Day 9: Last, And Least.

Okay, make it TWO quality shows playing in New York… That, by the way, is literally across the street from the theater where Clybourne Park is playing… Well, this is it – time to get back to work. Tomorrow I’m in LA. Who knows how to unbraid cornrows?

Day 8: I Plug A Kickass Play.

The fact that Ghost, the crappy chick-flick from way back when is now a musical on Broadway is a tragedy on par with human trafficking. Okay… slight exaggeration.

Oh Broadway, remember when you didn’t target tourists with such nonsense? Like the classic play A Raisin in the Sun. If you recall, there’s a scene in which the black family puts a down payment on a house in Chicago’s Clybourne Park neighborhood, and gets a visit from a sniveling character named Karl Lindner, representing the white folks in the area and making a generous offer to buy them out.

Playwright Bruce Norris borrowed Karl (that’s Karl, sitting above) and put him in his play Clybourne Park, and Bruce wound up winning a Pulitzer Prize. Then three weeks ago, he won the Tony for best play.

He wrote it in two acts, the first taking placing in 1959, as Karl shows up at the house in Clybourne to confront the white couple selling it, then shifts 50 years ahead to the same house, with the same actors from act I now playing new roles as modern-day, miserable, trendy assholes, and we see that racism has come full circle and then taken another lap or two out of political correctness.

The play is awesome. And sitting by me in the audience and loving it as much as me was Eric Stonestreet from “Modern Family.” Trust both of us and see it.

Day 7: New York Stuff.

July 4th. A time to honor the incredible freedom your forefathers bestowed upon you – to rat out your neighbor… Went out to a place called Bar Taco last night, which turned out to a retrospective on the male ponytail… From an article in yesterday’s NY Times about Mets’ minor leaguer Brandon Nimmo: “Under a clear sky so big, on some days Nimmo could see across the plains for 40 miles in any direction from his home outside Cheyenne, Wyo. For all that he could see before, Nimmo had never seen a couple argue in public before he moved to Brooklyn this month.”

Day 6: My Favorite Place On Earth: An iPhone™ Photo Gallery.

My second photo gallery sequel in three days? You bet. But this is the Stadium. It cost $1.3 billion to build, and I’m gonna blog my money’s worth. I did a Blackberry gallery three years ago, and here’s one with I shot with the iTelephone:

I was supposed to talk business with some folks in LA yesterday morning, but it kept getting pushed back until I finally joined them from arguably the coolest spot a conference call has ever taken place.

Billy Martin was a belligerent drunk who was fired as Yankee manager five times – once for getting into a brawl with a marshmallow salesman at a bar in Minnesota. But that didn’t stop some woman next to me from spreading her husband’s ashes on Billy’s plaque in Monument Park.

I liked that the Hard Rock Café at the Stadium featured photos of rock and hip-hop stars sporting Yankee caps onstage.

I also liked that the beefy police chick guarding the entrance to the Hard Rock was sporting a shiner.

My buddy Ted and I had been great friends from the first day of kindergarten until last night, when Ted, a big-time banker with a lot of pull, went down to the field before the game and met my favorite Yankee ever – Paul O’Neill – and I didn’t.

Day 5: Just When I Thought I Was Out.

A casting director wanted me to audition for a movie in LA yesterday. I told him I couldn’t make it, so he asked if I could put the audition on tape, which I did, with the help of my little brother filming and reading opposite me. Luckily, the role is for an outdoorsy guy, because when I leave Los Angeles, the razor ain’t coming with me… Here’s something you may not have read on a Snapple cap: New York City gets more rain than Seattle, and it’s been happening on/off here every day, with thunder that makes the ground shake. It can be miserable, so I’m applying to trademark the phrase: “Los Anjealous”… Anyone catch “The Newsroom” on HBO? It’s so amazing, it makes it kinda hard to believe that Aaron Sorkin and the producer of “Real Housewives” are both made of the same biological elements.

Day 4: Return To Stew Leonard’s: An iPhone™ Photo Gallery.

Sometimes I think I lost something really important to me, and then it turns out I already ate it.

Back at Christmas, I posted a photo gallery of Stew Leonard’s, the Most Interesting Supermarket in the World, dedicated to helping folks in Connecticut commit all seven deadly sins in a one-stop shop. My mom and I went back:

 

Now that it’s summer, the petting zoo was open, and Gertie and Tarzan the sheep were going full wool coat in the super-high temps. (There was all kinds of lint in Tarzan’s sheep-fro.) Luckily, Stew’s has a big shearing demonstration coming up.

 

Two things Connecticut does best: white people, and legal fireworks.

They even cater to you hypochondriacs.

 

The Farm Fresh Five’s got soul, in the form of a hip, chocolate-milk drummer.

Framed on the wall: Stew Leonard receiving the President’s Award for Entrepreneurial Achievement. Not framed: Stew being sentenced to 52 months in jail for committing tax fraud by diverting $17 mil in cash receipts. He quickly pulled a Madoff, denying any involvement by his family, and put Stew Jr. in charge. We customers were too busy stuffing our faces to care.

Purchases, clockwise from left: sliced sour dough bread, challah, two bags of kettle-style potato chips, vegetable egg rolls, pork pot stickers, two orders of lobster rolls, crab cakes, chicken pot pie, wonton soup, Greek yogurt, watermelon, half dozen fresh corn, chocolate-drizzled shortbread cookies, chewy pecan chocolate clusters, apple pie, flying saucers (I ate two on the drive home), turkey/swiss-cheese croissants, chicken parmesan loaf, chicken sweet-apple sausage, Chinese ribs, turkey meatloaf.

Day 3: The Earliest Known Photo Of The Shevin Brothers.

Me, on the left, going through my Angus Young stage; Andrew, wearing pants that are some sort of cry for help; and Trevor, understandably shell-shocked after passing through our mother’s vagina.

Day 2: I Go On Vacation And A Graduation Breaks Out.

Thursday night, my little brother was the valedictorian of his grad school class. And me? I bring nothing to the table.

I’m proud of him not only for busting his ass and finishing at the top of his class, but for delivering a great speech, and even more so for having a large group of friends who wrangled together a really nice congratulatory surprise party. Well done, bro.

Day 1: I Make Like A Tree, And Get Out Of Here.

Kickass celebrity sighting: Dino Stamatopoulous. He plays Star-Burns on “Community,” but way more impressive are his writing credits, which include “The Ben Stiller Show,” “Mr. Show,” Letterman, Conan, and SNL. I think Dino would agree that the seat cushioning at LAX Terminal 3 has gotta be imported directly from the Department of Corrections… Just heard you’re allowed to punch adults that carry pillows onto airplanes. Is this true?... Personally, I never sleep on planes. I don’t wanna get “incepted.”

In Which I Visit The Old Neighborhood.

Like a concierge’s phone leaving Russell Crowe’s hand, I am flying into New York today.

I’ve been busting my ass doing a lot of writing lately, and could use a break. Mostly, I’m going to see the Yankees play spend quality time with my mom, and will be there for ten days. I’ll blog the entire time I’m in NY, so look forward to entries featuring the pungent stench of urine. Talk soon.

Real Casting Notices I’ve Seen This Week.

• TATTOO YOU REGRET? LOOKING TO REDO YOUR TATTOO OR HAVE REMOVED? THEN WE WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU!!!!! There are many instances where a decision made can haunt you for the rest of your life. EXAMPLES Crazy ex-relationships Drunken dares College mistake Flash art lost it’s flare? Wish it were still the days when tribal tattoos were cool? Did you find out what that kanji (Japanese) symbol on your shoulder actually means? Are you a prude with a tramp stamp? Find out those nautical stars on your forearms was not as original as you thought it was? Gang Tattoos (looking to remove?)

• Gay James Franco Types

• Do you have a secret life that some of your closest family, friends and co-workers know nothing about? EXAMPLES (BUT NOT LIMITED TO) -Someone who has another job that nobody knows about? -Guy who is married to two women and has two separate families? -Guy who is a cross-dresser with conservative Cop Dad? -Grandma who is a porn star?

• Men and Women with Corky Talents!! Seeking guys and girls with corky fun talent for Season 2!!! *PLEASE NOTE YOUR FUN AND CORKY TALENTS*

Mic Side.

I don’t care what appointment, gig, funeral or invasive medical procedure I have scheduled – the day the Jets get to the Super Bowl I am faking mercury poisoning and attending that game.

The really tricky part is the Jets actually making it. I mean, has anyone on the team even driven by a Super Bowl?

I actually had the pleasure of attending six Super Bowl games all this past Saturday. My friend Jeff asked me to come back and do the PA announcing for his kids’ football league, and I made the most of it. For instance, when a team called the Red Raiders scored, I went to town: “TOUCH DOWNNNN RED RRRAAAAAAIDERRRRS.” And when I announced the rosters at the end of each game, I bypassed the NFL and went NBA style. Santonio Holmes became “SANTOOOOONIOO HOOOOOOOOLMMMMMES.”

I think everyone should experience hearing their name announced dramatically at least once. So if you’re getting married or arraigned or whatever, call me.

I’m On TV This Week.

Acting is the most fun job in the world, and nothing else comes close. I’m sorry, it’s in the Bible.

On Thursday, I taped a role in a sketch for “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” (The regular, midnight version – not the post NBA Finals half-hour specials.) I originally thought it might air tonight, but it looks like this evening’s episode is a repeat, so you can catch it most likely Tuesday or possibly Wednesday.

I will never grow tired of receiving a phone call in which I find out I booked a role. What is this shameful television-shaped hole in my heart?

Okay, the adrenaline is really beginning to pump again, so I’d better get out of here. If anybody needs me, I’ll be in jail.

Michael Vick Chew Toy Status.

Looks like a torn rotator cuff and a high ankle sprain. But he’ll soon be downgraded from the disabled list to Hell.

As (Soon To Be) Seen On TV.

I booked a little something that airs Monday night, but I’m contractually bound to not talk about it until Monday. I mean I would mention it, but then someone might run their mouth, and if childhood taught us anything, it’s that snitches get stitches.

Everyone have a great weekend, okay? Okay.

Get Your Butt To LA, Part 43: Show Them Yours.

Self-awareness is so key to acting success. Every now and then I’ll meet an actor who’s still in the shittier talent stage of his career but thinks he’s ready for a huge starring role. He doesn’t know he’s shitty because the part of his brain that should know is getting a wedgie from the rest of his brain.

The problem is subjectivity. There’s no board to be passed. No guy in his first month of med school would ever think he’s ready to perform surgery, and yet actors hound directors and casting directors right out of the box with the self awareness of the chick I know who, when blogging recently about what she wants in a relationship, wrote “I’m looking for the kind of connection that you see in the movies and that I believe my parents had before they got divorced.”

Yes. Yes.

Here’s a question I received this week: “How do you know when you have a good enough reel? People say submit for SAG work and agents when your reel is good enough. I did three films and I think my reel is pretty good, but I don’t know.”

Smart actor. Here’s the easy answer: show your reel to ten actors whose opinions you trust. If nine of them like it, it’s good.

Here’s the answer that’s all over the map: trust that your reel is ready to go. You’re probably your own tough critic, so chances are you won’t be giving casting directors a bad first impression of you. And remember: every actor begins at zero and works his way up from there. You start with a blank reel, then incrementally build it into a good reel, then one by one replace the good scenes with great ones. The ultimate goal being a amazing collection of your work, acting your ass off opposite A-list stars.

If you’re still not satisfied, let’s analyze your reel in the form of a graph, the Y axis being your degree of talent vs. the X, which is substantive length of content… (Sorry, I’m just so flabbergasted by that woman’s blog post that I’m trying to distance myself a million miles from her.)

So you’re ready. Send it out. I don’t care what age you are – you’re not getting any younger, and before you have a reel capable of giving every casting director a nipple hardon, you gotta go with what you’ve got. They may just love it, or see something in you that makes them really like your potential. Don’t question it, for the same reason you should never apologize after an audition because you think you biffed a scene – you have no idea if the casting director loved you, and why would you give them a glimpse into your insecurity?

So link it, email it and get to what’s left of your local post office and send it. It’s time to make your first surgical incision.

Uncle Drew.

Besides clowns (just call them what they really are: smiling murderers), my biggest turnoffs include pranks and Duke basketball. So when Duke alum (and now NBA Rookie of the Year) Kyrie Irving decided to go to a basketball court near his hometown of Elizabeth, NJ in full old-guy makeup and sucker some street players, I was skeptical. But it turned out great, and Kyrie can act and got full writing credit for it. Click above, and check out his skills.

A Great, Big Man-Hug.

Yesterday, I had a case of the Mondays. I buy them in bulk at Costco.

But then the LA Kings won it for my buddy Mike, who’s been working for the team his entire adult life and is such a great guy. That’s him hugging goalie Jonathan Quick.

It’s a really big deal for the Kings, who for 45 years have made trying to win a championship as unnecessarily complicated as the third season of “Lost.”

So enjoy it, sir. And congrats.

Weekend Recap.

Here’s what I assume happened: some Mexican dude was hired to stick menus in doors in my neighborhood and stopped dead in his tracks when he came upon a Pit Bull hanging out in front of my place, dropped a menu and ran. Ricky took care of the rest… My friend Gary, at dinner Saturday night: “Don’t be offended, but you’re kinda like Christian Bale’s character in American Psycho.” Me: “Yes! Thank you!”… I attended a casting workshop on Saturday, and before the casting director entered the room, we were told he brings a “New York mentality.” In other words: Jewy.

Game On.

Hey “Jersey Shore” a-holes: the 90s called and – just kidding, nobody called for you.

While I love most everything about LA, I don’t give even half a shit about LA teams. Mine are all from New York. But LA Kings fans have been a dedicated bunch for a long time, and my friend Mike, one of the nicest guys in the world, worked all the way up from being an usher at games to his present high-falutin’ position as the team’s VP of Communications and Media, and the man deserves a ring. So suck it Jersey, and wrap it up tonight, Kings.

This Week In @mattshevin Tweets.

• (ABOVE): #9 can’t be racist if it’s “special.”

• My brother texted me that he had brunch with Charlie Sheen’s twins yesterday. He meant Charlie's kids, right?

• You know what magazine covers really need? More Kardashian.

• All women love Adele. All women love red velvet cake. What would happen if Adele wrote a song about red velvet cake? #WorldWouldImplode

• How come when food gets personified in commercials it always has a thick Brooklyn accent?

• Super cute girl at my gym working out with her boyfriend who’s wearing shoes with individual toes. #TragedyOfEpicProportions

Can I Get An Amen?

Get Your Butt To LA, Part 42: Need A Spot?

One evening while working a summer job for the rec department of New York, I arrived at a softball field I was supposed to line with chalk, only to find the entry-gate locked. I had to take the chalk-liner, which weighed over 100 lbs., and hoist it over a six-foot fence. I was now running late when I arrived at the next field, where the guido captain of a softball team started in with me because his coed game had been slightly delayed. As he got in my face, I seriously considered lifting up that chalk-liner once again, and this time dropping it on his greaseball head.

Now, if you’ve ever done any real heavy-lifting for minimum wage while a flaming asshole encroaches your personal space, a tough day at work for an actor kinda pales in comparison. Here’s a comment posted after I once mentioned this:

 “‘Just keep showing up and eventually you’ll work. Every actor who wants it bad enough makes it. Let’s have fun. It’s showbiz – there ain’t a lot of heavy lifting involved.’ It’s great to be positive, but, that statement sounds sooo naive, don't you think? Thousands of actors struggle their whole lives and never ‘make it.’ And the mental heavy lifting is much harder than lifting fridges all day. Just saying. No?” 
-AV 

Well, since you asked nicely, I will absolutely respond. As far as physical vs. mental lifting, acting may be a mental challenge, but I personally don’t think it’s tougher than hard labor, which carries the burden of both physical and mental heavy-lifting. Farmers are passionate about what they do, but they bust their asses only to have so many factors out of their control, such as whether their crops will be profitable each year. Judging by the empty beer cans I see at construction sites, they’re not exactly the happiest places on earth.

Even if you aren’t working with your hands, the stress level can be off the charts. Retail has become extremely unstable. Investment bankers have the ability to make a lot of money, but the market is fragile as hell. Teachers may get summers off, and some stability if they have tenure, but the pay sucks, kids are pieces of shit, and with forced curriculums, all of the creativity that drew them to teaching is lost. Etc., etc., etc.

So AV, I’m not sure if you’re an actor, but by the very essence of your question I’d say you’re not cut out for this business, which is fine. I wrote that post for people who’d rather act than do anything else, yet are feeling like success will never come. I wrote it because I don’t want them to give up.

And give up acting up for what? Are there some terrific alternative opportunities awaiting them? If so, I’ll be disappointed, but wish them the best. Yet as I’ve said a dozen times before and I’ll say 12 dozen times again: we actors choose this business, knowing that the odds are crazy, so we have no grounds to bitch about it. A simple co-starring role on a TV show can get 17,000 headshots submitted for it. That means 16,999 of us can either choose to stay persistent, or go become, I don’t know – morticians. It’s a growth industry.

I hope that’s some sort of an answer. And by the way, it’s interesting I’d be questioned about being naively positive, considering I’ve been accused of being ridiculously negative. Tough crowd.

Nutty Shit I Saw While Walking Ricky Yesterday.

Possible gingerbread house owned by a witch who wanted to eat us. 

Probable lawsuit. 

Klass.

Kneel Before Neil.

In addition to writing this daily tripe, I also recap my team’s ballgames each week. We’re in the middle of a bad season and just lost to a super young team,so last night I broke out the tough love. I decided to post here what I wrote to my teammates, but before 80% of the women I know de-friend me on Facebook for it, I’d like to remind you a) I post a pretty uplifting Valentine’s post for you every year, b) You get to enjoy a rare glimpse into the sanctuary that is the men’s locker room, and c) I’m not misogynistic – I’m just playing the role of a guy who kinda is, strictly for motivation. (You bet I played that card.)

It’s been a shit week for the geriatrics. 49-year-old pitcher Jamie Moyer got cut by the Rockies. Richard Dawson finally bought it. (You thought he was already dead. He wasn’t.) Even the Pacific Movie Theater in Manhattan Village went belly up.

And the inevitable caught up with our team, who seems to have traded in popping wood for popping up to second. There were no egregious errors against the Squids Sunday night – we just didn’t hit, and the Squids, defending champs, really did.

But there’s still hope. Some old guys still got it. Sunday’s Parade Magazine featured an article on Neil Diamond. At 71, the dude may be going through aerosol spray-on hair by the caseload and is ready to be fitted for a colostomy bag, yet he just married a hot, young blonde. Nice pull.

So here’s our new mantra: WWNDD: What Would Neil Diamond Do? Hit the batting cages? Talk out a song instead of sing? Take the field wearing bedazzled capes? Yes, yes and whatever the eff it takes.

There are eight games left to turn this bitch around. Do you want to spend them sleeping in separate bedrooms with your age-appropriate wife, or banging a tight, blonde vagina? Up to you.

Way To Whittle It Down.

A REAL CASTING NOTICE I SAW THIS WEEK:
“Are You Addicted to Porn? Or maybe you spend a lot of time sexting? Does sex get in the way of your work? Do you masturbate several times a day? Do you spend a lot of time thinking about sex? Do you have a lot of sex partners? If so, we want to meet you!! ”

The Best Theater In All Of Showbiz.

I finally understand the end of The Sixth Sense – those names are the people who worked on the movie!

That should have dawned on me long ago, seeing as I spend many evenings at the ArcLight Cinema in Hollywood. The place is easily the epicenter of cinema, and the best place to be for any opening night.

But it’s not just because the theater is literally located in the heart of Hollywood at Sunset and Vine. Take the above shot of me with my friends Gary and Aina. Just after we’d fallen in love with Moonrise Kingdom, it made it that much more special to see the costumes and major props from the film on display in ArcLight’s lobby. Every week is a new set of costumes/props, corresponding to the newest big release.

 I see major celebrities casually attending films almost every time I’m there. And they’re wise to do so. Every showtime features assigned seats you choose online, and before each movie there are only previews – no commercials. Plus there’s a great restaurant and bar in the lobby, and the second you sit down your waiter will ask what time your movie starts, then write it in big crayon numbers on your tablemat so that he’ll know to hustle and get you out on time.

 I love the place. And when you go there you will too, because statistics don’t lie: 50% of marriages end in divorce, but 100% of ArcLight movie nights end in happiness.