Seeking and gradually, gradually finding

I was not expecting to get sick during my tenure in San Diego. I don’t know, there’s something about warm weather that seems anathema to a cold. Colds are always equated with rain, snow, wind. I’m from Oregon where we have all that. Especially the rain. Foolishly I always think that warm weather begets health. Foolish me.

But I think I’m getting over it. My laryngitis is almost over (San Diegans are bemoaning that fact). I have more energy and don’t feel like sleeping constantly. Guess it was just rest that I needed. I slept thirteen hours last night. My body was obviously telling me something.

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My inner Southern Californian

I’m getting in touch with my inner Southern Californian. When I left Oregon for this trip, I was anxious about driving these freeways, especially with the behavior of some of the drivers. I remembered how rude they can be. I remembered how they are reluctant to let you into traffic or move over a lane. Yet occasionally someone would do so. “Probably a former Oregonian”, I reasoned.

I’ve been flabbergasted to see how the freeway system has changed down here. Today I was driving on the 15 (Escondido Freeway) in eastern San Diego County. I used to live in Escondido and moved thirty years ago this June to Huntington Beach. Thirty years ago the freeway was eight lanes. Now it is fourteen lanes in most places heading to San Diego and EIGHTEEN lanes in some spots. The traffic was moving fast and there were, of course, tons of cars.

Should I be crestfallen?

Well, I went to church today. A former member of my church in Salem, Oregon is starting a church in San Diego. I was anxious to see him so I took my friend, Isabella, with me to church and met some wonderful people. It was like being in Italy because we were getting invitations to people’s homes, dinners, etc. One delightful woman was from Austin, Texas and visiting her son in San Diego. Isabella and I now have an invitation to go to Austin, Texas.

This delightful lady opened my eyes WIDE to the reality of pushing my book in the entertainment industry. She has been intimately involved in such endeavors and has actually had success. She has contacts with editors, authors, etc.

Is this a bunch of crap? Responses coveted

Tonight I communicated with Monica Ingudam of Finding the Voices. She is the delightful young lady who is enthusiastically planning a worldwide podcast with me regarding my book and my adoption experience.

When she first contacted me, I was astonished. She had found my book on Goodreads and absolutely loved it. She contacted me and asked to interview me. I agreed, flattered.

But that’s not why I ask the question “Is this a bunch of crap?” As everyone knows, I’m in the San Diego area for five weeks with a hurting friend. While I’m here I’ve got a few prospects. The primary pursuit I have is the movie studios. And that’s why I ask the “crap” question.

Is this a pipe dream? Was the book a pipe dream? Is it ludicrous for me to go to the movie studios and stand outside like a dork handing out books? Hoping that water cooler discussions will follow resulting in some sort of interest.

I think about that. I think about this five week trip to California. I’m here for a reason, to help a friend. I made the decision to come down here. It wasn’t until a few days after that decision that I even considered doing anything more with the book down here. After I made the decision, I naturally had second thoughts. It seemed so ludicrous. Sometimes it still does. If I allow my mind to go there.

But it’s the same as this book thing. I made the decision to write this book. I made the decision to quit my job and promote this book with my limited resources and knowledge. Was it worth it? I think so. Was it a smart decision? Truthfully, I don’t know.

So now I’m looking at this big step, going to a fancy movie studio with executives who make hundred million dollar decisions. It’s a world shown on TV where champagne, limos and $500 lunches seem to be commonplace. I’m going to stand outside like the bum at the end of the movie “Big Business”. At least that’s what I’m going to feel like. Me, a regular Joe from Salem, Oregon. What have I got?

And it’s not like I’m expecting to be a star or famous. That’s not in the cards. I never would have considered this had I not had this opportunity to come to Southern California. This is impulsive. A pipe dream? I don’t know.

Why not take it this final step before I return to Oregon?

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained”. I believe in that. But I also feel that we can be completely out of touch. Yet, sometimes it takes being out of touch to really get somewhere.

So I say this to everyone reading this post. What are your thoughts on this? Should I pursue this totally crazy thing? Am I being stupid?

 

Ahhh

Ahhh, I’ve made it to Southern California. El Cajon, just east of San Diego, to be exact.

Truth be told, I’m not sure if I should be exhaling with a satisfied “ahhh”. The drive down here was nothing like I expected. I made great time and arrived much sooner than I expected. It was not the twenty hour trek I was expecting.

Southern California has changed so much since I moved here in 1982. I left in 1990 and have visited several times since. It has become so much more relentless since then. The pace of life has accelerated to a cancerous degree. I was driving through Los Angeles at 11:00 p.m. and the volume of traffic along with the speed was unnerving.

Stuff

So, I’ve moved out. Turned in the keys. Hired housecleaners to blitz the house. Now I’m ready to leave for San Diego tomorrow.

These last weeks have been very educational for me. I have spent considerable time discarding things, purging other things and selling yet others. I sold my record albums and my Matchbox cars. Sold my Tonka trucks. Even sold a bunch of teen magazines focusing on the Monkees from the sixties. Got rid of some other things, too. Made several hundred dollars.

It was weird. Watching the buyer take my Matchbox cars and my record albums was hard. I felt like I was selling my children. These were things I had kept for decades. I had kept them because they were a part of me. They held fond memories. It was like they were a touchstone for me. Reminders of simpler (happier?) time. A time when life wasn’t so rushed, so stressed, so…complicated. I held onto these items for so long because I couldn’t bear to part with them. To do so would have rendered me incapacitated. Or so I thought.