slot and she said "Who let you park in my spot?" I told her that I didn't park in her spot, the alarm installer did. "You need to move your car that's my spot" It went on for a couple of minutes. Hugh never said a word. I kept trying to tell her that if I had my keys I'd move the car. Finally a security guard came along and brought my keys. I apologized to her. (because I was in her spot) She gave me a look as if to say I was wasting more of her time and that was that: My run in with Elizabeth Hurley. She was very good looking when she was angry.

Portnoy's Urban Dictionary for Bloggers

Add your definitions or Norm Crosby's to my list. I'm making these up as I go.

Blub - a cross between a blog and a club. a blog clique where you can post witticisms until your blue in the face but club membership will be denied anyway.

Blog Don't Tell - that's an annonymous blog like this one. And a reminder to write well.

Six Degrees of Bloggeration - the whole kevin bacon thing.

Blogment - a critical comment or an augmentation to your own previously incomprehensible comment.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Sunday - Get Linked with Mister Linky

I think this is pretty brilliant. I found it at Flip This Body What it does is create a link inside the comment box. So if you have absolutely nothing to say you can still leave your link. It's like a dog and a fire hydrant. Mark this spot!

Daddy, what's a meme? (I've been Tagged)

Great question hon. What is a MEME and how do you pronounce it? Let's start with pronunciation. Meme as in fleam (n. A sharp instrument used for opening veins, lancing gums, etc.; a kind of lancet.), or dream, beam, cream. According to Dawkins, who coined the phrase and didn't know about mneme, meme is short for mimeme (from Greek mimos, "mimic"). He wanted "a monosyllable word that sounds a bit like gene".

The puzzling definition from the AHD via Answers.Com

"A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another."

WTF, Is it me or do you find that explanation imponderable? "Daddy, what's WTF stand for?" Sweetie, stop reading over my shoulder.... Let's go to Meme Central
This is Ana Ivanovic. A good dream, meme, I said 'meme'. And great tennis player.

Okay enough on memetics. Let's talk briefly about links, linking and bloggers I like. My new favorite blog is Peg, as she is Why? Because she's a good writer with insight and humor - AND she's generous with her links. As are the other links under 'Blogs I Like, or Beg To Link Here' Today I got rid of some links because no matter how much I read and participated the fact is... they are cliquey. Clever, witty, cliquey. (You know who you are.) Nuff said.

Moving onto the meat of the post. I was tagged by Peg because she was tagged by Julie who was tagged by.... Well, it's six degrees of bloggeration.

The agreeable assignment begins.... Now.

1. One book that changed your life Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo Because it was the first book I stole from my dad's bookshelf and read under the covers when I was supposed to be sleeping.

2. One book that you've read more than once. David Copperfield There is no better first paragraph anywhere.

3. One book that you'd want on a desert island. Naturally this would be "The Inflatable Book" which has yet to be written. It's a doll AND a liferaft.

4. One book that made you laugh. Without Feathers Truly Chekhovian (the funny years) Stuff like "Last evening I had the uneasy feeling that some men were trying to break into my room to shampoo me."

5. One book that made you cry The Stone Boy This was written by Thich Nhat Hanh, an enlightened zen monk. The story of a young girl blinded by Agent Orange during the Vietnam war. It would make a great film. At one point I had the rights to it. Maybe I still do. You know how those Buddhists are.

6. One book that you wish you had written. Hard Boiled Wonderland And The End Of The World That or my unfinished novel. You cannot go wrong with Murakami. Brilliant. Surreal. His books are laced with heroin.

7. One book you wish had never been written. This will bring some hate mail but it was something from Camille Paglia. I can't remember the book but it so angered me that I tossed it.

8. One book that you are reading at the moment. Ginny Good Gerard Jones left the first comment on my blog. I only knew him from his website. Which means he was a stranger. Now we email once in a while. Ginny Jones is hysterical. I am loving this book and HOPE it gets made into a film. Gerard deserves some notice.

9. One book that you've been meaning to read. I keep trying to finish The Corrections The parents in that book are a replica of my inlaws. It's sad and tragically funny. My father in law IS Warren Schmidt.

10. Tag five others that you’d like to do this meme.
Will
Stacy
Keith
Shannon
Cullen

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Friday, September 22, 2006

Me and Jennifer Stills


Yep, she's the daughter of Stephen Stills. We wrote this song together and my pal Wade produced it. More people should hear Jen's voice.

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Wednesday, September 20, 2006

A Song For Bloggers (I Started A Blog)

When you find yourself commenting on your own posts - play this song. When your favorite bloggers won't return your email - play this song. When you feel like a wallflower at the blogger's dance - play this song.


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I found this Song on Modern Gameplay/Darla Records by Sprites

Gilby Clarke and Other Confessions


Confession: I've never seen Rockstar. I've never seen American Idol. I stopped listening to new recordings around June of 1972. (That's a slight exaggeration but mostly true.) About a month ago Howard Benson's wife asked me to submit a song for Chris Daughtry. Which I did, believe you me. (The record company passed) I think Monica Benson was sending me some love because it had been quite a stretch between paying gigs. Q U I T E. Another confession? I've never written lyrics. (I know, besides 'Show Don't Tell' you ought to know your audience. But how could I say no?) I've written music, but never lyrics. This was the rejected first verse. (Copy Right 2006)

Said the moth to the star, I found you.
Like a firefly in a jar, I let you go
Into my dreams of shadows and blue
While gypsies dance our love follows.

I don't know why these doors open and close but I am grateful. When you're awake nights on end worried about money that kind of thing really brightens your day. (Hence the donation link and Amazon Store) My bet is that Gilby and his wife Daniella used to worry about money. That was when they lived across the street from us in a two bedroom rented house where their side yard was an alley. When Daniella used to have a boatload of denim piled high on tables in her garage. We knew the Clarkes back then. It was after Guns and Roses and years before the empire of Frankie B.

Gilby had his bike, a truck and a GnR pinball machine in the living room. The den was his recording studio. (And when I say recording studio I'm talking about a rig an 18 year old kid might afford.) Back when Frankie, their sweet as pie daughter would play with our daughter. Back when Gilby would walk across the street, plug his guitar into my Pro Tools and lay down an awesome solo on a track I'd written. Bing-Bang could he play. Three takes and he's having a Home Made Meatball sandwich I made from the Raos Cook Book. Gilby's picture was on the front of The Guitar Center on Sunset Blvd and you'd think he was some cool looking Gas Station Attendant with nothing better to do but play his guitar in his spare time. He was THAT normal.

It wasn't long before Frankie B started to take off. And I mean take off. I've never seen anything like it. Daniella worked (and still does) non stop. She was the neighbor with the body that made the hood women uncomfortable. The story goes that she was a GnR groupie and the two fell in love. I'll never forget a Christmas Party she threw. Frankie B was partially off the ground. Gilby was still writing and playing in local blues clubs. They were still in that rented house. Now Christmas in California can be a lot like Christmas in Hawaii. The weather never changes. The Clarke house was loaded with kids and famous rockers and the rest of us. Around 7 pm a truck pulled up to the front of their house. Daniella had rented a snow machine. In ten minutes their front yard, full of snow, looked like a surreal postcard. All the kids from the party came outside and played like it was Connecticut. Snowballs flew and everybody had a terrific time.

By now maybe you're waiting for me to drop the other shoe and tell you how much they've changed. Guess what? They are still the same sweet as pie family, only living in a bigger house. A much bigger house. And by the way. That guitar in my daughter's hands . Gilby gave it to me in the days I knew him when.


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Sunday, September 17, 2006

Wanna Date My Lawyer?

Essentially it was a poetry reading at a Venice gallery that my lawyer, Virginie, asked me to attend. Virginie is everything you could hope for in a lawyer. She's smart, a tough negotiator, cares about human beings and animals, and she's Parisian hot. She writes lovely haunting poetry, owns a house where she keeps this very large black stallion and a donkey named Jacques. So what's the problem? She needs a man. I know this sounds Neanderthal but it's true. And as a man I scratch my Neanderthal head and wonder. 'How is it such a beautiful woman can't hook up?' And trust me I've seen men (and some women) swoon over her. Virginie says that she's so forceful a presence, only men who drink have the balls to approach her. So she's been with a couple of very nice but heavy drinkers. Well, that phase is over.

Skipping forward to the closing of the gallery. Around 11 pm I said goodbye to V and her friends. It was a very pleasant night. The Santa Anas were blowing. I had one shot of cheap vodka and a smoke before I went home. You know, it was a party. (I never drink and rarely leave the house) I sat on the edge of some planter and thought about all the beautiful women I had just seen and talked to. (More on them later) From a discreet distance I watched Virginie and her friends walk outside, heading for another party - you know how those French women like their evenings. Well, in that light V was so beautiful I actually prayed for her. 'Find her a lovely, sensitive yet strong man, would ya?' I felt like lighting a candle right then and there. So, if you're an answer to that prayer leave a comment and a link. I'll email her. As for her physical requirements - a tall (not too tall) facial haired musician/artist/writer who loves horses and maybe speaks French is a plus who exudes plenty of confidence without the help of Cuervo. And fyi - she likes hair. I mean men with hair also on their head. I think V is around 32 so you do the math. As far as a prototype I know she really goes for Josh Ritter

Alright back to the party - an hour earlier. I am not a big fan of poetry readings. It's not that I dislike poetry. I've read and listened to a bunch of poetry. My wife is a published poet. (and exceptionally good looking) I think if I heard Octavio Paz reading his work I could get into that. But that would have to have been before 1998. Better yet, Scarlett Johansson could read some moderately good poetry and I would love it. Before you slam me I'm referring to her voice. Although she's not unpleasant to watch. Whatever, I'm rambling. I don't much like going to parties. I cannot make small talk so I say what's on my mind or shut up. Hence the following.

There's yet another sultry babe friend of Virginie's at this party. She's a development exec. Around 30. Dark haired California girl with brains. The kinda girl I used to go for in my single days. Only now I realize what a HUGE mistake those women were. Or, had I a rewind button, last night's woman. Here's why. She tells me she wants to get married and settle down in, "like 2 years," she adds. Only she's dating her ex-boyfriend and some other guy simultaneously. Call me old fashioned but how does this woman focus on her love life? I asked her if these two guys knew about each other. She said no. I asked her if those two guys were also dating, perhaps four other women. She said she didn't want to know. I was about to tell her that I thought she might be juggling too much to figure out who and what she wanted but anoither women entered the conversation and I let it be. Which was good because I didn't have more than a news-byte of an argument until later.

And this would have been my argument. The thing is - I think it's important to face the pain of loneliness because it can morph into something powerful. Maybe you have to pass a certain age or relationship threshhold before taking May Sarton's advice. Years ago I took Sarton to heart. I went on a May Sarton binge. Spent many months happily alone. Traveling. Feeling the inner dude. Here is Sarton's beautiful book Journal Of A Solitude

Anyway I didn't get into an argument or dating discussion with the D-Girl with 2 boyfriends. I pitched Gerad Jones to her. I am really liking his book Ginny Good But I doubt she listened. Hollywood doesn't thrive on listening but that's another post.

I'm starting a Chris Rock film tomorrow. Rock falls under the heading of nice guys with talent. Can't say much due to all the confidentiality agreements. But I'm a lucky so and so.

Ps - Note to single dudes. Add poetry readings to laundromats, coffee bars and other opportunities.


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Saturday, September 16, 2006

You're The First Person To Complain

Yes, you are the first person to complain. No one else has mentioned it because its never happened before. Have you ever heard that response? How does that make you feel? It makes me want to own a gun or a hummer. Especially when I look them in the eye and they puntuate sentances with that closed lip smile which actually means "You're not gonna get a refund, a manager or any satisfaction whatsoever." And beyond that it means "You are the kind of individual we call a troublemaker." In other words and gestures "We do not like you and please don't make us say it again. May I help the next in line...."

I think the phrase may have originated at Microsoft Tech Support but I've heard it from disingenuous Front Desk Clerks to mildly annoying Food Servers. I've heard the Teamsters Local 666 (Food Servers, Hotel Workers, Air Line reservations), The FDA Drug Review Board, Almost Every Software Company, Car Dealerships, AT&T (Billing Department), World Alliance of Bed and Breakfast Owner Operators. Sprint, Nextel, Comcast, AOL (ever try canceling your membership?) And You Name It They've said "It never happened before!"

Seriously, am I exaggerating? During the 2004 Inlaw Xmas Holidays we stayed at The Glen Sanders And we were there almost a week. It was damn pleasant until a Friday night marriage party. From our room we could hear the band. (It sucked but played until 2am) Did I complain? No. Not until 3:30 am when the 25 drunks, six doors down the hall and up another floor, woke my kids for the second time. The next morning (if you could call it that) I complained to the polite-smiling hotel clerk. (Whom I wanted to knock out her contact lens) She said "No one has ever complained about the noise before." I told her I had. When I asked (because I didn't want to scream at her) she said, "The manager is not here." Later my wife wrote a letter to the owner. We didn't get an apology, a discount or, as we say in Yiddish, Bupkiss. Now if you have ever stayed at a chain like The Holiday Inn and the alarm goes off at some horrendous hour because house cleaning didn't turn it off the day before- guess what? Tell the front desk and they credit you a night. Just like that. You know why? Because they know it HAS happened before.

Here are some linked googled examples. Oh, you're the first to complain about it or this guy who was One Unhappy Dell Customer

And then there are these Google advanced search forum finds

I am sorry you did not like the room you stayed in and did not find the decor to your liking. The decor in this room is very similar to all our ensuite rooms and I am pleased to say that to my knowledge you are the first person to complain about this decor. As you know decor is a subjective matter so perhaps it was just not to your liking.

Ali made this comment, "There is so much negativity on this site and it's mostly people saying the same things." You know what, DJ? You are the first person to complain about the negativity but look at what your responses have been...I bet you don't count YOUR negativity when you talk about the overall negativity of the site do you? Do you think you're exempt? You're not. Nobody was even talking to you or about you and look at how negative your comments are. Uh huh. Right. Moving on....

Can you prove that? Over 80,000 people have read my post, I don't know how many followed it all, but I guess it's a fair amount. Since posting that thread, you are the first person to complain! Not everybody managed all of it, but NOBODY got their PC messed up! Now who is wrong?

Jun 8, 2006 I have had 2 significant problems with my TL (2005). Acura tells me that no one else has complained. I would like to verify that ??

Zippy said "Are these rules insulting? No one else has complained." Thats fine Zippy. That quote from you is good enough for me to leave the forum for good. Take care guys. Its been fun.

http://gercohen.wordpress.com/2006/08/12/hello-world/
That's Not Me, I look more like Richard Gere

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Clapton and The Guitar Center Part 3

In the afternoon 2 guys from the Guitar Center showed up with two Ramirez guitars. One announced himself as the store manager and the other - well - maybe he was there just in case someone was going to run off with the guitars. Paramount, like any major studio is like a prison. High walls, and security everywhere. There's no escaping the lot without 20 guards chasing after you. These days the studio lots are probably more difficult to enter than a military base.

Eric was recording on the main stage, so I asked the GC guys to hang in the producers booth. The room is large and may have been used for solos but mostly the orchestra contractor would sit on the phone juggling schedules. Or if things were going badly on a recording date the producer might have a meeting with the director. (Not so on the Clapton recordings.)

I walked out onto the main stage and told Clapton the GC guys were there with the guitars. He said he'd look at them on a break. Now this man Clapton loves the guitar. I don't think the word 'break' occurs to him as something he needs to do. When he was on break he would have a guitar in hand and be running a tune or blues riff or noodling away as only Clapton can do. At times you would find yourself in conversation with the director or producer and Clapton is 3 feet away - on his guitar picking for no one but himself. It's pretty odd carrying on a conversation while he's sitting there because... you realize you're talking over Clapton's playing.

So - on break - he meets the GC guys and starts playing the guitars. As it happens Christopher Guest comes to the stage because Clapton is a HUGE fan of Spinal Tap and he can quote from the film. And relate to it. And Chris Guest is an accomplished musician. (Plus one of my favorite film makers. ) Anyway the details of how he came to the session aren't important. The point is he was there. Guest is quiet but you sense there's the hum of a supercomputer taking everything in. He's stealth funny. He can, I'm told, imitate odd sounds.











Anyway while Clapton is deciding on which guitar to buy, Guest has reprised the role of Nigel Tufnel. Only he's very subtle about it. In fact I don't think the GC manager or his sidekick even recognized Guest - who as Nigel is now quizzing the GC manager about the Ramirez....It's history.... Is it true Segovia played this very guitar? Now most of us recognize Nigel Tufnel but the GC manager has no idea. After a minute or two of questions Guest (as Nigel) asks the GC manager if they can put a pickup and a tremolo bar on the Ramirez classical guitar.
"You know maybe drill a few holes in the face here. Mount the whammy bar. That would make a very nice guitar", says Nigel to the stunned GC manager.

It was an awesome moment for me.


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Elizabeth Hurley in a Hurry


At an independent production company in Beverly Hills there's an underground garage where the film execs park. I was working on a film. And that afternoon I had an alarm installed on my new car. About 5 pm I'm looking for the installer because he has my car keys. Only I'm parked in Elizabeth Hurley's unmarked spot. Now - I didn't park it there, the installer did. And he left my keys with security. Only I didn't know that either. So I'm in the parking garage looking for my car and its keys. I find the car. I admire it. Then a black SUV pulls up and stops. Elizabeth Hurley gets out of the car. She looks at my car. Without introduction she begins, "That's my spot!. You're in my spot!. Move your car that's my spot!" - this is going back a few years. Hugh Grant gets out of the car. Ms. H keeps her voice at level 7 or so. "That's my spot!" I looked at her and said "I need to find my keys and I'll move my car" But she was like a subway turnstile. Whatever I said didn't matter. "That's my spot!" Hugh stared at the ground as if nobody was there. She raised her voice a notch. "That's my spot" I kept trying to appease her but nothing short of my lifting the car out of her spot was going to do the trick. Finally something clicked. Like the quarter went through the vending slot and she said "Who let you park in my spot?" I told her that I didn't park in her spot, the alarm installer did. "You need to move your car that's my spot" It went on for a couple of minutes. Hugh never said a word. I kept trying to tell her that if I had my keys I'd move the car. Finally a security guard came along and brought my keys. I apologized to her. (because I was in her spot) She gave me a look as if to say I was wasting more of her time and that was that: My run in with Elizabeth Hurley. She was very good looking when she was angry.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Changing My Profile Photo - Opinions?


I came across this photo that my ( then) 5 year old daughter took. I call the photo "Hostage Barbie" I'm thinking it would make a nice profile. Any thoughts, other than I need to save up for her future therapist....

ps - If you borrow this photo link back here.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Indexed on Yahoo!









Wow, I've been obsessed with getting indexed on Google and here I am already indexd on Yahoo. What's the moral? Good things comes to those who obsess.

Monday, September 04, 2006

Clapton and The Guitar Center Part 2

After the GC store manager put me on hold I found myself getting righteously indignant - Son of a bitch, it's Clapton! You see, after a couple of weeks hanging with EC you grow to love and respect him. Besides the charisma, talent, and history there's something about him that radiates a - genuine calming effect on those who surround him. It's not that he walks around like the Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh




He just seems to live for the moment in a way I haven't seen other celebs act. It's hard to describe without sounding like idol worship, but that wasn't the case. There are people who can make you feel comfortable in such a way that it brings out your own best self. That's the closest I can come to what it was like to hang with him.

There are plenty of Hollywood agents and producers who have this talent of making you feel important while you are with them, but in the end you know that they were doing their manipulative thing to get the best work from you. (Try calling them after the film is done) Clapton was none of that. And that is why I became so indignant while on hold.

Okay so the manager gets back on the phone and said he got permission to take the two Ramirez guitars to Paramount. Duh. Only he wants to know "How is Clapton going to pay for them?"

Now I put the manager on hold. I tell my friend, who's working in the studio on the same project, "They want to know how he's gonna pay?"

My friend says "You can't ask Clapton that!"

I say "Well I'm not paying"

We both had a laugh over the ridiculousness of it all. I walk around to Clapton and, with some embarrassment, ask "Um, Eric. The Guitar Center wants to know how you'll pay for the guitars"

"Like all rockstars, with a credit card," He smiled.

To be continued....

Part 3