I was in Los Angeles for a couple of days before heading down to San Diego, for an insane sequence of meetings that included spending most of one day on the Warner’s lot. Passers-by might have seen me and Bruce Timm huddled under a tree for shade and frantically smoking cigarettes before Californians came and shot us for committing Air Crimes. I have a few things in the process of Maybe Happening on the lot right now. Bumped into Craig Flores, who’s my exec on OCEAN and Untitled Arthurian Thing, and also the delightful Lisa Roos, who did her best for us on the GLOBAL FREQUENCY shoot way back when. It was one of those weird trips where the first emails you get after deplaning are “you must call the office IMMEDIATELY.” Very productive 48 hours, ending in my producers at Marvel Anime, Taro and Scott, taking me out for an excellent steak and a bottle of Pinot Noir that I think I mostly drank. William H Macy walked past our table. That guy is THIN. Thank god he was in a steakhouse, he looked like he could use a couple just to summon the strength to walk out again.
Taro had decided to drive us down to SD in the middle of the night in a hired car, so we could smoke and talk — bless the tar-lunged Japanese and their correct understanding of what a civilised world should be. We’d only spoken in phone conferences before, and by the end of the trip I’d made two new friends and only nearly died once. We got in a hair before midnight. By the time I was checked in, my friends in town had dispersed for the night, and Ryan Keely, who I was supposed to see for a drink, was across town, and I was exhausted, so I said Fuck This Town and went to bed.
Note: my hotel was non-smoking. So Taro gave me a gift: a steel Japanese portable mini-ashtray, that pops out the tray and then reseals into a pod. Lovely thing. If only the room’s window had been openable…
After pretty much no sleep at all, I was dragged out of my pit to do a filmed interview that’ll eventually form a DVD extra for the Marvel Anime stuff. This is where I discovered I had a limo with my name on a card in the window, and a driver who looked like he’s just come in from killing Clint Eastwood on the high plains. This was very strange. The interviewer was a friend of a friend, the guy who’d interviewed me for the IRON MAN DVD, and so everything went smoothly. Weird moment: one of the organisers in the room had pulled his friend’s son and his friend’s son’s friend in to meet me, so while I was stuck in this chair with a mic nailed to me these two terrified teenagers were produced. I guess I’ve reached the “fatherly advice” stage of my career. Without, I guess, having to talk about diseases or unwanted pregnancy.
Whoops. Time to go. More later.