This required documentation:
We were at a house in the Hollywood hills (courtesy yet again of JM), another barbecue in a splendid house, sort of tucked away between winding roads and canyons. The house and yard looked accidental in its layout, as if trying to accomodate the odds and ends of space left after years of evolving urban planning. As a result, the patch of sky available to us was cordoned off by sharp slanting roofs and wide walls of canyon. But what sky was there, was very blue. And then out of nowhere, we could see the stark streaks of sky-writing as the buzzing plane wove a circle around the sky. We were all riveted wondering what it would turn out to be.
"It's the Mercedes sign!"
"No, it's peace, you dork."
"Uh, I was kidding."
The plane cut right across the diameter, ruling out anyway the possibility of peace or Mercedes love. It was all kind of inscrutable, what it was supposed to be.
Finally, one dude I've always regarded as fairly sharp, said, "It's FANTASTIC FOUR!"
Very exciting. Movie marketing, taking all new heights. (Pun intended.) In my mind, a classic hallmark of an Angeleno holiday weekend. As the little plane sped away, back to a hangar to meet account executives, the smoke dissolved just enough to channel flames of fire. I smiled a great deal at this.
posted by Lucy Sloan @ 10:52 AM
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