Citizen of the Month

the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Tag: Russian dialect coach

Sophia Went to Temple with the Satin Slayer

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Someone has been killing half of the town of Pine Valley on “All My Children,” including the beloved Dixie Martin. This week, the mysterious and villainous “Satin Slayer” was revealed as Billionaire Alexander Cambias Sr.!   Not only was Alexander Cambias previously dead on the show, but this billionaire serial killer was famous for something even more important: in September, he helped Sophia obtain impossible-to get-tickets for temple during Rosh Hashanah services when they were both working on the same movie in New York.  The actor, Ronald Guttman, was playing a Rabbi, and Sophia was there as a Russian dialect coach par excellence.

I’d like to think that his good deed for Sophia was “paid back” by the producers of All My Children, when they brought him back to life again for such a juicy role.  Mr. Guttman, you are doing a smashing job, although to be honest, you look a little bit too kind and bohemian to be a serial killer. But, hey, you’re getting paid! We’re looking forward to the big scene where you and Zach Slater finally have your big showdown (and he will probably kill you).  But who knows? — maybe when Zach finally kills you, it won’t be forever.  After all, you were dead once before, and see…

Sophia and I even forgive you for killing off Dixie.

So, let this be a lesson to everyone out there. Do something kind for someone today and you will be paid back in an unexpected way — like being brought back to life to play a serial killer on a soap opera!

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: the always popular “Briefs or Boxers” post

Remember:  Send Carnival of the Mundane links to neilochka at yahoo dot com.

Donut Shop Redux (Now with Sprint Phone)

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Six months ago, Sprint invited me to become part of the Sprint Ambassador program. I received the Samsung SPH-A920 phone and free service for six months.  Sophia, being my blog editor, received one as well.  They were interested in feedback and let’s be honest — me blogging about it (although this wasn’t a requirement).  I really like the phone — it has great sound quality — but Sophia LOOOVES the phone and the service, especially now that she is in NY, working as a Russian Dialect Coach par excellence on an independent film. Miss Lansky uses it all the time and is totally turned on by the fact that you can download music, watch TV and movies, read the NY Times, play Ms. Pac-Man, get talking walking directions, find restaurants, etc. all on one phone. Of course, if we had to PAY for all of this, we wouldn’t be able to eat.

Sophia, being Sophia, thinks we can wrangle our way into getting another SIX months with the phone. I told her it was a six month deal, and everyone seems to have gotten the same email recently that “time was up.” Sophia does not understand those words.

“Maybe if you had blogged about the phone more, Sprint would let you keep it.”

“How many times can I blog about it? I did blog about it.”

“You blogged about it ONCE — using the camera phone to take a photo of your c**k. That’s not the type of publicity Sprint wants.”

“The official phone of Neil’s…”

“That’s not funny. Write about them one more time. Maybe they’ll extend the term.”

“I’m not going to do that. My readers will see right through that. I’m always complaining about how bloggers are sell-outs. They’ll lose all respect for me.”

“How much “respect” do they really have for you anyway? You don’t think THEY would sell you out for some free phone service?”

“Never. Brooke maybe. But no one else.”

“Just do it for me. Just write about them one more time.”

Now, as most of you know, “pleasing a woman” is my middle name. So, since most of you didn’t read my story about the donut shop from a few days ago, I’m now going to rewrite it, showing you how much more of a better “experience” it could have been if my Sprint Ambassador Phone had played a bigger role in the story.

THE INFOMERICAL IN THE DONUT SHOP

Near my home is a little independent donut shop. I’ve never seen one person inside other than the owner — a petite, middle-aged, Korean woman. After being woken up in the morning by the alarm on my Sprint Ambassador Phone, I went out to get something to eat. As I was driving, I decided I was in the mood for a donut. I used the Garmain GPS I downloaded onto the Sprint Ambassador Phone to lead me straight to my local donut shop. I went in, ordered a jelly donut and cup of coffee, and sat down at the bright orange, plastic, uncomfortable, table/chair thingamajig that’s bolted to the floor. I used my Sprint Ambassador Phone to read the New York Times and my favorite blogs on Bloglines. The donut and coffee were truly the worst coffee and donut I’ve ever tasted. As I sat eating my disgusting donut, the owner watched some infomercial on a 13″ TV sitting on the counter. I thought about downloading some tunes with my Sprint Phone, but I decided on watching the owner instead.

The infomercial was one of those get-rich-quick schemes:

“Use my stock market technique, and within two weeks, your two thousand will be two hundred thousand!”

As one “success story” after another gave his testimony, I could see the eyes of the donut woman widen. She was totally enraptured by what was being said. I made a voice recording on the Sprint Ambassador Phone reminding me to call the TV network and complain about them showing this type of crap on air, and I used the Sprint Ambassador Phone to email my attorney uncle in San Francisco about taking legal action against them.

I began to feel bad for this woman. She clearly had no talent in making either donuts or coffee. I used the Sprint Ambassador Phone to IM my friend at El Camino Community College to see if there was some type of “refresher course” this woman could take. This woman was probably losing all her money in this awful donut shop. I used the calculator on the Sprint Ambassador Phone to do “the numbers.” It looked bad. And this type of infomercial preys on a woman like this — someone who may be uneducated or part of an immigrant community. It is these innocent people who don’t realize that it is all a scam. I took a photo of the woman with Sprint Ambassador Phone so I would always remember the sad moment, and emailed Sophia a copy.

“I put two thousand dollars into the stock market, and soon I was able to quit my job,” said some overly-eager male voice on the television. “Now I don’t spend time behind a desk, but behind the wheel of my new yacht!”

I felt anger at this scam artist on TV, with this modern era three-card Monte swindle. (is it monte or Monte? I used the dictionary on on my Sprint Ambassador Phone to figure it out). I was so furious that I squeezed my donut with my hand, shooting some jelly onto my shirt and the Sprint Ambassador Phone (but the sturdy plastic is easily cleaned).

What was I to do? I had to warn her. I saw her writing some information on a piece of paper. Was she actually going to call these crooks?

I knew this really wasn’t my business, but I felt it was my duty to speak up. As an American citizen. As a Good Jew. I walked over to the counter. She pointed at the pile of donuts.

“Donut?” she asked.

“No, thank you,” I said. “I just wanted to tell you to be careful with these types of TV shows. They might look like real shows, but they are commercials. Don’t believe everything they tell you. You weren’t thinking of calling them up, were you?”

“Donut?” she asked again, being that it was the only English word she knew.

Luckily, I had my Sprint Ambassador Phone. I contacted Sarah, an Asian-languages professor at UCLA, and downloaded a English-Korean dictionary from the internet. I was able to explain everything to the woman in Korean, who revealed to me that she was about to invest her life savings with this crook. She was so grateful for my help that she offered me free donuts for life. I was honest and told her that her food needed improvement. I told her about this “Donut Shop” course they had at El Camino Community College. We quickly enrolled her online with my Sprint Ambassador Phone, grabbing the last spot in the class.

Meg (the donut owner’s name) now runs a chain of donut stores in Redondo Beach and is a great success. We also became lovers while Sophia was in New York. We send cutesy text messages to each other every day. Thank you Sprint Ambassador Phone. Think what else I could do with six more months of free service!

Friday

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What a coincidence!  I live in Redondo Beach, too!

Other more important things:

Danny Miller of Jew Eat Yet has a terrific piece in the Huffington Post (or as Sophia calls it, “that vile Hollywood liberal rag”)

Jay Allen of the ultra-popular Zero Boss has a funny video complaining about his hosting company, Dreamhost, and mentions me.  (I’m with Dreamhost, too, and it is the reason this site has been down half the week) 

Ms. Sophia Lansky sends regards.  She is working very hard on the movie in New York — 16 hour days — but she is now getting paid more.  Sophia is a Russian dialect coach to an American actress (Natasha Gregson Wagner) and an American English dialect coach to a Russian actor (Semyon Strugachev).   But she still gets to see “The Producers” on Sunday.

I am getting the bulk of my traffic today from Pantiesetc.com, the Men in Panties Community (I am not joking!).  I’m not sure whether I should be happy or concerned about this interesting development with my blog.

And hear this, former “Bloggers With Biceps” members  — we have a success story way better than any other phony one from Jenny Craig — Alison joined a gym back then.  Not only is she now a sexy hardbody, but she’s going to WORK at her gym and inspire others!

And finally, since this post is really about nothing, I have a couple of real-life questions that might give you a hint of the excitement of my day tomorrow.   What do people use that is most effective in cleaning a kitchen floor and shower/bathtub?   And do men still iron their dress shirts or do they usually give them out to the cleaners?

A Year Ago on Citizen of the MonthMy First Attempt at Looting

The Romantic Post

This morning, I had a pleasant surprise.  Sophia sends me a photo of herself at work, taken with her cellphone.  I called her a half hour later, telling her I have a surprise for her in return.

Neil:  “Sofotchka, cute photo!  I made a post out of it for the blog.  Check it out.   It’s in draft.”

Sophia goes into my “manage” area of WordPress to look at the post.  It looks something like this:

Thursday Morning, 8AM,  Los Angeles —

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Thursday Morning, 8AM, New York —

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Sophia:  “Uh, I don’t get it.”

Neil:  “It’s supposed to be romantic.  It’s like we’re 3000 miles apart, but I’m still dreaming about you in bed.”

Sophia:  “Huh?  You’re really losing it.  No one is going to get that.”

Neil:  “No?’

Sophia:  “What it actually looks more like is, “Look here.  Sophia is awake and is already hard at work as a Russian Dialect Coach early in the morning while I’m still in bed lying around.””

Neil:  “Why would I write a post like that?”

Sophia:  “I have no idea.   That’s why I was confused.”

Neil:  “It’s supposed to be romantic.”

Sophia:  “Well, thank you.  But how old is that photo of you?  It doesn’t even look like you.”

Neil:  “A few years.”

Sophia:  “A few years?  At least five or six.  You don’t have one white hair on your head.  Are you trying to fool your readers?”

Neil:  “No, I just needed a photo of me sleeping.  I’m supposed to be dreaming about you, remember?!”

Sophia:  “I remember this photo.  This is like SEVEN years ago.  I took it while you were sleeping… of your tush.  You’re obsessed with this naked thing!  What is this — a porno blog now?”

Neil:  “It’s supposed to be romantic!”

Sophia:  “Email me this photo.  I forgot all about it.”

Neil:  “No.”

Sophia:  “Now you’re shy?”

Neil:  “I don’t feel romantic anymore.”

Sophia:  “Aw, come on.   You flirt with every girl on the blogosphere, but won’t send your own (separated) wife a  photo of your tush.”

Neil:  “OK, here…”

I email the photo to Sophia.  She starts laughing.

Neil:  “What’s so funny?”

Sophia:  “Forget about your gray hairs.  Your ass doesn’t look like that anymore, either!”

 

A Year Ago on Citizen of the MonthNeilochka vs. Nicole

Sophia in “Windfall”

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The cast of "Windfall" (sans Sophia)

In the past, I’ve mentioned that Sophia frequently works as a Russian dialect coach for movies and TV, as well as doing her regular job as a court interpreter.   A few weeks ago, thanks to a a very unexpected recommendation by her friend, Richard, Sophia got called in to audition for a guest shot on a new NBC show called "Windfall," playing, of all things, a Russian court interpreter.   Sophia nailed the audition and got the job. 

"Windfall" is a drama about a group of people who share a large lottery winning.  It will premiere in January.  The show stars Luke Perry.  Yes, that Luke Perry.

Even though the scene was short, Sophia must have made a great impression, because now she’s been called back to play the same character in a second episode filming this Friday!

Sophia thinks this might be the final scene with the Russian interpreter — or is it?  I sat down today to quickly write a new "Windfall" script, hoping to convince the producers to expand Sophia’s role.

Here’s one of the scenes from my teleplay:

INT.  PETER’S BEDROOM – NIGHT

Peter (Luke Perry) and Natasha (Sophia Lansky) are in bed together, post lovemaking.

Peter:  "Natasha, I’ve never done this before.  But hearing you simulataneously interpret for that Russian killer was one of the most erotic experiences of my life."

Natasha:  "Do you really want me to move in here with you?  After all, we just met this afternoon."

Peter:  "Yes, Natasha.  We are soulmates, I know it.   I’ve already broken it off with my girlfriend."

Natasha:  "But doesn’t she already have thirteen episodes in her contract… I mean a baby with you?"

Peter:  I’m Luke Perry… I mean Peter, one of the winners of the lottery.  I can choose my own destiny and I choose YOU."

Natasha:  I love you… Peter…

Peter:  I love you, Natasha…

They kiss, passionately.  It is clear that Peter is the best kisser Natasha has ever kissed, surpassed only by the passion and skill of her separated husband, Nikolai.

Natasha:  "You know what I really want to do now…?"

Peter:  "I do know… because I want to do it, too…"

Natasha:  "…go online together and see if there’s a new post from "Citizen of the Month.""

Peter:  "That’s my favorite blog also.  We have so much in common!"

They go hand-in-hand to the computer.

FADE OUT

END OF SCENE

Good, huh?  They are definitely going to keep Sophia for more episodes now!

Break a leg, Sophia!

Today on Blogebrity:  JJ at Purgatorian (his site)

Neilochka’s Favorite Things 2005

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Welcome, readers.  I know you are here today thinking that this is just another one of my run-of-the-mill blog posts, but you are in for a…

BIG SURPRISE. 

(Hopeful gasp from readership)

In honor of Oprah’s annual over-the-top consumer-fest, Oprah’s Favorite Things 2005, which airs on Monday, I would like to introduce the first annual:

Neilochka’s Favorite Things, 2005! 

(Readers cheer wildly)

With the holiday season approaching, I want to offer some great gift-giving ideas.  But even more importantly, I want to say THANKS to all the new friends that I have made through this blog this year.

So, here it goes.  And remember, most of you will be walking away with GIFTS OF YOUR OWN!

(Readers get up and go crazy)

1) 

First up, I would like to thank you all for being such an intelligent and witty group.  When I first read you all, I visualized you as being very suave and sophisticated.  Unfortunately, I met a few of you and my image of you was quickly destroyed.  Some of you dress like real schlubs.  To rectify this, I would like to introduce my first favorite thing in the hopes that you will now start to dress as fashionably as you blog. 

Yes, I am talking about your very own ‘I Love Blogging" trucker hat!

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"I Love Blogging" trucker hats for everyone!

(Readers start chanting, "Neilochka!  Neilochka!  Rah Rah Rah!")

2) 

How many times have your rushed off to work and forgot to read the latest "Citizen of the Month" post? Sure, you can read it later or at work.  But wouldn’t you enjoy the post more when it is hot and fresh off the presses?  The answer is better time management.  For that, you need a timepiece that will always remind you when my latest post is up, and that will always be on Pacific Time.  Yes, you are some of the first people in the world to see my new "exclusive" line of watches that  I personally designed with Sophia’s assistance. 

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Yes, it is the "Citizen" brand of watches!   Each of you gets a choice of three of the finest watches made in the world!

(Readers scream in joy.  Several women take off their tops and wave their hard-to-unhook-bras in the air)

3) 

Many of you know that I have a special bond with my female readers.  I have never met a group of women who are as smart and sexy as you.  I feel I owe you a special thanks for all your love and support.  To show you my love, I’d like each of you to have another one of my favorite things of this year:  exact replicas of the $3.99 bouquet of slightly wilted flowers that I bought Sophia in an earlier post!

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(Several female readers faint.  Akaky has to give mouth-to-mouth to Tatyana)

4)

Speaking of Sophia, as my editor, she frequently calls me up to tell me that my post really sucked that day.  Sometimes, to better put her point across, she swears at me in Russian, a language known for its elaborate curses.   As a talented interpreter, actress and Russian dialect coach, Ms. Sophia Lansky knows all the proper curses in this extremely expressive language.  The English language is like Wimpsville  compared to Russian.   In English, it is considered inflammatory to say "Your mother!"  In Russian, they say, "Your mother like this and that, up, down, and around, and their mother, and seven coffins, too!"    Maybe because of Russia’s sad history, coffins are big in Russian.  You just don’t say, "F–k your mother!"  You say "F–k your mother through seven gates while whistling… and in her coffin!"  

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not big on cursing, so I’m been trying to catch up to Sophia by studying this book "Dermo!: The Real Russian Tolstoy Never Used!"  It is definitely one of my favorites this year.  If you always dreamed of cursing like a Russian sailor, this is the book for you.   A copy for everyone!

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(Readers cheer for Sophia.  Some male reader, drunk on vodka, reads from his new book and screams out to Sophia, calling her a "smokin’ hot piece of stuffed cabbage" in Russian.)

5) 

I’d like to give a special thank you to all my my anorexic readers.  It is your commitment to your unhealthy lifestyle that made my crappiest post into the most popular one.   Without you, I wouldn’t have my photos of Nicole Richie hot-linked all over the blogosphere.    You are the ones who made this site what it is today — not much.

What?  Is that a special guest I see coming it?  Yes, it is Nicole Richie herself!  And she is bringing each and every "Ana" site reader one of my favorite things — an In-N-Out burger from California’s best hamburger chain!

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(The Ana women would cheer, but most of them are too busy stuffing their faces with their first meal all  week and then running out to throw up)

6) 

Finally, I want to turn my attention to those who are most in need.  Because that’s what the Holidays are all about. 

I am talking to you, SHORT MEN.  

You have been nothing short of miraculous. You are another group of loyal readers, although you never read anything other than this one post about yourselves.  But I feel bad for you.  For months, my female readers have been shooting you down, saying that a man’s height is more important than anything else.  I know many of you feel insecure about your height.  That’s why I want to give  you the most important gift of all — your self esteem back.   This is truly my most favorite thing of 2005 — and it is not a consumer product.  It is the knowledge that in matters of love and romance, a man’s height is not the most important thing.   There are many ways to a woman’s heart, even when a man is short

NSFW… click here

Sophia and “Serenity”

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A few weeks ago I mentioned that Sophia was the Russian dialect coach on "The Lord of War" with Nic Cage.    She also worked as a dialect coach for and did some voice-over work on "Serenity," which is doing well at the box-office.   Because of everything that happened, we haven’t seen either yet, so please tell us if these films are any good.

Lord of War

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If you happen to see the movie "Lord of War" this weekend, you should know that Sophia was the Russian dialect coach and cultural consultant for the film (both Nicolas Cage and Jared Leto play Russians).  And yes, she’s been to both of their homes.    I think it is obvious that she has a much more interesting life than I do.

Real Celebrity Encounters

 

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My weekend of celebrity photos reminded me of an email conversation I recently had with a woman who just graduated college.  She lives in a small Midwestern town and wants to move to either New York or Los Angeles. 

"What is it like?" she wants to know.

She doesn’t have a job, friends, or family in either of these places.  Of course, I told her that big city life is great and has many cultural advantages, but I was concerned about her reasons for wanting to move.  She seemed to mostly buy into the media image of the glamour of these cities.   Let’s stop the urban legends right now.  Most young New Yorkers do not live in the apartments you see in "Friends."  Real New York women do not live "Sex in the City" lives.  Few Angelenos shop in Beverly Hills ala "Pretty Women."  Ask any New Yorker living in a tiny apartment on 123rd Street for $2500 a month or any Angeleno driving in a rush hour traffic (or trying to buy a house) and they’d tell you the truth:  life here isn’t all that glamorous.

College girl was most excited with the prospect of meeting celebrities.  All she seemed to care about was which celebrities I have met.  She loves reading blogs from the big cities, where bloggers write about all the celebrities encounters.   She especially loves this popular LA blog, which frequently talks about celebrity encounters.  I like this blog, too, but I also know that the glamour of Hollywood life is as real as the women in Playboy.

By living in these big cities, I’ve encountered many different celebrities.  Some at work, some at the car wash.  Sophia, in particular, has worked with many famous actors as an actress and a Russian dialect coach for TV and films.  She recently was the coach for Nicolas Cage in his next movie, where he plays a Russian-born arms dealer.  

Celebrities are not any more exciting than anyone else, just a whole lot more pampered.

It’s true that the first time you accidentally bump into Michael Douglas in the shopping mall, you call all your friends.  But gradually, you are taught that what distinguishes you — a hip urbanite — from the Midwestern tourist, is that you must always act cool and make believe that you hardly notice the person’s celebrity status.  Only tourists and desperate people ask for an actual autograph.   I completely ignored David Schwimmer when we both reached for the same box of Cheerios in Ralph’s.   He would think I was a total dweeb if I went "Oh my God, it’s Ross from ‘Friends,’ the show with the giant New York apartments!  Please sign my Cheerios box!"

I think other bloggers sometimes mention all these celebrity encounters to make others "envious," as if there was something wrong living in Kansas City.  The truth is that most big city dwellers would be much happier living in a nice big house in a small town in Wisconsin.  Instead, we put up with all sorts of shit just to feel like we are somehow more important because Pamela Anderson visits the same dry cleaners we do.   Every dry cleaners in Los Angeles has a hundred glossy photos on the wall.  Is this the new casting central?

Creating envy is the sole purpose of New York and Los Angeles magazines, two rags which create a total bullshit image of these cities.  I read both of them.  Don’t take any media about big city life seriously. 

I’ve only had four celebrity encounters that are even worth mentioning.

1)  I once got drunk with Tim Allen, where he said things I cannot mention in polite company.

2)  I once had a very funny conversation with multi-billionaire best-selling author Sidney Sheldon (I know, not exactly ‘celebrity’) at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, and then lent him the three bucks for parking because he didn’t carry money around with him.

3)  I was alone, late at night, in the gym, with Bruce Springsteen.  If you live in Los Angeles, you probably know the small cheapo ‘Beverly Hills Health and Fitness’ on Beverly Drive.  The place was empty, except for me and … someone who looked like Bruce Springsteen. 

"Could it be?  Why would he be at this crappy gym?  Should I say something to him?  Should I say that I own every one of this albums?"  

This was finally someone who I would ask to sign my Cheerios box. 

Suddenly, the Boss started to walk over in my direction.  He was in great shape.  He pointed to some dumbbells sitting next to me.

Bruce:   "You using those?"

Me:  "Uh, no."

I handed them to him.  Our hands brushed against each other.  BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN’S HAND!

That was it.

4)  The last encounter was interesting only because it got me in trouble with my entire family.

Sophia and I were in New York.  We were going to a production of "Uncle Vanya" at Lincoln Center with my parents.  The show was starring Kevin Kline, one of Sophia’s favorites.  We were eating in an Italian restaurant before the show, when Kevin Kline, his wife Phoebe Cates, and one of their children, sit at the booth behind ours.  I’m the only one who notices them.  Kevin Kline and Sophia are literally sitting back to back in their respective booths.

Since I know of Sophia’s obsession with Kevin Kline, I wanted to tell her about him, but my parents have a reputation for being somewhat "overfriendly" and I was concerned that if I told everyone at my table, my parents would go over and talk to him — and embarrass me for the rest of my life.

I decided that I would just tell Sophia.  I was already living in Los Angeles at the time, so I was already indoctrinated in the "being cool with celebrities" attitude necessary to be considered a hipster.  How can I tell Sophia with being overheard by Kevin Kline?

Neil:  (whispered)  "Sophia.  Twelve o’clock."

Sophia:  "Twelve o’clock?"

She looked at her watch.

Sophia:  "It’s seven o’clock.  What wrong with you?’

Obviously Sophia never used this code when out in a bar checking out the opposite sex with friends.   No, she was probably talking to the opposite sex, not just standing there all night with loser friends, like I did.

I came up with a new plan.

Neil:  "Do you have a pen?"

Sophia:  "Why do you need a pen?"

Neil:  "I just want to write something down."

Sophia:  "What?"

Neil:  "I dunno.  An idea for a screenplay."

Sophia:  "Now?  In the middle of dinner?"

Neil:  "Just give me a pen."

Dad:  "I have a pen."

My father hands me his prize possession — his Parker pen that he’s kept in his shirt pocket for 30 years.  I try to write with it on a napkin.

Neil:  "It doesn’t work."

Dad:  "It has to work.  It’s a brand new refill from Staples.  You need to shake it."

Mom:  "Artie, when are you going to buy yourself another pen?"

Dad:   ‘They don’t make pens like this anymore."

Neil:  "Because they don’t work."

My mother dumps the contents of her pocket book onto the table, and hands me a Bic pen.

Meanwhile, a waiter brings a birthday cake over to Kevin and Phoebe’s child.  A group of waiters come over to their table and start singing Happy Birthday.  My parents and Sophia, still not knowing who they are, start singing along.

Everyone:  "Happy Birthday to you…"

Everyone claps.  I write a note to Sophia on a napkin.  It reads "Kevin Kline" with a arrow.  I slide the napkin over to her.  She reads it, getting annoyed at my behavior.

Sophia:  "I know who’s in the play.  Are you in a rush again to get there?  It’s not like it’s a movie where you need to watch all those boring trailers.  We already have seats."

Neil:  "No, read it again." 

Sophia:  "You’re acting really weird."

My father finished shaking his pen and scribbled something on his napkin.

Dad:  "Look, it’s working!

The Kline family left before I got a chance to tell the rest of my family.   After they left, I finally told them.   My family was upset at me.

Sophia:  "How could you be so selfish not to tell me?  You know I love Kevin Kline!"

There are many reasons to move to New York or Los Angeles.  Just don’t make it because of the celebrities. 

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