The L.A. Dime

I landed in KY three hours ago, and when I exited the terminal, I was reacquainted with cold.  I’m not talking L.A. when it’s 50 and everybody’s saying “God, it’s freezing out here” cold.  I’m talking snot-freezing, cuts-through-a-good-pair-of-jeans-in-three-seconds, cold.  So much for the “winter” running clothes I brought with me.  No way.  Blood’s gotten too thin.  I’m on a treadmill hunt.

Speaking of running, the Racin’ Eights and I completed another 20-miler on Saturday.   Two weeks ago, when we did our first 20, there was overwhelming will-power and determination to finish the run despite strong winds and record-cold temps on the coast (high of 45).    This time I encountered the been-there-done-that syndrome, was maybe a little too overconfident, didn’t prepare well enough, and consequently endured what was, no-doubt, the single hardest exercise-related event I can ever remember experiencing in my entire life.  I was hurting seven miles into the run.  But I made it.  As far as I know, we all did.   And now there’s only a 22 miler and the race itself left to survive.  Check out my Dash For Dimes page to help me raise money for March of Dimes as I run on March 4.

After the run, Tina and I were privileged to attend the wedding of our friends, Mike and Nitu, in Laguna Beach.  It was a beautiful two-part wedding (Christian and Hindu) on a gorgeous balcony overlooking the ocean at sunset.  Dinner was exquisite, as was the company. 
Surf and Sand Resort receives 5 gleaming stars from the Dime.

I’ll be in Kentucky this week teaching a screenwriting class at the Bluegrass Community and Technical College (BCTC) in Lexington.  The class is part of a sixteen-week certificate program sponsored in part by The Kentucky Film Lab.  www.kyfilmlab.com. 

Despite the fact that they finished 8-8 this year, many writers and sports broadcasters are declaring the Bengals losers again, because, with the recent arrest of Jonathan Joseph, the team now has more criminals on the roster than it does total wins — nine. Here’s my theory:

With a quickly developing offense, a new stadium, and a fresh, first-time coach, the Bengals were tired of losing and were ready to win immediately — so they took some risks. Superiorly talented athletes coming out of college often plummet on draft day due to “character issues” or “baggage.” Previous problems with the law and difficulty dealing with authority are just two examples. So, the Bengals, eager to win now, see these fabulous athletes drop to draft positions where they wouldn’t normally fall if they were “good guys,” and snatch them up. They figure Marvin Lewis, known as a “Player’s Coach,” can keep them in line off the field as they make an immediate impact on it. People thought the same thing about Randy Moss and Denny Green, and that didn’t work out so well did it?

But here’s the question — do we care? Do we care if Chris Henry carries a gun, so long as he breaks free for 60 yard touchdowns on Sunday? Do we care if Jonathan Joseph smokes dope, so long as he makes interceptions and bats down balls? As Bengal fans, are we embarrassed by our players, or do we just want to beat the Steelers, Browns, and Ravens no matter the cost? After all, it’s better to be thought of as criminals than perennial losers, right?

Alright, so here’s a little reward for the Dime’s faithful readers. Guess how much money is in the change jar below (click on the image to enlarge), and you will win a prize if your entry is the closest to the total dollar amount. The jar is about 13 inches tall, 20 inches around, and is filled to the brim.

Email your entry to smoofv@yahoo.com, and we will annnounce the winner in two weeks. Good luck, and don’t forget to check out my Dash For Dimes page to help me raise money for the March of Dimes as I run the LA Marathon.

It was cold and windy last Saturday, but lots of friends and coworkers braved the bitter, 45 degree arctic blast to shower our friends, Mark and Kelley (known as E-Y in these parts) Newhouse with gifts, love (ahh, how sweet), and support for the little boy they are expecting next month. The rockin’ baby bash was held in our clubhouse, and was hosted by Move, Inc.’s own version of the U.N. — Tina (German), Lupita (Mexican-American), and Chong (Korean-American), all of whom did a magnificent job. Games were played, a pound of Peete’s coffee was imbibed (sorry Java Groove), and a crockpot full of homemade chilli was eaten. The big twist on this event was the presence of dudes — a bunch of them. To a man, though, they all had a great time, and were fortunate to learn the exact meaning of the word, “layette.”

Well…I did it. I ran 20 miles yesterday. It was 37 degrees at start time, and the temperature barely reached the mid 40s by the time we finished, three and a half hours later. So much for sunny California. A chilly, moist wind blew off the ocean at 15 MPH most of the day. But the Racin’ Eights fought through with the help of our fantastic, inspirational pace leaders, and lots of GU, Gatorade, Gummy Bears, and Pretzels. The route went from the center of Venice Beach up to California Ave. in Santa Monica, then all the way down to Playa del Rey and back again. It’s a beautiful course right along the beach, but I must admit to remembering very little scenery. After about ten miles, my focus remains dead ahead. Last night I dreamt of pavement, and the backs of dozens of heads bobbing up and down before me.

The highlight of my run was bridging a three minute gap to the group when I stopped to use the facilities at mile thirteen. Oh, and of course, it was against the wind. The idea of soloing seven miles to the finish was not an option. There is something about the goup dynamic. Fifty people running two-by-two in a steady train of effort and support. I know millions of people train for marathons by themselves, but I fear I would not have finished yesterday had I not caught back on, and I know my marathon training as a whole would have ended months ago without the camaraderie and teamwork of the Roadrunners.

So today, I’m sore. I have illotibial band syndrome (runner’s knee) in my left knee, which means lots of ice and a longer recovery time. With six weeks to race day, we still have 20 and 22 mile training runs to go. I’ve decided to run my marathon in support of the March of Dimes. Please check out The Dash for Dimes page to learn more about why I’m doing this and how you can help.

So, we decided that this will be the year of home improvement at Hamlin House, and the first step would be to install some new lighting in the stairwell and dining room. With the help of Tina’s parents, Manfred and Marion, we decided to go with a monorail system and found a great deal at Ylighting. Then, our good friend and lighting-man to the rich and famous, John Chavarria, graciously took time out of his busy schedule to install them for us today. Check out the before and afters below, and give John a shout if you’re in need of lighting design or installation.

John Chavarria
New Electrical Concepts
805-376-0281

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Here that? It’s dial tone. The dime has officially been re-dropped. After a long layoff, we’re back in action.

As the About Page details, I started this blog to keep family and friends in touch with our lives in California, and specifically, a pregnancy we eventually lost after five joyful months. A lot has happened in the meantime — things I surely would have written about: travels, visits, new experiences, job news, Hollywood industry stuff, movies, books, writing, teaching, the debacle that is the BCS, the plague that is Fantasy Football, and the scourge that is Floyd Landis and the Tour de France.

For those of you who informed me that you checked-in on The Dime often when it was up and running (and I’m surprised to hear how many there were), I’m sorry for abandoning you. I’ll do my best from now on to keep you updated on our little life in the Valley. First order of business is to check out The Dash for Dimes. I’m running a marathon in March and you can read all the details over there, and help me to make a difference in the fight to prevent and cure birth defects.

20 mile training run to come this Saturday. Wish me luck. More on that later if I survive it, and welcome back.

So, among the independent-minded, socially and environmentally aware, anti-chain store globalization haters, it’s cool to despise Starbucks. In L.A., they prefer the smaller, specialty coffee houses, the Mom & Pop shops, or at the very least, Coffee Bean or Peete’s, which have, say, 1/1000 of the retail footprint of the Seattle Java Giant.

I tend to agree with them on most counts. I mean, if you can find a place with good atmosphere and great coffee that isn’t a Starbucks, one that’s locally owned and not franchised – then I say go for it. Support the good folks who have dared to dream; who have staked a flag in the suburban cement with the audacity to take on corporate America. Give them your business. Go to the record stores, book stores, drug stores, hardware stores, and restaurants owned by people who make decisions about their businesses themselves, without having to download directives from the corporate office.

Problem is, and this is sad, it takes work to find these places nowadays. We must be willing to drive off the beaten path, break our routine, or get out of our chair, put on our pants, and sign off from the internet to take a chance. Until recently, I’ve been lazy. I’ve been a Starbucks guy mostly because they provide big, open spaces with lots of outlets for my computer. Plus…they’re everywhere. The coffee itself isn’t even that much of a consideration, especially since I can make it better at home with my Freiling French press sold at The Tabletop. I use coffee shops as office space with cheap rent so that I can get out of the house and write in a hard wooden chair far from all of the distractions of home (see Tivo).

For months, I’ve driven by a little place near our home called Java Groove, and I’ve always thought – “I should check it out. It’s CLOSER than Starbucks. But it could suck, and then I will have wasted, like, five minutes and $3 checking it out.”

Well, it’s a New Year, so I finally went in and discovered – insert trumpet fanfare – it doesn’t suck. It’s great, in fact. Italian Illy brand coffee, free wi-fi, clean tables and floors, hot panini sandwiches, plenty of outlets, and friendly service to beat even the best Starbucks – you know, the one right next door to the corporate headquarters in Seattle where they’re testing the seasonal Easter Eggochino?

Lesson learned. Next time I see a privately owned shop providing a service or product I require, I’ll give them a shot. If it sucks, I won’t go back. But hopefully it won’t, and I’ll be supporting private enterprise – which, as our President says, “is the backbone of America,” while he and the rest of Washington take millions of dollars in contributions from those Java Giant types.

Java Groove Coffee
14310 Victory Blvd
Van Nuys, CA 91401
(818) 785-6593

Last year I boldly told my friends that the Bengals would win the division. They laughed, I swore at them, and in the end, I was right, so I swore some more. This year, I had no such feeling. The schedule would be brutal. It was like the league had it in for us. “We can’t possibly let the Bengals win.” Even before we lost over half a dozen starters to injury and suspensions (there isn’t a new joke that can be made on that subject), I was thinking 9-7, 10-6 if we were lucky. I figured we’d be in a fight for a wildcard with that kind of schedule, especially with Carson coming back from injury as he was.

A sophomore slump was to be expected. They are a young team unaccustomed to winning. It got in their heads. Many of them got into trouble. Even more of them got hurt. They blew games they should of won (Tampa Bay was not entirely their fault). And when they faced the toughest teams in the league, they imploded under the pressure, ultimately finishing 8-8 – a record Bengal fans were thrilled with just two years ago.

There are a few positives. Now they know what it takes to win consistently in the NFL. Now they know that one good year does not a champion make. Now they know the consequences of being stupid off the field. Unless the NFL does truly despise the Orange and Black, the 2007 schedule should be easier. They have a mid-round draft pick to spend on defense. They have some cap room. And most importantly, they have a bitter taste in their mouths. Next season is the test. Next season will inform Cincinnati fans whether the Lewis era is a flash in the pan, or a slow build toward becoming champions.