California Diary 4

L.A 11th August 7.30am

Ghosts everywhere and I cannot shake them off. Perhaps I don't want to.

There is panic ensuing. Chaos at the airports. Rumour, then counter rumour on the radio. Out of nowhere the American flag is being unfurled on masts and in the windows of the houses of Madeira Avenue. We are still a while away from Labour Day. The fear is contagious and I have been here before, felt it and lived it at the closest of quarters.

I listen to the BBC on the Internet. They have arrested suspects at Albert Road in Walthamstow. That is only five minutes away from where I live. I have probably passed them in the street before, or maybe even smiled at them. I do that a lot and right now it is twisting my stomach.

It was hard not to think of what was happening in London yesterday and Paula did her best to divert my attention. She is a past master at this and she succeeded, well almost. We went downtown into the heart of the city. Paula and her colleague Laurie had to do a little bit of work at the Cornerstone Theatre Company office.

They tricked me big time. I did not know myself at that point that I myself was going to do a little work at the Cornerstone Theatre Company office.

There was a truck to be unloaded. A big one full of lighting and sound equipment, costumes and scenery. I got involved, got my hands dirty. I lifted and strained, dragged and pushed. I loved it. It was a hundred degrees and I sweated and swore. I was becoming one of the crew again and I threw banter around like it was the old days. Like it was 2am on a rainy freezing night at the scene dock doors of the Towngate Theatre in Basildon. The greatest and most innocent time of my life. A time when I was a gang of four. Jamie, Ian, Jason and me. Teenage musketeers who knew no better, who did not know that there was a harsh world out there full of love, hate and heartbreak. How the years have aged and turned us. We are still close but we see each other only rarely. There are mid-life agendas now.

I loved unloading that truck yesterday. It rooted me back to the grass. I manage theatres now. Have to make powerful, financial and creative decisions. It pays me well but leaves me cold. Today made me yearn for that old toil again.

When we were done and my hands and forehead were washed. I was rewarded with a fantastic Sushi lunch around the corner. I'm eating well here. It would be easy for me to demand a Diner mentality again. I love that but my health is far more important now. I still like the grease of the meatball and I'll always indulge, but since my crippling illness and subsequent weight-loss I think hard about what is going down my gullet. Miso soup is the way forward dude.

I love Downtown Los Angeles. The first time I was there was with Elizabeth many years ago. We went to see Handel's Messiah at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion on a Christmas Eve. I was seduced. I love the buildings, the dancing fountains, and the low and high life. It's still here. Homeless seventy-year-old crack addicts mix with financial gurus, painters and dancers. There is so much wrong here and that is the attraction. It will never change. They could design the most beautiful new buildings, shine the pavement until you can see your face in it, but it's the people that matter. That's where the investment has to be.

I think about Elizabeth and later on that day I call her. I am nervous, twitchy but keen to talk. She is after all the one who put me on the road to this, the one who first encouraged me to put a pen to paper and seek other opportunities. To me, Elizabeth and I will always be one of the big stories. She changed my life in so many ways. Upped the anti and showed me a new path when the old one was nearing a dead end. As usual with me, and it happens every time, there has been always an element of unfinished business. My reluctance to ever let things lie would no doubt have killed me in the end if I had not come to my senses only recently. I used to push and push until finally my heart was broken and everybody else's too. But Elizabeth seems worth it. Time and distance.

She sounded great. Breezy like she always was. She has a child and a husband now. Her son is called Reuben and his voice is in the background. He is making pictures and it's funny. Elizabeth is the great Mother that she always promised to me. Although it's only a phone call, the interaction between her and son is wonderful to listen to. We promise to write to each other and I know that I will. Shine on lady.

In the evening, Paula and me watch a movie on her tiny TV. I drink a little wine and eat a few olives. It's always easy with Paula. It's like having a flatmate. There is never any ceremony or walking on gilded splinters. I can stretch here.

Could be the Getty today, or the beach. I'll take whatever. London and aeroplanes are an ocean away.

Quote of the day:
Egotism: Usually a case of mistaken nonentity.
Barbara Stanwyck