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Disconnected Movie Nonsense.

Odd stuff happening in my personal and professional life.

The other day, out of a clear blue sky, guy calls up looking into movie rights for the kidlit series K and I wrote some years ago. I Googled him and his phone number and it seems the guy is for real. "A" list real.

Here's what's weird: that very day, for the first time in at least 5 years, K and I decided to locate our contract and check on film rights. The guy -- we'll call him Mr. Malibu -- reached us by way of a web site I shut down the day after he found it, a professional organization I no longer belong to, and on a phone number I had tried (obviously unsuccessfully) to have cut off two months ago.

So some day there may be a movie . . . Better yet, there may be merchandise. Ahhh. . . merchandise.

The other thing also involves a movie, or at least TV. My Chicago boys and I got funding to complete a documentary we started four years ago. Upshot is that this spring I get to hop a jet and fly off to Europe for a couple of weeks and argue politics with furriners.

Cool.

“Disconnected Movie Nonsense.”