The First Echo

To celebrate 25 years since the dynamic duo of Steven Spielberg and Richard Donner gave us The Goonies on the big screen, the Blu-Ray gods have blessed us with the above (available November 2). Needless to say, I nearly hyperventilated when I happened to catch this announcement while browsing through Amazon. The film represents a true landmark of my childhood, one of the first movies I had seen in a theater (the first, or the earliest I can remember, was the re-release of Pinocchio sometime in the early 80s). I have vague memories of my grandmother taking me to see The Goonies in one of the old moviehouses on Main Street back in New Rochelle. It must have left a huge impression on me because whenever it showed up on TV, I would drop everything and glue my eyes to the screen. Perhaps it was the whole wonder-and-awe sentiment of the film, allowing millions of little boys and girls to indulge in their ultimate fantasy -- that there's adventure and excitement (and pirate's boot

With my current state of affairs, I had nearly forgotten that TheFirstEcho.com turns 4 years old this month. Four years of "life updates" from Los Angeles. Four years of pop cultural commentary and numerous attempts to make sense of this odd planet we call Hollywood. Four years of trying to navigate my life through a gauntlet of rejections, celebrations, surprises and achievements. Looking back at one of my first postings , I see that four years ago I was obsessed with a new local band called Under The Influence of Giants (and where are they now?) as well as Christina's then-released Back to Basics (a far cry from her Bionic plea for attention). Four years ago I just started working at Anonymous Content. Four years ago I joined a little event called Hot in Hollywood . Four years ago I clearly wasn't the same person who now writes this to you. Where am I now? Well, if you've checked out my previous entries, then you should get a clear picture. Despite it all, h

August 16, 2010. 8:00AM My mom had lung cancer. Well, I hope that's true by the time you read this. Had . As in, gone. Done away with. Where did we leave off? This morning I was too lazy to drive to the gym, but I pushed myself out the door to go on a jog/walk in my neighborhood. I say jog/walk with an emphasis on 'walk' since my pathetic endurance allows me to jog three or four blocks at a time. With every step and every breath I took I imagined each inhalation of fresh air, by some way of divine magic, pumping into my mom's lungs from across the country. Each step, each sucked-in ounce of oxygen, was for her. If I sound like I'm getting all mystical and holistic on you, then blame/applaud Eat Pray Love . I'm 60 pages away from the end, and reading it couldn't have come at a better time. Sure, it's brought on the itch to drop everything and travel across the globe, but simply reading it every night before I go to bed is an act of meditation in its

August 11, 2010 . My mother has lung cancer. I think the more I say it - or if I write it down several times - the less scary it will become. But right now, I'm not sure if it does. I'm also not sure if it was inevitable. Inevitable meaning: Life has treated me pretty well thus far (no abuse, no trauma, no life-scarring events), and I've been extremely fortunate without having to endure any extreme hardships, which only begs the question of What could possibly go wrong? Inevitable meaning: my mother had been a smoker for as long as I can remember, and as an f'ed-up sign of irony delivered from the Universe, she was diagnosed only two months after quitting cigarettes altogether. Inevitable meaning: I'm starting to think that Fate definitely doesn't like to be tempted. This recent development has forced me to teeter closer to the edge of that Worst Nightmare I've had ever since I was a child: losing a parent. But before some of you jump to express your s

That's right, songs. As in, plural. As in, more than one. The first you may recognize from a certain trailer for a certain movie starring a certain actress named Julia Roberts: Eat Pray Love . It's Florence + the Machine's "Dog Days Are Over," a joyous ode to...joy. And hope. Because without hope, there can be no joy. And right now, I need all the hope I can get. The second tune, the rapturous "Drumming Song," also comes from the outstanding British band. Turn up the volume and let it recharge your mental batteries:

Location: 24-Hour Fitness gym. Time: 7:45am Today, I will amp it up to Level 12. That guy looks like LaFayette from True Blood . Okay, is that smell coming from Old Dude Who Needs to Wear Longer Shorts? Did I remember to turn on the dishwasher when I left the apartment? Is it wrong of me to think that Fox News correspondent is hot? Why is this TV tuned into Fox News? "From here on out, I'll be your commander!" I hope to God there's no one hovering near my locker when I go back in to shower. Out of all the lockers in the room, why does someone always have to pick the one RIGHT NEXT TO MINE? Hey, where's that Wolf Blitzer lookalike? I haven't seen him in a while. I'm hungry. The water from this place tastes funny. Does she really need to be wearing that much makeup on the elliptical? She's only going to sweat it off. Silly woman. "That boy is a monster...m-m-monster..." Must remember to edit that Comic-Con footage tonight on iM