James IS a Rockstar.

That's right...like a motherf@#%$¢ he is. Just a few weeks ago,
I had the pleasure of inducting JC into this club:
The Commercial Editorial Rockstar Club.
It was sweet.
He got up at the crack of dawn - 4:45 am. Got himself all the way out to...you guessed it...the sweet-ass Oakland International Airport. He then charmed his way on to the 7am Southwest flight to LAX. Southwest man! And the flight attendants were wearing shorts - hot. Landed at 8:15am, took a pee and right into the cab with the cramped backseat, shot up Lincoln in no time. Pulled into CO3 for a telecine session with none other than...you guessed it...Mike "The Pimp Daddy" Pethel. Blessed to be in his presence. Worked all day checking scenes and tried not to fall asleep. Ordered up some fine chicken, noodles and vegies. Ordered a half fat Americano(what did you call me?) from a fine CO3 employee. This is living. Tried not to fall asleep with a post lunch telecine coma("So what are you driving now Mike?). Crossed off the last shot on the list, grabbed the Digies. Jammed out of there, jumped in the rental with clients in tow(Genovese and Mumtaz) and raced down Lincoln(driven recklessly by yours truly). We split lanes to catch an early Southwest flight back to NorCal. JC took a risk and went standby - hardcore man. Who do we run into getting on the same flight...you guessed it James "SumBitch" Horner and Dave "Stoli" Stolberg - Rock N Roll Hall of Fame Baby! We took off at 6:45pm and got some cocktails and no dinner at 30,000 feet. Before we knew it the tires screeched down on the OAK runway - home baby! But this righteous day was not over, no siree. Waiting curbside was...you guessed it...a car service. JC and I piled in and were whisked away to dump the Rockstar off at his crash pad, 9pm. A 14 hour day with 7.5 hours of commuting, noodles and lattes, taxi and Chevy Malibu rides, and Heineken in a can in mid-air!!!
You done good dawg. You rocked it!