Light Years

3 Jan

Queen for a day

This morning, in Tobago, I looked in the mirror and saw a man who has let himself go. All of the ineffective attempts to get into shape – the half-hearted exercise, weak-willed diets, deskbound work and stress have taken their toll. The outer man doesn’t gibe with the mental image I have of myself. It’s time to take drastic measures over the course of months instead of days.

I should have come face-to-face with this a year ago, as soon as Umzumbe Boys sold. Being physically out of shape affects my mental confidence, and I need all the confidence I can muster for the next round of Hollywood meetings.

Several projects hang in the balance: Drum, Mambo Sun, Rabbi Paul and Wages of Fear. These and most likely others will heat up in January.

The gray hair won’t matter if I have the toughened look of an Israeli commando; if I look like Uncle Phil down at the candy store, I’m fucked.



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