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Neither Chocolate Nor a Cheeseburger!

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Dear Juliet Well, this is what it is : From: james.christie466@btinternet.com To: info@carmelitesistersbythesea.org Sent: Wednesday, May 27th 2026, 22:27 Subject: Prayer request for my dearest friend, Juliet Landau Dear Reverend Mother and Sisters, Juliet Rose Landau God be with you. To explain as concisely as possible, my name is James Christie and I am autistic. In 2010, I crossed America overland by Greyhound bus with the backing of the National Autistic Society Scotland in order to meet Hollywood actress Juliet Landau on Sunset Boulevard and also to visit Point Lobos. The book detailing these events is called Dear Miss Landau , and tells some of our story. Juliet became more than just an actress to me, and she's had some tough times recently. I am trying to support her, and in doing so told her that I regularly light a candle for her at my own church. This seems to comfort her. I had hoped we could conceivably revisit Point Lobos someday (specifically Gibson beach) but it may n...
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A Country of Ice Cream, a Copper Lamp of Crap Design...

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Dear Juliet I'd like to buy you an ice cream! Not Ben & Jerry's, admittedly. In The Way We Were , Hubbell Gardiner's first novel was called  A Country Made Of Ice Cream . Maybe that's where I got the idea from. I was going to joke about going to London, not mention the Carmelite Monastery or the Point, but I don't think I'm going to do that now. I really like Gibson beach and a pivotal part of  Drusilla's Roses  is set right there. The  sky above the bay's the brightest blue I ever did see. S urf rolls and sparkles like a liquid diamond sea, light's etched hard on the rocks to the lee . Sure I'd like to go back. I never visited the monastery or the Carmel Mission either, and I'd like to do that, too. If America's made of ice cream, Monterey County's a confection of cookie dough! For now, though, there's another Lady Chapel in Southwark Cathedral, renamed the Retro Choir , and instead of bantering about being blown up by unexpl...
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Southwark, Pastrami and the Self Preservation Society!

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Dear Juliet I'd better not think about pastrami and rye, time's passing by... I'll be in London 15th-16th June, back in Shifnal on the 17th and back in London again 18th-19th June. I'd originally booked to go to a book launch on the 15th, then decided to attend the Society of Authors' (SoA) big summer blowout at Southwark Cathedral on the 18th. London hotel prices are so lethal it's probably best to go home midweek, then return. No, I'm probably not being very logical, but I've booked myself in at two separate shoeboxes and I can check Henry Pordes for Donna Tartt. I'll also see if I can access my blog via my smartphone. Everything should be fine although the government may fall on the 18th if Andy Burnham wins the by-election and Keir Starmer resigns . Unlikely, but... Do not worry, everything should be fine. As well as the SoA, I'm a charter member of the Self Preservation Society ! On the other hand, perhaps it's about time to tell you tha...
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The Land of Milk and Honey

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Dear Juliet I was going to update you on my next London trip, try to be logical and competent (15th-19th June 2026, by the way); then I think I saw you'd been reading about Point Lobos again. I'd love to go back to the Point. I stayed at the Hyatt in 2023 but hung out in Monterey in 2024, took the bus down to the edge of town and walked back to Gibson beach. I saw the Carmel Mission Basilica ( founded 1771 ) over my shoulder from the bus, sloped around the old Chevron filling station and set off along California Highway 1. I remember seeing the Carmelite Monastery in the hills , and the surf on Monastery beach. And for a' that, I think I heard you singing down the wire while Dru walked quietly with me. There was some school or other further along the way, and in its grounds the remains of an old jalopy. Either used by paisanos on the farm or driven across from Oklahoma during the days of the Great Depression, in search of the land of milk and honey. I'd just seen the B...
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I'm Not Perfect!

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Dear Juliet I had a not-particularly-great night last night, with too many Jelly Babies and too little concentration on Star Trek IV and my co-ordination. I feel a little frowzy this morning although I never get a hangover. In fact, it looks like I inherited my father's allergy to alcohol. I can't actually drink much or my liver starts telling me "the engines cannae take it" , as Scotty would say. I've got to do five calls tonight, and am considering crying in a layby. So I just thought I'd mention I'm not perfect either. I eat too many biscuits and I don't want to take exercise any more. I've made plenty of mistakes in the past and will make more in the future. Such is life. Just thought I'd say so. In fact, when I first met you, I certainly thought you were the world's best actress, a great beauty and Hollywood royalty, but I never thought you were perfect either. I liked you for who and what you were. I might be a bit late back tonight....
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Steinbeck and the Shoe...

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Dear Juliet Regarding a certain State Reserve in Steinbeck country, I thought I'd just make passing mention of a brief and personal thought, quiet and beneath your ken. Not a mote in God's eye nor anyone else's. Something like: "Though about Point Lobos, pity it cannot be," and add a link to Perry Como's Impossible ... Oh, look and see ! But I think I understand that a daughter of narcissists always believes that love is conditional, that the other shoe is forever poised to drop if you're not always perfect. That at any moment, I could turn into some sort of violence-crazed maniac bent on revenge like Dr. Evil if I didn't get my way. So I thought I'd take a risk and simply say: No, I won't. I'm just sad it's impossible. That you weren't able to see the view from the Hyatt, walk past Brad Pitt's place, sit on that petrified log and have a pastrami and rye sandwich with me. I'm sorry you didn't sit on Drusilla's beach...
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Fine and Forensic Words Not For Sale!

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Dear Juliet I think you're happier and I think you're getting into a good place so I'll just once again say: You were always worth it, and the thing is, I always enjoyed going to see you even if it meant standing outside for an hour in the freezing rain! I liked you as you were, not as some impossible ideal but as an actress from Hollywood who was "kind, sweet, sensible and shy." ( Dear Miss Landau ) I liked trudging around Glasgow with wet snow leaking between my toes looking for a present for you. I even liked you more than Kirk liked Spock, which is saying something. P.S. You don't need to call me Admiral, you can call me Jim . In Jimmy , Stewart mentions that someone said to him, "being famous is like being a God." I don't think you're a God, I think you are my dear Miss Landau. You mean the world to me, and that's not for sale. I remember going to Point Lobos and wishing you were there, and I remember (metaphorically speaking) steal...
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