Out of Focus

The Return of the Birthday Post (My 6th Jack Benny Birthday)

Maybe the third time’s a charm. I mean for this post. I started it last night; restarted from scratch earlier this evening; and now as I get ready to close-out another birthday, I’ve started over once again. Why is it so hard? I can’t say.

The “birthday post” was long the one consistent and reliable mainstay of my little corner of the Interwebs, but then in 2014, even that didn’t happen. I posted nothing to this blog between Sept. 21, 2011 and Sept. 21, 2012, yet I managed to still take note of my birthday. I regained a bit of irregular momentum (Can I ™ that oxymoron? I love it!) in 2013, but all of 2014 passed by, and for the first time in this blog’s history, not a post – birthday or otherwise – exists to note that 2014 ever happened.

Failure.

My fidelity to the “birthday post” is odd, certainly to anyone who knows me well.

Continue reading “The Return of the Birthday Post (My 6th Jack Benny Birthday)”

UCLA Daily Bruin, “Out of Focus”: There goes Johnny — May 22, 1992: “The end of a late-night institution has arrived”

Only a dumb 20-year-old would have a photo like that and think it looks good. Also, can’t for the life of me explain the terrible copy editing, but the poor writing is definitely my fault.

The following was published on Friday, May 22, 1992 in the UCLA Daily Bruin precisely as transcribed below, as you can see in the blurry scan to the right.

Tonight’s the night. When the clock shows 11:35 p.m. the countdown begins and 60 minutes later, television will never be the same.

We won’t ever hear “He-e-e-e-re’s Johnny” again. We’ll no longer wonder if Ed gets bored just sitting on that couch. We’ll no longer laugh at Doc’s outlandish wardrobe. But most importantly, never again will we hear “We’ll be right back” from Johnny carson.

30 years is a long time. I’ve only been around for two-thirds of it. My parents were just beginning college. John Kennedy was President and Vietnam had not yet “officially” begun.” Julie Roberts wasn’t born and “60 minutes” wasn’t on the air.

Television was still a relatively new medium, and now 30 years later …. 30 years. He’s ruled the late-night airwaves. “The Cosby Show” just concluded an eight-year run and that’s an amazing achievement. But 30 years as the king! Alan Thicke couldn’t topple him. Merv couldn’t either. Neither could Dick or Joan. And Pat got laughed off the air. Arsenio’s taken a bite out, and the ratings aren’t what they once were, but “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson” was still the ruler. And no matter how good Leno is, when it finally becomes “The Tonight Show With Jay Leno” on Monday, it will never be the same.

I liken Johnny to George Burns and Bob Hope. The time has arrived and I still can’t imagine late night without Johnny. I can’t imagine a year without a Bob Hope special on NBC. I can’t imagine George Burns ever dying. It’s not that I rush to my TV every night around 11:30, and I haven’t actually watched a Bob Hope special for years, but I always knew they were there. Call it a type of television security — something to fall back on.

Carson’s achievement is simply amazing. He’s not the greatest stand-up comedian, and he’s not the greatest interviewer. Most of his various impersonations sound exactly alike, and his skits often bomb. But in fact, bombing was Carson’s greatest talent. No one gets out of a joke or a skit like Johnny. No one can make his failure funnier than the actual joke quite like Johnny can.

It all started Oct. 1, 1962. Back then the show was produced in New York, each program was 90 minutes long and up to seven guests would appear any one night. And Carson was actually the show’s third host after Steve Allen and Jack Paar.

Now he has the work week we’d all kill for: It’s the equivalent of the upcoming holiday weekend — three days long. Even through his three well-publicized divorces, he’s still a multimillionaire. And unlike virtually everyone on television, he wasn’t cancelled.

What is it about this man which captured millions of people’s attention every night? Why have so many people positioned the TV in order to perfectly see the screen between their feet?

Maybe the qualities which did make Johnny so compelling during his heyday in the ’70s and early ’80s are what we’ve seen in this final month of the show. It’s been kind of eerie hearing every night that he was leaving the air, they were “winding things down.” It was difficult to believe.

But unlike the responses I’ve seen from people on Carson’s staff the last month or so, it <i>has</i> been a different Johnny on the set, and the guests have definitely been in a different mood as well.

It’s simple actually — Johnny’s been having fun. It doesn’t look like he’s “working” anymore. He knows there’s only so much time left and he’s going to take advantage of it. The guests have been there more to say goodbye than to plug a movie or TV show, so they’re just having fun too.

Virtually everyone who has come through the past month — which has also been the first time in years that Johnny has shot <i>four</i> original shows in one week — has said what an honor it is to be asked on the show for the final stretch, or how much Johnny has meant to them. Michael Keaton, for instance, gushed about how on the plane to L.A. he told everyone he was going on “Carson” and he couldn’t believe he was invited. And Don Rickles actually was serious part of the time.

The best moment was probably also the shortest. David Letterman made his final appearance last week. As Johnny was saying thank you to all the guests who came, he got to Letterman who said “Thanks for having me.” Then as Carson continued down the couch, right as he was beginning to thank the next guest, Letterman said, “And thanks for my career.”

In a way, it was a touching moment, especially coming from the man who did not get the coveted “Tonight Show” position. But it’s true for so many people, especially comedians.

It’s still hard to believe. The guests have all come and gone. Tonight none are scheduled. It’s just Johnny and Ed and Doc. Reminiscing. And at 12:35 a.m., into the morning of May 23, Johnny will say goodbye. An institution will come to a close. This one TV safety net will no longer exist. They’ll never “be back” and there’s no “more to come.”

See ya later Johnny. It’s been fun.

An Appreciation for Susan Smith

"Aaron," yelled my boss. This was not unusual. Her dark, wood-paneled, windowless office was about 20 feet down the hall from my little nook that looked out onto San Vicente Blvd.

"Yes, Susan?" I called back.

"Come here, please." Also, not unusual. But once I got there, pad in hand: "Get your dad on the phone for me."

"Excuse me?" fumbled out of my mouth.

"I want you to get your dad on the phone for me now," she answered.

"Uhm … why?" Granted, I was only 23 years old, and I had never held a job as someone's assistant before, but I was still pretty sure such a request was at least a little unorthodox.

"I want to tell him something. Just get him for me," she said before taking a sip from the warm Diet Coke that had likely been sitting next to the large bottle of Advil for several hours.

I turned and walked back to my desk, passing Susan's other assistant who asked, "What did she want?"

As I sat and dialed, I uttered in disbelief, "She wants to talk to my dad."

Unfortunately, my father answered the phone, I explained to him that my boss wanted to speak with him for reasons unknown, and then I let Susan know he was on the line.

"Mr. Dobbs?" (Susan was nothing if not mannered with strangers.)

"Yes. Call me Stephen," I heard my father say as I gripped the phone tightly, covering the mouthpiece while I listened.

"Well, Stephen," she said, "I'm Susan Smith, and you know, your son Aaron has worked for me for the past year, and I just want you to know that I think he's extraordinary. He's so smart, and I just know he's going to be very important in this industry one day."

Susan Smith passed away on Saturday. As anyone who worked for her can tell you, she was not always the easiest person to answer to, but as dozens of Tweets and comments on this Deadline story show, lots of people admire and love her.

I had a complicated relationship with her precisely because of such conflicting feelings. I learned a lot from her and other times she drove me nuts. She went through assistants rapidly. During my 26-plus months as her senior assistant, I had nine junior assistants come and go. Their tenures spanned from six months to six hours, figures that are neither hyperbole nor poetic license. (The first person to work in Susan's office with me, was Julie Plec, who left for and continued to go on to much bigger and better things, becoming a very successful television writer and showrunner.)

Susan believed in and supported me probably more than any other person in my career, and certainly more than any other boss. Her faith in me, even when unhappy with something I may have done (key word: "may") always seemed to remain unblemished and unconditional. She knew I never had the desire to be an agent, and she repeatedly wrote glowing recommendations for me as I searched for new jobs in production or development.

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On the “Breaking Bad” finale – Walt didn’t win: Don’t forget Walter Jr.

(Obviously, spoilers present. 'Nuff said.)

The relationship between Walt and his son forms the primary foundation at the heart of "Breaking Bad." (Photo credit: Ursula Coyote/AMC)

I suppose I'm not surprised that many felt less satisfied with the "Felina" – excuse me, the finale – of Breaking Bad than I was. I've read tweets and posts that seemed even more enthusiastic; and others – including from huge fans of the series – who were obviously at least a bit disappointed. Many people have spent the past year or two proclaiming Breaking Bad as the greatest television show of all time due to its complexities and nuance. Yet now, their perceptions that the series wrapped itself up too neatly has led to dissatisfaction with its conclusion. Based on what I've read so far, most people imagine that since Walt's death seemed inevitable, there were only two possible resolutions: Walt would die redeemed, heroically; or Walt would get the comeuppance he deserved. And yet, that binary option seems to ignore that more complex and nuanced middle ground in which both may have occurred.

Linda Holmes, who writes NPR's "Monkey See" pop culture blog (a must read, in my book), expressed her own dissatisfaction with the episode stemming from her interpretation that ultimately Walt went out exactly as he wanted to, by his own design, allowing for his own megalomania. Even with his admission to Skyler that it was all for him – and not the family – and that "I liked it," decisions such as manipulating a method to pass along his money to his kids – thereby depriving them the choice of declining it – was neither loving nor kindhearted.

Willa Paskin described on Slate why the finale was unsatisfying to her, or at the very least left her conflicted: "After everything, after five seasons in which the writers were clocking Walt’s every misdeed, at the very end, they turned out to be Team Walt. Despite everything he did, Walt was rewarded—not with life, too much had gone down for that—but with a death on his own terms. He died having provided for his family, without going to jail or giving up on his legend."

I really enjoy reading both Holmes and Paskin, along with the A.V. Club's Donna Bowman and the throngs of other great writers expounding on Breaking Bad, and yet unmentioned in everything I've read is the one element that formed the heart of the entire series, which also happens to be the one area where Walt irrefutably had no control and did not "win": His relationship with his son Flynn, a/k/a Walter Jr.

Continue reading “On the “Breaking Bad” finale – Walt didn’t win: Don’t forget Walter Jr.”

Trusting Douglas Adams on the Importance of 42: The 10th Annual birthday post on my fourth Jack Benny birthday

I did something different this year before sitting
down to write this post: I read the previous nine. Since I began this blog in
Feb. 2004, I can only claim one constant: Without fail, on Sept. 21^st
of each year, I have written a post acknowledging, sometimes even celebrating
my birthday. That's something I do much less frequently in the non-digital
world, although this year, as I become 39 IV (or 42, that supposedly magical
age that is the answer to "Life, The Universe and Everything" according to noted philosopher Douglas Adams), my wife is
determined that we celebrate this day that marks my birth and recognizes my achievement in aging.

It's been quite a year, too, with some amazing highs, a few
discouraging lows, a bit of misery but also a lot of hope. Since I wrote last
year's birthday post – just shy of six weeks after getting married – we went on
our real honeymoon: Three weeks (give-or-take) to Australia and New Zealand, a
dream vacation that we desperately want to repeat if only because that is
nowhere near the proper amount of time to visit one of those countries, much
less both of them.

Then in April, after another lovely little vacation – this
one to Hawaii to celebrate my father's pending 70^th birthday – I
parted ways with my job at a previously mentioned, very important cultural
institution memorializing the tragic events of just over 12 years ago (that's
called anti-SEO language, FYI). This was an important occurrence of mutual necessity. As
I mentioned last year at this time, I wasn't feeling very much like me anymore;
I was pretty removed from everything I enjoyed doing, especially
professionally.

This summer has been challenging: I'm still looking for more
consistent work and trying to write a much more frequently. As I mentioned in what I guess
was my latest "Hey, I'm back" post, writing has become more difficult
for me than ever, but I continue to plow through, and I think I'm more
satisfied with most of the results. At least so far.

As I journeyed through the majority of the past decade revealed by
those first nine birthday posts, I was a little amazed at how well they
represent each of the periods of my life from which they sprang, sometimes more
subtly than others, but in ways that kind of astounded me. Just last year – in
an epic entry that subconsciously must have been due to my not having added
anything to this blog for the entire previous year – I wrote that "I never
intended to regularly use this space as a public diary." That was a very
true statement, and that intent hasn't really changed. But when I examine what
those nine entries represent, my intent obviously doesn't hold as much sway as
I would think.

The first birthday post, in 2004, was full of exuberance as
I turned 33. Ah, the worries and anxieties that show themselves over
the ensuing years as I got older; they all seem silly now, although only in
that I had them then, since so many likely remain. But it is somewhat amazing
how young 34, 35 and 36 seem when you're turning 42.

Dammit. I'm not carrying the Jack Benny mantle all that well
when I keep forgetting the appropriate public age.

Continue reading “Trusting Douglas Adams on the Importance of 42: The 10th Annual birthday post on my fourth Jack Benny birthday”

The oldest of them all: The history (and rivalry) between Showtime & HBO (thoughts spurred by a conversation with Showtime)

Each time I interview another cable network programming
head, the conversation gets my brain abuzzin' on larger stories among
the film and television landscape. As I planned for and spoke to David Nevins
for the third interview in this series at Indiewire, I kept thinking about
Showtime in relation to HBO, much more so than I did the reverse. Showtime regularly appears to be playing catch-up with its bigger, more powerful rival.
But over the last few years, especially as the competition for (as Nevins
calls it) "premium television" has expanded well beyond the premium
cable networks, the perception of that gap has begun to feel smaller.

Homeland's first season won the Best Drama Series Emmy last
year, and if not for the rabid excitement over Breaking Bad dominating
the television firmament, I would bet on it repeating. Ray Donovan, meanwhile,
has been another huge hit for Showtime, generating viewership upwards of 5
million (across all showings and platforms) each week, which approaches Game of
Thrones and True Blood territory.

I started thinking about the evolution of these rival
networks, both among the oldest channels in the cable universe. In fact, Home Box
Office – launched in 1972 – became the first cable network with national
distribution in 1975. But Showtime? ESPN, CNN and MTV: All three were
established and appeared on cable boxes after Showtime, in 1979, 1980 and 1981
respectively. Cable systems around the country began carrying Showtime in 1978,
less than two years after its 1976 launch. That national reach was only bested
by Ted Turner who created his "superstation" WTBS (at the time a
local Atlanta station called WTCG) in Dec. 1976 by beaming it via satellite to
still evolving local cable providers.

At the time, the cable universe was small. I remember our
first cable box around 1980 had a lever that slid horizontally with numbers
going up to 13 (mimicking the VHF stations) and then switching to letters A
through Z. We didn't have 39 channels to start, but I remember all the over-the-air
stations moving to that 1-13 spectrum and cable-only networks being in the
letters. Channel 44? You're now channel 12. (As my Brady Bunch station, that
was pretty important.) Channel 36 from San Jose? Hello San Francisco; we could
now see it on channel 6. (For what it's worth, I wouldn't put money on these
lineup memories … other than KBHK-44 definitely became channel 12!)

Cable provided better reception and a guarantee of never
having to worry about your antenna. Plus, some public access stations developed
along with regional broadcasters. And then there was HBO and Showtime.

Continue reading “The oldest of them all: The history (and rivalry) between Showtime & HBO (thoughts spurred by a conversation with Showtime)”

The changing landscape of cable channels & their programming (thoughts spurred by a conversation with Sundance Channel)

In the second of my interviews with cable network
programming heads for Indiewire, I spoke with President and
General Manager of Sundance Channel, Sarah Barnett. Sundance Channel made noise earlier this year with
the premiere of Jane Campion's limited series Top of the Lake and the
six-episode first season of Rectify. Both received a great deal
of critical love, and while to date Sundance has not been in the practice of
releasing its ratings (something that will change as of Sept. 30 when they
transition to a more traditional ad-supported model), Rectify obviously
accomplished the necessary goals as it will be returning for a 10-episode
second season next year.

I was most interested in Barnett's thoughts about Sundance
Channel's identity, especially in relation to its name since it no longer has
any direct relationship to Robert Redford, the Sundance Film Festival nor the
Sundance Film Institute. The discussion also got me thinking about the larger
cable landscape and the overall idea of niche programming. In the 1990s as the
cable universe began expanding, almost every new channel served a very distinct
purpose and targeted very specific demos. Certainly, many cable channels
continue to do so. The various Scripps Networks (Food Network, DIY, HGTV) and
several of the Discovery channels (Animal Planet, Discovery Fit & Health,
Military Channel) are probably the best examples, but MTV is far from the only
network that seems to have strayed for from its original, narrower mission.

Examining a few of the names of a number of channels across
the cable landscape provides the simplest example at how many have rebranded in
an attempt to distance themselves from their original niche programming.

AMC originally stood for "American Movie Classics," which is precisely what they showed – uncut, unedited movie classics. Then they lost a huge chunk of their library licensing to Turner Classic Movies and were forced to change course. Now, they're a leader in the new form of series television and they rarely get truly "classic" in their movie selection.
TLC (owned by Discovery) was "The Learning
Channel," but I'm not sure what there is to learn from Toddlers and Tiaras or its even more popular offspring Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.
Their programming now focuses completely on manufactured "reality"
shows with an emphasis on fashion, weddings, pregnancy and family stories.
The History Channel never changed its name, and certainly
its first steps towards scripted programming (their first series Vikings,
which returns next year for a second season as well as the miniseries The
Bible and Hatfields & McCoys) seem to have tried to stay within a
historical focus. However, achieving the most success for the channel have been
shows such as Pawn Stars, Ax Men, American Pickers and Ice
Road Truckers.
A&E always lived by those initials but originally they
originally were shorthand for the "Arts & Entertainment Network."
Originally, it's programming resembled what one might find on PBS – some
British TV and performing arts specials – as well as reruns of some popular
primetime series. Eventually, the "arts" part of A&E diminished
significantly and its stable focused more on reality series like Dog
the Bounty Hunter and crime documentary shows like The First 48. Their
biggest hit now – and arguably the most successful show on all of television,
not just cable – is Duck Dynasty, a reality series about a family from Louisiana
that became millionaires due to their duck call for duck hunters.
The TV Guide Channel has little to do with TV Guide anymore,
and while E! Entertainment Television still contains an entertainment news
posture, its bread and butter comes from celebrity-focused reality shows,
especially those centering around the Khardashians,

And of course, there's IFC, which began its life as The
Independent Film Channel. When it launched in 1994, independent film – unedited
and uncut – was what they broadcast. By 1994, the indie film explosion was
reaching its peak. The Sundance Film Festival and many of the films and
filmmakers premiering there had received mainstream attention, especially among
college-aged audiences: Steven Soderbergh's Sex, Lies, and Videotape in
1989; Reginald Hudlin's House Party, Whit Stillman's Metropolitan
and Norman René's Longtime Companion in 1990; Richard Linklater's Slacker and Todd Haynes's
Poison
in 1991; and arguably the breakout
year of 1992 which featured Allison Anders's Gas, Food Lodging, Tom
DiCillo's Johnny Suede (starring a now-famous from Thelma & Louise Brad
Pitt), Neal Jimenez & Michael Sternberg's The Waterdance, and most notably,
Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs.

Continue reading “The changing landscape of cable channels & their programming (thoughts spurred by a conversation with Sundance Channel)”

Is the “Third Golden Age of Television” the new ’90s Indie Film phenomenon? Let’s talk to some cable execs and find out!

Perry SImon of BBC America

What a great way to start a (Jewish) New Year: For some time now, I've been working on putting together a series of interviews with cable network programming heads for Indiewire. Today, they published the first of these: my chat with BBC America General Manager Perry Simon.

As I write in the intro to the Perry Simon interview, BBC America has made a huge splash in the original programming arena in just the past 18 months. They've gone two-for-two with Copper and Orphan Black, receiving plaudits from both critics and audiences. They seem to be at the tip of the iceberg with Orphan Black, which built a steady fanbase during its initial broadcast, but should see a major audience uptick when the second season hits in the spring due to all the notoriety it – and its phenomenal and talented star Tatiana Maslaney – has received in the months since its first run. Simon described BBC America's approach as "very auteur oriented," so it should be fascinating to see what kinds of series the channel presents next.

Eight years ago, I regularly conducted interviews for Gothamist, which always comprised several questions I asked everyone along with another set of questions tailored specifically for that subject. I've approached this series the same way. I have a few other interviews completed or scheduled; they should be published over the coming weeks, and I continue arranging more.

I raised this idea with Indiewire TV Editor Alison Willmore not long after she established the site's television coverage, but I didn't have the time to work on it then. Television has gone through such a shift over the past decade, and I thought it coincided with, and arguably benefited from, the end of the 1990s indie film explosion.
At the 1989 Sundance Film Festival, Steven Soderbergh's first feature Sex, Lies, and Videotape became the Big Bang of a new era for independent film that peaked by the mid-1990s. But by the turn of the millennium, "independent film" described a perceived – often artificial – aesthetic much more than it did a form or method of production.

Continue reading “Is the “Third Golden Age of Television” the new ’90s Indie Film phenomenon? Let’s talk to some cable execs and find out!”

Context and Peter Bogdanovich’s magnificent “Targets”

My transformation from casual movie enthusiast to full-blown cinema addict occurred during the summer of 1989, between my 1st and 2nd years of college. Clichés exist because of their inherent truths, so it should come as no surprise that my entry into this obsessive world occurred while working at a Blockbuster Video in San Francisco.

I was still primarily a theater snob at the time, but that changed that summer. The store had this huge catalog listing all the movies "in print" on video, and one section was organized by director. When I wasn't at work, I was watching movies, taking full advantage of the six VHS tapes I could have out for free at any one time. I worked my way down the lists and discovered Wilder and Sturges, Ford and Kazan, Lumet and Scorsese and so many more.

Before my Blockbuster tenure, my foreign-cinema exposure was mostly limited to lyrics from the song "Manchester, England" in the musical Hair: "Finds that it's groovy/to hide in a movie/Pretends he's Fellini/And Antonioni/And also his countryman Roman Polanski/All rolled into one." I knew those names, but I hadn't yet seen any of their films.

I enjoyed watching a filmmaker's work in chronological order, so I watched Boxcar Bertha and A Tree Grows in Brooklyn before I ever got to Taxi Driver or On the Waterfront. And so about midway through that summer, I decided to embark on Peter Bogdnovich, and rather than start with The Last Picture Show, I took home Targets.

I don't remember much from that viewing nearly 25 years ago, and until The Dissolve picked Bogdanovich's debut feature as last week's "Movie of the Week," I'm not sure I had ever considered watching it again. Once I did, I was first struck by how well I actually remembered it; how so many scenes vividly stuck with me all these years later. I could not reconcile that whatever impact it had on me nearly 25 years before was an unconscious one, and now I felt floored by this young filmmaker's astounding love-letter to cinema and Hollywood; one of the best I've ever seen.

My appreciation for Targets is grounded in a reality that didn't exist when I was barely 18 years old — for me or for the world. The contextual lens through which I now saw it made all the difference. Now I know much more about Boganovich and his career. Now I know much more about the history of American cinema and the important role of low-budget horror films to its development. Now, I see how a film that was shot as the Vietnam War was dominating the nation's consciousness and was released within four months of the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Bobby Kennedy is such a representative document of its time. Enhance this context even further simply by paying attention to 2013 when the physical medium of film nears extinction, drive-in theaters are (mostly) long-gone and gun culture and terrorism are at the forefront of the national conversation, Targets becomes even more astounding in ways that couldn't have been anticipated when it was made, let alone in 1989.

Continue reading “Context and Peter Bogdanovich’s magnificent “Targets””

One-year married, and one wedding announcement revised

I probably spend too much time marking milestones. I often attribute significance to dates, especially when I'm able to choose both the event and the date. For instance:

Jan. 1, 1995: Quit smoking once and for all.
Oct. 23, 1996: Left L.A. and moved to New York.
Feb. 26, 2004: First post on this blog.

But one year ago today on Aug. 12, 2012, I marked the most important milestone — at least of my adult life — for on that day, I legally and officially became the luckiest guy in the universe as I got to marry the best person I've ever met. (For what it's worth, that meeting occurred on Jan. 08, 2010, and we got engaged on Dec. 13, 2011 … see? I like dates.)

Last year, I intended to post about my pending marriage. Then, once I hadn't, I meant to write about the wedding that was. But between the pre-event scrambling, the mini-moon that followed and the return to all-consuming work after, I simply didn't get around to it.

So as our first anniversary approached, it seemed only appropriate to celebrate in this space. We had an amazing wedding, on a virtually perfect day with sunny skies, comfortable temperatures and barely any humidity, all important qualities for an outdoor ceremony alongside a peach orchard.

As we considered locations, we realized we wanted a place that could be more than just a wedding venue to us; someplace that we would want to visit again in the future but not because we were married there. Rather, we wanted a place that would become a part of our lives; where we could return year-after-year with our family. That this place was the location of our wedding would become a secondary bonus. So with that in mind, what could be better than a pick-your-own-fruit orchard?

Continue reading “One-year married, and one wedding announcement revised”