I am sitting in Mom’s living room, having just sucked down my third cup of coffee. Jazzy is on the couch knitting something for nobody in particular and I’m arguing with my mother about all the dumb questions she asks me. Feels like Christmas in Regina.
It really is good to be home. Regina is covered in a blanket of white snow, and there’s not a hurry in sight. Grama and Papa spent the night and they’re planing to lead the charge later today, making sausages.
We played Canasta last night. Jazzy was partners with Grama & Papa, and I was partnered with Mom. We lost. Fucking goddammed 7’s wouldn’t come up, and they kept drawing wild cards. All four rounds they made two canasta’s of wild cards!
I choose to retain this bitterness because it fuels my artistic angst.
I haven’t even been out to see friends, although that’ll be changing in a couple hours. I have lunch with Courtney coming up and then drinks with Jim at La Bodega after he’s done work. I’ll spend the in-between time doing my best to avoid internet type distractions (read an article on Facebook about a guy who had his hand grafted to his ankle after it was severed in an accident) and look to get some writing done.
I’ve hatched an idea to adapt Highwaymen to a feature film from a TV pilot. This means reimagining the story by adding 30 pages. As a film, I think the idea has more legs because a football movie set in the CFL will go over very well in these parts. No need to convince Toronto-based broadcasters that Canadian football would be a ratings hit. I might even be able to crowd-source some of the funding, because people in the Rider Nation will pay for anything football related.
I’m heading back for home on January 3. What are the chances I get a good start on a new draft of the script?