(At the time of this writing, I still have abut 2700 words to go, but by the middle of Friday I will have wrapped that up so let’s just jump forward to that magical time.) Booyah.
This was fun and tough and sucky and inspirational, and I doubt I’ll ever do it again. Script Frenzy, maybe, but novels are not my thing. So why did I decide to do this? I can’t remember anymore except that it seemed like something I needed to do. And it’s done.
Here’s my last excerpt. I was recreating a call I still remember pretty well from more than ten years ago.
“You think I’m crazy, I don’t give a shit. I know where I was. I know what happened to Marilyn Monroe. You think I’m crazy but they don’t, they know I have a lot to tell about her. I knew her and I knew what was going to happen to her and there was nothing I could do about it. The FBI have a huge file on me. Huge. I was around a lot and knew a lot of people. It wasn’t that unusual. People introduced you to other people. I knew the Beatles before anyone really knew about them aside from a few fans in Liverpool. I almost played drums for them. Yeah, everyone knows about Pete Best but that’s bullshit. I was the fucking fifth Beatle. But that didn’t happen, I wasn’t like broken up about it. Shit, would I have been if I’d known? I dunno. I don’t know if I’d want to end up like they all ended up, fucked up six ways from Sunday from being the biggest thing on the planet. That ain’t sour grapes. I’m not saying I’m better off, fuck no. Paul had to ditch that one-legged wife of his but I’m pretty sure he’s doing okay. I’m just saying, at the time it wasn’t any big deal. And that’s how I met Marilyn Monroe. She had a lot of friends, she needed to talk to people a lot. Or she didn’t have a lot of friends, but she had people she talked to. She talked to me and sister, you have no idea what went on. All those conspiracy guys – well, shit, it’s out there in plain view now about her and Jack Kennedy, but I mean, the really weird stuff that the conspiracy guys talk about, all the drugs and weird sex and gang-rape parties…well, I’m not saying everything I know about all that but I know enough and more. And she didn’t commit suicide any more than I did.”
So I say goodbye to the hotline once again and proceed to quit dogging these blog posts now that December’s almost here. I do have one more guest post for you on Monday, an article about science education from one of the best teachers I ever had. I’m looking forward to sharing it. And now, speaking of The Beatles, I send you off with a lovely cover of “Eleanor Rigby” by three guys with guitars. Enjoy the rest of the holiday weekend and don’t get trampled today. And happy first anniversary to Halforums!
