OK so here we are in Beautiful Downtown Hill City South Dakota. "Beaverbrook" premieres on Saturday at 1pm, local time, here at the Black Hills Film Festival.

I flew in to Rapid City, SD yesterday and the airport's simplicity is quite confusing to a city boy like me. The baggage claim was a direct and easy 30 second walk from the jetway, one and only one carousel.

The drive into Rapid City and then through the Black Hills was stunning. Though grey overcast and rainy, this is clearly beautiful country. Rapid city has a life size bronze statue of a U.S. President on every street corner. While taking a photo of President Clinton, a passerby spat on him. I wanted to point out to that local kook that Clinton was a two-termer, but thought it might start a riot here in a red state.

I lunched at Sanford's Grub and Pub where the menu is HUGE! (see photo) No kidding. Everyone here is very friendly and the waitress at Sanford's was no exception; she offered to wash my car.

Arriving in Hill City at 4:30pm, I napped for about an hour and then hit the Alpine inn for dinner. One item on the menu: bacon wrapped fillet mignon (6oz or 9oz) with iceberg wedge, potato and Texas Toast. I opted for the 6oz and the bill, including dessert was $14.00. It's the nicest place in town.

FILM FEST NEWS FLASH!!: I received a call from Janna, the president of the film festival at about 8pm. She invited me to pick up my film maker information packet and press a little pre-festival flesh at the Harley Daividson screening room. A two minute drive from the Holiday Inn Express and I was there. It is a very nice facility and serves double duty as the VIP room for VIPs. In order to get to the VIP registration table, you have to buy a motor bike; brilliant marketing ploy.

I met some other bigwigs and picked up my packet, said goodnight and made my way back to the H.I. It snowed overnight.

I am on my way to the day's seminars at the Crazy Horse Memorial visitors' center.

OPENING GALA-Nice place this Utah

Okay, okay first of all, I stand corrected: Wayne Newton is not "Mr. Entertainment", he is "Mr. Las Vegas". And the Opening Night Gala of DocUtah held at the spectacular Tuacahn outdoor amphitheater was the perfect venue to screen "Wane Newton: A Native American Legend" a feature documentary about Mr. Las Vegas himself.

I didn't know what to expect not being a big Wayne Newton fan. The film, narrated by Mr. Newton, is about his life in and out of show business. It is also about the preparation of his 50 acre ranch just outside Las Vegas, Casa de Shenendoa, into a living museum and tribute to him and his legacy, similar to Elvis's Graceland (Elvis is King! Forever the King! Hail the King! King, King, King!).

The big difference here between Graceland and Casa de Shenendoa, is that Mr. Las Vegas is living and in residence at the Casa. But that is where the differences, particularly in taste and style, stop.

This film is about a living legend, a man about whom I knew very little. But now I have learned that Wayne Newton is a very down to earth man with a huge heart who is committed to his family and friendships first above all. He is also very committed to animals, veterans, his collections of fancy cars and memorabilia and Casa de Shenendoa.

This film is an excellent documentary, everyone should see it.

The evening took an interesting turn after the screening with a live performance by Mr. Las Vegas himself who came riding on stage in a tuxedo on an Arabian horse. His show was a full 90 minutes of nonstop songs, stories, cute jokes and retrospective TV and news clips of Mr. Newton. He is a riveting entertainer in the true Las Vegas style, a style that has fallen by the wayside as the newer shows have come along.

Wayne Newton is certainly the only living and performing connection to the Las Vegas strip of yesteryear who has enjoyed continued stardom and popularity. You can see it in his show and in his film. I don't know if it was the dry air of the outdoor venue or just the years, but Mr. Las Vegas was not singing in his best voice last night. But by golly it didn't matter; just like Frank and others before him, when Wayne might not hit the note, his charisma takes him past the note, babe.

The Gala was a great and I got to meet dozens of other film makers and local supporters of the DocUtah film festival. Many of those attending the pre-show mixer were those who had chosen Beaverbrook after screening the hundreds of films submitted to DocUtah. I was very surprised to meet many fans of "Beaverbrook". Heartwarming indeed. Photos tomorrow, I swear!

DocUtah-The Huckster Begins

Well folks, I don't have any photos to publish just yet but I did get a tour of the Dixie State College campus here in St. George Utah with my tour guide Jordan. Golf carting all the way, we passed out "Beaverbrook" post cards to every single student we could get to listen to us.

We must have passed out nearly 200 cards and each student seemed to actually be interested in coming to see the 100 free films featured at DocUtah; well free for DSC (Dixie State College) faculty and students. And by the time we parted ways Jordan was "Huckstering" Beaverbrook just as well as any 45 year old film maker who'd had too much coffee.

The campus is quite nice and I promise to have photos tomorrow.

Right now I must prepare for the opening night Gala where as VIP I will get to meet Mr. Entertainment himself, Wayne Newton. No kidding! Better change out of these sweat soaked clothes.

We screen Sunday Monday and Tuesday!

I really love the Black Hills Film Festival and the people of Hill City, South Dakota.

Just tuning in? Me too.

Well, I never intended to turn back , but now just to have said it, there is no turning back.

Just this past weekend we recorded some of the music for "As we march along" the one-hour documentary I'm making about Camp Beaverbrook. I was delighted to hear the wonderful renditions of some of our favorite camp songs performed by hot jazz musicians which brought tears to the eye, not just for me but for my wife Rhys as well.

So yes, my friends, the obsession still has me in its clutches. It has been 25 years since I have plucked the guitar before a captive audience of paying campers up on Cobb Mountain, and it seems like I've never left, especially now that summer is here and I'm visiting with all the old Beaverbods.

April my line producer and I will likely be finished shooting by the end of August when the editing will begin. We already have many counselors and campers who have agreed to be interviewed. Shown here is Cheryl "Breezy" Woher and the back of the head of yours truly at some hotel in Sacramento. She was a natural and for the most part Beaverbods have been coming out of the woodwork now that word of the film is going strong.

Take a look at this photo my fellow Beaverbods. Are you in there? It was taken back in 1985 at Camp Beaverbrook's 25 year anniversary, just a few short months before Bob "Amee" Brown passed away. His passing, along with the deterioration of the site, the change in air quality due to local geo-thermal mining, and a massive and untimely hydrogen peroxide spill in Kelsey creek, led to the merging of Camp Beaverbrook with Snow Mountain Camp in 1986 to produce Camp Beaverbrook at Snow Mountain, a disatrous and unsucessful union lasting but one summer.
The energetic and clever Beaverbods were no match for the lethargic and dim witted mouth breathers of Snow Mountain. The partnership was dissolved and Beaverbrook was no more.

Getting ready for Camp

Last week the forms came in the mail and Mom put left them on the desk in the corner of the kitchen. I filled them out as soon as I got home from school that day and walked down to Piedmont Ave. and mailed them myself. Today the reply came from the camp office and I got into the water ski program AND whitewater rafting. I am thrilled but not too surprised, it's my fourth summer as a CILT since I was a year early getting started so I have seniority even over the seventeen and eighteen year-olds.
These last few weeks of school are treacherous! The time goes so slowly. But lunch today I had fifteen blissful minutes with Rebecca Moss so that time flew by. Rebecca confessed something huge-she's only going to the prom with John Walker because Leslie Uggins, Rebecca's best friend, is going with Todd Connor, John Walkey's best friend. John Walkey is a big jerk, he punched Alex Freeman in the nose last month. Walkey got suspended for a day and Alex was okay, his nose didn't even bleed.