Artist Barbara Hashimoto collected and hand-shredded the junk mail that came to her studio address for an entire year. . At year's end she had 3,000 cubic feet of shredded material. Her labor-intensive yet intimate process has inspired a series of sculptures, installations, performances, and collaborations including Shredded Junk Mail with Grand Piano with musician Edward Torrez and videographer Eric Hoffhines. At the commencement of the performance, an imposing pile of this shredded unsolicited material was amassed in the center of the performance space. As Torrez played on the concert grand piano, Hashimoto transferred her stockpile of shredded junk mail until it fully engulfed both musician and instrument. Her movements, initially deliberate and calm, grew into a frenzied crescendo and then into meditative resignation. Buried in paper, Torrez continued to play, his final melodic lullabies muffled by the hundreds of pounds of paper entombing the piano. The entire video can be viewed at barbarahashimoto.com

Barbara Hashimoto: Junk Mail w/Grand Piano @ flickr

R. Productions Brands Viral Video To Premiere 0n Halloween

(Chicago, Illinois – October 23, 2007) Chicago-based entertainment companies Starbrite Flicks, Static Networxs, and Hoffhines Productions have united talents to produce an ongoing viral video series for new media distribution entitled The Kreep. R. Productions, a local public relations consultant group will spearhead all media/branding initiatives.

The Kreep spotlights Brizallia R. Kreep, a famous forlorn Gothic artist living in Autumn, Illinois. With paintbrushes, pen, and loads of purple passion, he creates a canvas of characters to veil his Gothic solitude. But his somewhat macabre lifestyle is quickly interrupted when a 14-year-old ghost named Isolda Wreath visits him.

Executive producer, R. O'Donnell believes, "The Kreep is a romantic character with a Gothic sensibility and a somewhat silly way about him so just think the Addams Family meets Mr. Bean – you'll get the picture."

Starbrite, Static, and Hoffhines will begin premiering The Kreep this Halloween on the popular viral video social network youTUBE. This is simply a "hello" on The Kreeps' favorite day of the year, says Co-executive producer Michael Hull," the real deal won't be available until February 14, 2008 – Valentine's Day."

www.r-productions.com
www.staticnetworxs.com
www.hoffhinesproductions.com

contact@r-productions.com

R. ODonnell (producer/writer/director)

R. ODonnell began in the entertainment industry as a professional ventriloquist. He ran away with the Sells & Gray 3 ring circus at the tender age of 14. In high school he won a scholarship to attend the Pennsylvania Governor's School of the Arts in theatre.

In New York, he co-authored the book, music and lyrics (Dianne Adams) for the off-Broadway musical One & One that played The Bert Wheeler Theatre in the Carter Hotel, 43rd and Broadway. It received three ASCAP "Most Popular" Music Awards and was later recorded by actor Nathan Lane.

For the world's largest theater, Radio City Music Hall, R. co-wrote their hit mega-review Manhattan Showboat, celebrating over 100 years of American entertainment.

As a choreographer he staged the New York productions of Todd Curtis' Our World, Jim McDowell's Rapunzel and the Dragons, and Dick Hyman's Joan and the Devil.

Billed as The Double R, with Richard LaGravenese, R. co-penned and performed in several off-off-Broadway offerings including Spare Parts and Dangerously Funny.

In Chicago, R. is co-founder of the highly acclaimed equity theater company New Age Vaudeville. Throughout its run, R. produced, wrote and directed numerous productions starring Megan Cavanagh, including the cult-hits Elmore & Gwendolyn Putts - The Neighbors Next Door and The TV Dinner Hour (the later featured ImrovOlympic and Second City founder Del Close). Rick Kogan of the Chicago Tribune hailed both productions as "Among the most polished and clever productions of the season, a pair of devilishly inventive shows that won over critics and audiences alike."

As a stand-up comic, R. has played numerous clubs including Zanies, The Chicago Improv, and Yuk Yuks in Toronto, as well as featuring for celebrated comics Chris Rock, Bill Maher, Brian Regan, Rick Overton, and the late, great Bill Hicks.

R. co-produced the New Variety, which played at the lush 500 seat Chicago Improv Comedy Club for over 2 years. He was responsible for changing a faltering 3-ring comedy presentation to a successful variety format. The New Variety, which was hailed by the Chicago Tribune as "A cabaret for the 90's!"-was a fast-paced, ever-changing volley of acts that included award-winning jugglers, fire-eaters, comics, and sketch comedy groups including the all girl Nude Coffee, the all gay The Boys in the Bathroom, and the all improv The Upright Citizens Brigade. Dr. Boom (who literally blew things up onstage) was the highlight of the evening.

For Fox 32 Chicago, R. produced comedy segments for their New Years Eve special Twisted, featuring Matt Besser (Comedy Central's The Upright Citizens Brigade) as well as writing and directing commercials starring Besser ala "Ernie Kovacs" for McDonalds, Ford Motors, Jiffy Lube, and Ameritech.

He went on to Executive Produce and host R. Rated on Fox 32, a comedy anthology featuring short works by The Annoyance Theater with Rachel Dratch (Saturday Night Live), Mick Napier (Second City), and Stephnie Weir (Mad TV), along with Tim Kazurinsky (Saturday Night Live), among many other independent film and video makers.

For the past five years he was heavily involved in domestic film/DVD distribution with regards to the world-renowned Janus Film Library, The Criterion Collection, and The Merchant Ivory Collection. R. supervised the media campaigns for over 200 DVD titles as well as media placement and events for such celebrated directors as Buck Henry, Jim Jarmusch, Albert Maysles, Lars von Trier, Liv Ullmann, Milos Forman, Spike Lee, and Terry Gilliam.

Ondrej Nekvasils (Production Designer, Prague)

One of Prague's top theater and film designers with The Illusionist, Children of Dune, and Anne Frank: The Whole Story.

Klaus Fuxj..ger (Director of Photography)

Klaus Fuxj..ger is an award-winning director of photography. He was first camera on Van Helsing (2004), The Prince & Me (2004), The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003), Blade II (2002), Hart's War (2002), A Knight's Tale (2001) and Cinematographer on Kinderspiel (2005), The Student of Prague (2004), Derri..re les volets (2003), Vyhn..n.. z r..je (2001), Minulost (1998), Bila hora (1997), and The Last Fighter (1996).

Mark Van der Gaag (Associate Producer)

Mark Van der Gaag is an accomplished entrepreneur, artist, and motivational speaker/coach. He is founder and president of the highly successful Core Power Coaching, designed to coach individuals, groups, and organizations toward personal and professional fulfillment. For the Global Renaissance Alliance (Marianne Williamson) Van der Gaag was a Global Peace Circle Coordinator/Training Facilitator helping to design and facilitate the international program of satellite groups called GRA Peace Circles, and was also a liaison for the organization. He was founder/CEO of Rise Up Corporation, which designed and franchised climbing walls in numerous amusement parks throughout the east coast, and Van der Gaag Wood works, which manufactured handmade wood products for private and commercial use. He is currently recording his first CD of original songs, produced by R. Productions for a fall 2007 release.

Edward Colarik (Associate Producer)

Edward Colarik's talent as a multi media visual artist speaks to the unbelievable wide range of his creativity. He has an international following of collectors from Australia, Austria, Argentina, Brazil, Canada, Chile, China, Czech, Denmark, England, France, Germany, Hong Kong, Hungary, Ireland, Israel, Italy, Japan, Korea, Mexico, Netherlands, New Zealand, Russia, Spain, South Africa, Taiwan, and of course the USA. People from all over the world connect to the universal hallmark of his works.

All of his adult life he has been a creator, artist, fashion designer, and TV & film producer. One of his most enjoyable experiences was teaching his highly rated film course at UCLA for four years. He has worked on more than 100 film and TV projects. He co-founded National American Entertainment Corporation; a production and distribution company for feature films and TV shows.

Claudia Sullivan (Associate Producer)

For the past ten years, Claudia Sullivan was Marketing Coordinator for Home Vision Entertainment whose clients included the world-renowned The Criterion and Merchant Ivory Collections. While assisting R. ODonnell (Director of PR,) Ms. Sulivan helped supervise the media campaigns for over 200 DVD titles as well as media placement and events for such celebrated directors as Buck Henry, Jim Jarmusch, Ron Mann, Albert Maysles, Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Lars von Trier, Liv Ullmann, Michael Apted, Michael Bay, Milos Forman, Spike Lee, and Terry Gilliam.

Bistro Films (Production House, Prague)

Bistro Films is a dynamic award winning Production Company that was incorporated by two experienced producers both with a common ideal, To combine commercial work with film and documentary production.

Based in the heart of Europe, Prague - Czech Republic, Bistro represents local and international directors producing commercials, films, documentaries and music videos for all markets.

Maya Kvetny (Casting, Prague)

Easily regarded as one of the most innovative and successful casting agencies in Prague, Kvetny Casting has worked with numerous Production companies including Bistro Films, Dawson Productions, Still King Productions, and Bohemian Productions on such films as Hellboy, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, The Brothers Grimm, Blade II, and Chasing Liberty to name a few.

Adams and McDowell (composers)

Dianne Adams & James McDowell, a husband and wife team, have been collaborating as composers/lyricists for over 25 years.

Dianne is a native of West Virginia and former Manhattan resident, has a diverse musical background. As both composer/lyricist and musical director/arranger, her credits include Broadway, television, and the worlds largest theater Radio City Music Hall. She is the recipient of numerous ASCAP awards, three of which were at the age of 19 for the score of her first off-Broadway musical, One and One co-authored with R. O'Donnell. Dianne has participated in a multitude of NYC productions, most notably as Associate Conductor and Vocal Arranger of the Broadway Musical, Starmites, which received six Tony nominations, including Best Musical. As musical director, coach and pianist, she has worked with Grammy Award-winning artist Cleo Laine, as well as Tony-Recipient Nathan Lane (The Producers). She was nominated for the 2002 Helen Hayes Award in the category of Outstanding Musical Direction for the production of Tazewell Thompson's Constant Star at Arena Stage in Washington, D.C., as well as the recipient of the 2004 Barrymore Award, as well as winner of The 2006 Beverly Hills /Hollywood NAACP Theatre Award.

While living in Manhattan, Dianne met husband/collaborator James McDowell. As a team they have written, produced and arranged for the Broadway stage and cast recordings, including their highly acclaimed musical The Wind in the Willows (written with adapter/co-lyricist Gerardine Clark). Willows moved from Syracuse Stage for a limited run at The New Victory Theatre on Broadway, and broke all previous box office records.

Marc Summers (Casting, London)

Mark Summers of Casting Unlimited has worked with artists such as Madonna, Robbie Williams, George Michael & Richard Ashcroft and is an award-winning casting director for film, TV, pop promos and commercials.

Jiri Ptacek (Line Producer, Prague)

One of Prague's top film producers with Niceho nelituji, Best Before the End, and Rychl.. pohyby oc.. (Rapid Eye Movement).

David Skyler (Jeff Bird)

David started performing stand-up comedy at the age of eleven. He used characterizations of his family members to keep audiences in stitches, and weaved comedic stories to keep them wanting more. David became enthralled with performing live and participated at every open mic, quickly establishing himself as one of the youngest and brightest of the new crop of performing comedians. Three years later, he won entry into the highly acclaimed Laugh Factory Comedy Camp for kids. Established comics such as Dane Cook, Chris Rock, George Wallace, and Eddie Griffin trained him.

David was again the youngest actor to ever join world-renowned coach Ivana Chubbuck's acting class. For the next three years, David devoted all of his time to learning Ivana's acting techniques. His dedication paid off with a variety of reoccurring roles on the hit animated television show Family Guy and featured roles in Tim Sullivan's teen thriller Driftwood and Joseph Merhi's drama Oranges starring Tom Sizemore, Heather Locklear, and Tom Arnold, to be released in 2007.

Director Tony Kaye of American History X fame cast David in the Montana Meth Project. The on-air project had such graphic imagery that it was voted number 20 as one of the nation's most downloaded commercials.

Selected Filmography

Oranges (2007)
Anthony

Driftwood (2006)
KC

Family Guy (2001)
(voice) Paul
To Live and Die in Dixie (2001)
(voice) Ryan
Emission Impossible (2001)
(voice) Bobby


David Skyler Video:The Therapy Session

MY SUMMER WITH DEL
STOP SMILING magazine
number 17
THE COMEDY ISSUE:

Improvisational comedians have called Del Close the guru, the creative spark that helped launch the careers of Bill Murray, John Candy, and John Belushi, to name only a few. When he wasn't institutionalized by his Second City colleagues, Del spent his quiet time musing in the potsmoke of his legendary Chicago apartment. Find out the real story from someone who was right alongside him.

MY SUMMER WITH DEL
by
R. O'Donnell

Once, Chicago was good for comedy. Once, they were sloppy drunk in love. A funky flaming affair where comedy was ravished and left wanting, recklessly thrust into the faces of any audience willing to sit in a makeshift theater stuck inside a seedy bar. Crosscurrents was the rendezvous. A gloomy cabaret on the corner of Belmont and Wilton that at one time or another housed steamy liaisons between The Annoyance Theater, New Age Vaudeville, The Improv Olympic, and Del Close.

Owned and operated by Thomas L. Goodman, Crosscurrents was where comedy screwed its brains out. Remember "The Friday Night Show," Aaron Freeman's "Council Wars," "The Legend of Lily Overstreet," Paul Krassner, "On the Edge," and the all-girl sketch group Somebody's Daughters? This was an orgy of political satire, improvisation, variety, vaudeville, and theater screwing endlessly under stage lights. It was stripping in the theater, walking naked through the bar, lap-dances in the cabaret, and hand jobs in the hall. Every nook and cranny, anywhere they could, in this old Swedish meeting hall Chicago and comedy couldnt get enough. This was where the perverts and junkies, the wannabes and the pros hung out. A comedy bordello, a red-light district where humor was pimping itself, was charging cheap admission to all peeping Toms.

Here the talent was adolescent, seriously pissed-off, and brilliant, etching quotable graffiti on the walls. Here they drank, smoked, took mind-altering anything-they-could-get-their-hands-on, and danced wildly from room to room. Out of this lustful tarantella, more Comedy was born. There were the screaming infants "Splatter Theater," "Honor Finnegan vs. the Brain of the Galaxy," and the "TV Dinner Hour." This was 1987.

But nothing lasts forever. Sticky, faded love letters penned by journalists Rick Kogan, Jack Helbig, and Lawrence Bommer were placed in shoeboxes, forgotten. Chicago and comedy didn't give a shit about each other anymore, abandoning their bastard children. They survived, of course. The kiddies all did good; they looked and acted like their parents. They gave us "The Brady Bunch Live," "Twisted, Coed Prison Sluts," "Upright Citizen's Brigade," and the "R. Rated" TV show.

But who threw the party when the surly couple met? Who decided to ignite their robust passion, put acid in their drinks, and invite everyone to toast? Del Close did. Scruffy bastard. (I can see him laugh, and half say outta the corner of his mouth, Ygoddam right I did.) Yeah, this dark and aging cherub, the stand-up comic that conspired with the likes of Severn Darden and later Charna Halpern, he's the asshole that decided Chicago and comedy would be good for one another. And then? He even took care of all their deserted offspring Scruffy, funny bastard.

Del Close: greasy hair, twisted metal-rimmed glasses, and a pilots coat, brown, fading piece o' shit. (He'd kicked the chemicals, since John Belushi died.) Yeah, Del Close had chiseled off 20, 30 years by living hard and liking it. His fingers were rusty from tobacco, his teeth severely stained, and his posture crooked like a villain.

You would swear he was a movie star.

That's alright, Del would say, Charnas on it. Anything about his partner, and he was instantly defensive. Were friends, he would say. They watched each others back. They understood each other. Dont you get between them. Im serious now. Im serious.
When Crosscurrents crashed and burned, the heated passion over, and with Goodman holding all the bills, the aftermath just gasped and fizzled. Little sparks here and there made small media appearances, but these were lean and mean, and shitty all around.

Finally the Fall, the changing of the guard, and there was a cooling down, chilly weather, Chicago-easy-does-it which was fine. Del was abusing comics with his latest "Wasteland" for DC, landing movie roles as the Reverend Meeker in the remake of "The Blob" with Kevin Dillon, and as the Alderman in Brian De Palmas "The Fugitive" with Kevin Costner so he was doing fine.

All I wanted was to work in film, said Del. Ive done alright. Ive done a couple of features this year.

Yeah, he was all humble, sitting in his kitchen that looked almost boarded up. After showing off his Blob in a jar above the fridge, Del and I read comic books. They were his second private stash. He had them everywhere, several drugstore display racks stuffed in all the blind spots and dark shadows. It was nice not to deal with furniture. One overgrown kids filthy bedroom. No parents, and lots and lots of toys.

"I got a haircut," Del said.

"Looks good," I say, not noticing a difference.

"Its easier to manage."

"You had it long?"

"I went through that mad professor, hippie type."

"Didnt stick?"

"Better short."

"Yeah, better."

This wasnt brilliant banter. This wasnt wisdom from the master or worldly insights. This was boring, no-nothing conversation from a couple of shmoes just hanging out. That's all. But locked inside this gibberish was the man in all his unsophisticated splendor, this was simply Del.

I visited the instigator, not once, but throughout an entire summer I took the gamble, and walked up to the gurus lairuninvitedknocking on his door. The funny bastard answered. Go figure. And wed get high and talk.

His cannabis was nurtured, sweet-talked, maybe even massaged when no one watched, because it loved to turn you on. Del would ever-so-coolly pull this trapdoor down from up inside his closet. His bedroom looked all prisoner-of-war, gray the central color, and in this hideout, he produced the biggest stash of pot. Oh-my-stinking-lord!

I was so trashed, baked, wasted, stoned going, going, gone. Im a lightweight, and I hate to lose control. (Now I stick to coffee, thank you.) Suddenly this gothic grimy playground was effervescent, flies dancing on the walls, furniture melting into floorboards, and Del looked just like the devil, swear t'god. Paranoia sat beside me, whispered in my ear, He can read your mind.

But Del wasnt hosting fear, wasn't trying to freak me out at all. He hadn't even noticed I was fighting for my sanity, playing mental tug-of-war.

I tried to speak, but my lips just stuck together as I said something all marshmallow-y and stupid, "My hair is breathing."

"Cool," I think he said.

He didnt really care. He was content, happy to be sitting in his kitchen; happy to be alive.

"I cant feel my legs," I told him.

"Youll get over it," he said.

Del wasnt spewing insights, wasnt a bit pretentious, not at all. He just wanted easy conversation. Didnt want to think much. Hush the mind a bit.

It's something we don't consider until we're old, the way a person just wants a trouble-free existence. Fame and fortune's always hungry, and lots of work to feed. It doesn't soothe the spirit. Doesn't fill the holes. Friends do that and, according to Del, all his pals were dying. This was what he was muttering in his kitchen... all his goddam friends were gone.

"I've had good friends," he kept saying, "Very good friends." Then he'd get all quite, look at the floor, and just sit there, maybe have a coughing fit. (Cigarettes punched him in the chest, bruised his lungs, he never quite recovered. Nasty little cancer sticks god how much we love 'em.)

There was a cat, I think, but I don't remember seeing it. Maybe sleeping on the futon pushed into the corner of his bedroom. Maybe it was there, this black cat, stretched out among the crumbled mountain of covers, but I really don't recall. I couldn't imagine him taking care of anything. He had enough just taking care of Del.

He would show me clippings, obituaries. Some recently torn from local papers; others faded, nasty brown. This was what occupied his brilliance. Aging, spinning with the Earth, Del was reminiscing. He was sharing feelings with a stranger. Which probably made it easier, talking with a no-one-in-particular. Spilling your guts to someone that can walk away, close the door behind them, never to return...that's a poor man's therapy.

Or maybe he really liked me, felt a kinship, but I doubt it. He just needed an ear to burn. To confess that he was scared just like the rest of us: Of being all alone.

Sheila died over the weekend, Del would tell me, obituary in hand. (I think her name was Sheila.) She really wasn't old. Sheila a very talented actor from San Francisco. We use to work together. Then hed tape her obit to the dirty kitchen window. There were quite a few, taped there, and then forgotten.

The pot and I ask him all kinds of stupid shit. "How do you approach auditions? You go in a crazed, all worked up?" He'd just stared at me, answer with a growl of sorts, "You show up, do whatever the director wants, be professional. Thats all."

"Do you go in with an agenda?"

"Yeah get the fucking job."

The first time I met Del he was playing Polonius in "Hamlet" at Wisdom Bridge Theatre. It was 1985. I knew the legend that was Del Close, but not this man in front of me, sweating under the stage lights. He's giving this killer performance and I'm racking my brain, I know this guy! He's? He's? Someone, somebody goddam it. Damn, I know this guy...

That night, Del hitched a ride with us. He sat next to me and we talked a bit. He was gracious, very warm. Nothing suggested he was a comedy legend, Joseph Jefferson Award winner, one of the founders of Second City, the Improv Olympic, regular on "My Mother the Car" and "Get Smart," co-author of Truth in Comedy, yadda, yadda, yadda... he just seemed content, happy to get a ride, save the cab fare. That was it. No big shakes. Simple was the man.

My next encounter with the guru was at Crosscurrents. Thom Goodman was upstairs in his grubby office on the phone, trying to manipulate the media, sell more tickets, pay the bills, while all around him the orgy continued. It was shameful really: Chicago and comedy making-out. Tonguing one another anywhere they could. High school is what it felt like. In addition, there were all these improv students hanging out, watching, taking notes.

Behind the bar was the versatile Bridget Murphy. Shed go on to create "Millys Orchard Show." She tended bar but at night, hit the main stage doing a sort of burlesque whereby she dressed up as a greasy fat man telling raunchy jokes, and then stripped to reveal a sexy Playboy Bunny. Somebody's Daughters were running around half crazed, rehearsing "Bards, Broads and Sacrifice." Mick Napier was sitting at a table with his allies, talking "Metraform," while Andy Dick was jumping up and down, begging to be noticed. There was this slaphappy kid named Christopher Farley playing pinball in the hall. He was the most endearing clown that no one wanted to play with.

Del he was sitting at the end of the bar, smoking, coughing, lurking in the shadows. He shook my hand, offered me a cigarette. I took it, lit it, and drank a beer that tasted good.

I saw your show, 'Elmore and Gwen', he said, never looking up.

I was waiting to get my assed kicked. I was a writer from New York, came here looking for the comedy scene, and landed in the hornets nest. I wasnt one of them. I was going to get stung. So, I faked I didnt give a rats ass. What else was I to do?

He cleared his throat to mumble, "It was consistent."

"Uh huh," was all I said.

"It stayed the course. All your jokes were consistent with the genre. It was vaudeville very animated. I liked it."

Panic was dripping down the crack of my ass. I think they call that 'flop-sweat'. I told him, "Thanks, appreciated."

"Can you write me something next time?"

"Yeah."

Del was in my second review, "The TV Dinner Hour." To be honest, he got angry, had a fit about the gig. He wanted to be in a play, have a straight acting job. Del didnt realize I used improv for the bones of everything I worked on. The words came after I knew whom I was writing for, the glove that fits the hand.

"Wheres the script?" he asked me, standing all crooked, smoking under the Crosscurrents logo.

"No script. Youre the improv guru. Im going to use video. Just create a TV character, improvise your ass off. Youll run on a monitor above the stage. It'll be cool, you'll dig it."

"Jesus Christ I wanted your words."

"Just video and improv."

"Video? Youll destroy the medium."

He stormed off mumbling bastard and Nazi something-or-other. The sign above my head was swaying. Winter was coming. It was getting cold. A wino from across the street was pissing on the sidewalk. He looked up, gave me the finger. Thanks, I smiled back.

A week later Del cornered me in the bar, asking, "Can I do it stoned?"

"Anyway you want, man."

We shook hands. That was it. Done.

Peter Neville, videographer, took care of all the rest. Stoned and coughing up a fit, Del committed to video one of his best-recorded improvs: The Very Reverend Thing of the First Generic Church of Whats-his-name. It played on monitors overhead that channel-surfed until it landed on his bulbous face. Scruffy talented bastard, he almost stole the show.

The "TV Dinner Hour," directed by Amy McKenzie and featuring Megan Cavanagh, (now the voice of Jimmy Neutrons mom,) did alright, and pushed us into the arms of the sultry mistress, screwing like all the rest.

Sitting in his kitchen, I reminded him, "You called me a Nazi once."

He laughed, saying, "I meant it as a compliment."

Sure he did.

I showed up again, uninvited, but this time he didnt answer. I stood there waiting. I felt his eyes peeking from between the crusty curtains. He didnt want to talk. A squirrel was chewing on the railing that was rotting around his porch. Standing there was useless; the wizard wasnt coming out.

I walked across the street to Charna's place. I knocked and waited. She answered, let me in. Up the stairs to the second floor, I sat in her living room while she offered me a Coke. Her shaggy little dog just laid there on the floor. Goofy puppy had the life. It ate and slept better than most of Charna's students.

Thanks for introducing me to Stephen, she said. An eccentric friend, Kastner was a magnificent painter, and they were getting it on. Funky, dirty love. Everybody's doing it.

Sure I said back at her, sipping from my soda can.

"We've got a development deal in California, the Improv Olympic on network television. It might happen."

"Great."

She looked really tan and radiant. Striking. Younger than before. She was a happy Jewish girl.

A few weeks later, I was sitting in the gurus kitchen once again. When he greeted me at the door, he smiled, seemed pleased that I stopped in. Before I entered, I noticed that squirrel's drying carcass near the front porch. I think it should've munched on someone elses railing. The spirit of the house reached out and got him, or that cat I never saw.

In the kitchen, Del filled a jelly jar up with soda. He still lived like college. Actually, he lived as most of his students did: like characters out of "Animal House." This was what I was thinking as I sipped my Orange Crush, talked a little more.

"I'm losing weight," he told me. "Stopped eating a big breakfast. Im feeling pretty good."

"Cutting out a breakfast?"

"Stop the bacon and eggs."

"No shit?"

"My face is looking thinner. Better for the movie roles."

He looked better, healthier, but the hard life wouldnt stop punching him in the face. That's were you saw the swelling. In the eyes, you saw the scars, the battles, the spirit drifting to the surface, flipping him the bird shouldn't have partied all the time. Yeah whatever. Nazi bastards.

Del loved sporting "Wasteland," a somewhat autobiographical hodgepodge of stories for DC comics that he penned with John Ostrander. It was really twisted, folks. All messed up and psychedelic. Fun to look at while turning pages that almost got you high. I half expected my mother to walk in, scream at me for reading "trash." As a kid, it was something I would've discovered, hidden under the bed for late night reading. You know, it would've scared the boogeyman.

"We have something in common," he said, broke the silence.

"Oh yeah?"

"We both ran away with traveling shows."

"Sells and Grey," I told him.

"Dr. Dracula's Magic Horror Show," he countered.

"They had an elephant that still put up the big top."

"I was a fire-eater."

"Ventriloquist."

"Thats awful. I hate puppets."

"You and everybody else."

"I was only fifteen or so."

"Seventeen."

Then all you could hear was the constant ruffling of paper until he blurted out, chuckled, "Couldve been worse."

"How's that?"

"Could've been a mime."

Jesus, that'll get you killed."

"You bet."

He sighed, I sighed and we both went back to reading for a while.

The last time I saw Del was when his theater opened up on Clark Street. It was packed with all his students, friends, and other showbiz types. I pointed to the monitors high above the stage and said, "That'll destroy the medium."

Del didn't recall the conversation, and there wasn't time to remind him. But he was glad to see me, surprised me with this goofy smile. It's a look I'll carry with me, the final fading image, because I never talked to him again.

I was living in New York when Del got sick and died. March 4, 1999. He was only 64. I tore his obituary from the paper, taped it to my kitchen window. I wanted to say something, but there were other people much closer to the man.

When I returned to Chicago, I went by Dels house, saw another squirrel chewing on the railing. I picked a stone up and hurled it at the shabby thing. It wasnt fazed at all. It just stood up, looked at me sideways, as if saying, Piss-off, the guru doesnt live here anymore.