Why Do I Bother Unpacking?

Definitely the best part of traveling is spending hours online in a totally different place.

Tomorrow, I head back to New York, the city that never stops slashing. (Good news! The NYPD ordered 3000 pairs of slash-proof gloves.)

Actually, working there has been enjoyable. It’s my third trip there this month, and this time I’ll be there though Tuesday. Good stories to come. I promise.

Yuge.

For an audition yesterday, I put on a black tie that I bought a few years ago. The tie is unfortunately Trump, but hilariously outsourced.

Strike Down Upon Thee.

Samuel L. Jackson sure does work a lot. He’s like the Liam Neeson of movies.

If you’ve watched only a minute of the NCAA Tournament, you’ve seen his Capital One commercials a thousand times. Syracuse ain’t the only ones upsetting everybody.

The commercials are a tad hokey, featuring Samuel, Charles Barkley and Spike Lee. But I can’t question a guy for wanting to work, and no matter how much Samuel does, he’s still super respected by everyone. That’s impressive.

And when he drove past me on the 405 Freeway on Saturday in a new Maserati, I understood why even hokey Capital One roles are okay with him. The car is upwards of $200,000.

Then again, there’s a good chance he was shooting a role as a guy driving a Maserati. Should have checked for cameras. My bad.

Men Of Leisure.

Saturday, I went to watch my nephew’s baseball game. Here he is, the laziest little shit in Little League. Then yesterday, I ate so much of his Easter candy that my Fitbit had a heart attack.

Forget Sunsets – Give Me A Moonset.

Thursday, 6:12 a.m.

This Is Terrible.

Garry Shandling was a genius. He didn’t just create TV – he reinvented it. I wish I had a sliver of his writing talent. Every critically-acclaimed sitcom in the past 20 years owes pretty much everything to “The Larry Sanders Show”. It was great right out of the box, and ended with the best finale ever.

My friend Ben reminded me to watch the episode of “Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee” featuring Garry, hauntingly titled “It’s Great That Garry Shandling is Still Alive.” You can watch it here.

Tremendously sad.

Made My Day.

The best way to get over someone is to wait fifty years, then quietly die in your sleep.

I kept that in mind as I got off the plane at LAX on Monday and tried to wrap my head around an audition I had the next morning. The scene involved a couple, the role I was reading opposite was already cast with a big-name actress and the film was being produced by Kevin Spacey.

I went over to my friend Ariel’s house that night, and we tried to wrap our heads around the crazy physicality of the scene. Then I got up early the next morning, put on a suit and auditioned.

Last night I emailed the casting director to thank him, and this is what he sent back:

“Top-shelf work. I don't audition all the time (usually it’s straight offers to actors) but I will want you every time.”

When I found out I had an audition, I was dragging my ass off a plane (American – the airline that leaves you feeling like you got beat up) and had to clear out the cobwebs and deliver on a role that could be very good for my career. Looks like I did.

We’ll see if I book it, but I’m good either way. One of the best things about being an actor is that it’s one of the few professions that allows you to be great. That’s more than enough.

Get In My Belly.

I can’t turn water into wine, but I can turn ice cream into breakfast.

Eating is the best. And I performed my civic duty as an Angeleno yesterday by heading over to the new, and first ever, Shake Shake in Los Angeles.

Allow me to bust another myth about LA: we LOVE to eat. Dunkin Donuts opened with the same fervor last year, and news crews were on hand for Shake Shack’s grand opening. Here’s my friend Jason, bearded, center of the screen, video bombing:

A week’s passed since the place opened, and the demand has not died down. We waited for an hour in a line that went down the street just so we could order, but it was worth it. I think the burgers are a tad bit better than the consensus favorite out here, In-N-Out.

Carvel used to have a presence here, and last week declared it’s going to be making it’s way back. Challenge accepted.

Good To Be Back?

I wasn’t expecting a 98% naked runner 15 minutes after stepping off the plane. But now that I have seen it, I cannot unsee it. I have been violated and however long I shower for, I’ll never be clean enough.

Goodbye, NY. It’s Been Real Fun. And Real Cold.

Wish there was a way to text my dog that I’m almost home.

Whenever any trip comes to an end, I get a tinge of wanting just a little more time. But it was snowing here last night, so I’ll be hustling my ass back to California no problem. Happy first day of spring, New York.

Formal.

My clothing style is best described as “didn’t expect to get out of the car.”

But here in New York, suits are still the norm. Every dude everywhere looks like Ted Cruz. Luckily, that’s never creepy.

For The Love ‘O St. Pat.

Oh, so NOW you all wanna be gingers.

St. Patrick’s here in the city is a big deal. I’m sure this morning everyone here feels like Charlie Sheen looks.

I was working late into the night, so didn’t get to partake in the classic Irish drinking game, Never Stop Drinking, but I did get a little homesick seeing these San Diego firemen in town to march in the parade:

Hope you’re all sleeping it off. 

Two Jews Walk Into Each Other.

It takes me a while to warm up to new people. But I will kiss a dog I just met on the mouth.

Always easy bumping into an old friend, which I did, yesterday morning. My friend Glenn, who used to work with my brother and was one of the regulars on our ski trips to Park City.

Adding to the surreal moment was that I was with my friend Rob, who by coincidence happened to know Glenn as well. The city can be teeny every now and then.

It was a kickass day that started with breakfast with Rob at Eisenberg’s, and was capped off by dinner with my mom at Fresco by Scotto, and this yumminess:

Pizz-eh.

You know those scenes in which a guy shoves everything off a table and throws a woman on it? I’ve done that with pizza.

 It was raining when I arrived here (and really, when doesn’t it rain in New York), so I was limited when trying to grab a quick bite. A little pizza place around the corner would have to suffice, and as I’ve often said, Mulberry Street Pizza in LA has ruined me for all others.

Having a nice time here. Working my ass off. Speaking of which, does this pizza make my butt look big? Be honest.

Seeing Me Off At LAX:

Latin George Clooney.

Return Trip.

I’m heading back to New York today, flying American Airlines – the Chinatown bus of the sky.

A crappy, but necessary flight, as I have more business there. It’ll be for a week this time.

Stop by every day, because I promise nutty things will happen, and I’ll blog the shit out of them when they do.

Why The Terrorists Hate Us.

There Are No Small Gigs.

Storefront piano concerto, Robertson Blvd.

New York: And iPhone™ Photo Gallery.

Just in case I forgot where I was flying.

Seems like creating a bullshit award is a lot of work to go through to scam free bagels.

I always love when people say things like “Oh, Columbia, South Carolina? Lots of Jews.” Or “Jackson, Mississippi – BIG Jewish population.” Sorry – the definition of “a lot” of Jews: brother wearing a yarmulke.

No Thank You, Ma’am.

Last night, a prostitute pulled up in this Audi and solicited me. Who knew they deliver?

I declined, but told her I was strangely flattered.

I’m running on two hours of sleep, so I’m going to stop typing now. Already on my way back to LA. I’ll recap a little more about New York tomorrow, and promise to get anti-semitic on your ass.

I’m On A Plane.

Three days after I posted the New York Post headline “Get the Hell Out of NYC While You Can”, I’m in NYC.

I fought the narrative. And the narrative won.

I have a meeting I found out about last minute, and I jumped on the last flight out last night. I’ll be back tomorrow. Play nice while I’m gone.

Ingredients For A Good Weekend.

Good food. Good people. Rain. News I may be going out of town next week. And a night at Yardhouse. Yes, a yard of beer – for people who think the best kind of alcohol is “a lot”.

Oh Hell Yes.

It started raining late last night, which was perfect for my pride and joy – my new lawn. It’s as if God booty-called me at 2 a.m.

Done And Done.

She Gets It.

Just googled “guy who can’t get his shit together”, because I was trying to remember some movie, but Google was like, “bitch, that’s you.”

My friend Chad wrote a great scene for our sitcom the other day, and I was feeling the pressure to hold up my end, but damn, writing is tough. Especially comedy.

Then I started reading Amy Poehler’s book, and right off the bat she took a very honest look into her own struggle to get the book done. Not helping: she was trying to write it while going through a divorce, taking care of two young kids, and producing and starring in her own TV show. What she was able to write was lots of emails to her increasingly impatient editors with subjects like “HOW DARE YOU!”

She was overwhelmed. But then she wrote something very profound:

So what do I do? What do we do? How do we move forward when we are tired and afraid? What do we do when the voice in our head is yelling that WE ARE NEVER GONNA MAKE IT? 

Well, the first thing you do is take your brain out and put it in a drawer. Let it tantrum itself out. And then you just do it. You just dig in and write it. You write and then cook something and write some more. You put your hand on your heart and feel it beating and decide if what you wrote feels true. You do it because the doing of it is the thing. The doing is the thing. The talking and worrying and thinking is not the thing. 

Because what else are we going to do? Say no? Say no to an opportunity that may be slightly out of our comfort zone? Quiet our voice because we are worried it is not perfect? I believe great people do things before they are ready.

Rest In Peace.

Lee Reherman worked out at my gym. He was always super nice, and ALWAYS asking for a spot. Which I gladly gave him, even though I have no business spotting a guy benching 320.

His roommate once told me, “He never eats solid food. It’s just protein powder everywhere!”

It showed. He was solid muscle. Which made it all the more shocking when he suddenly died yesterday.

He was 49 when he passed. Way too soon, but Lee packed a lot into that life. He played football at Cornell, then went to training camp with the Miami Dolphins, then got his MBA and started pursuing his PhD.

Then he got into the entertainment business and just whaled on it. He started as Hawk on “American Gladiators”, then appeared in over 70 TV shows and movies, including the latest Star Trek.

He was a cool, funny, outgoing guy. My Facebook feed is loaded with stories of him going out of his way for everyone. His death was sudden, but I bet if he’d first been given a moment to reflect on his life, he wouldn’t have had any regret. He went balls-out in everything he did, and fulfilled his potential. Wish I could say the same.

Sorry to see you go, man.

Your Tax Dollars At Work.

It’s called “homework”, and it’s the latest craze with kids, but has the community up in arms. Martina Chow has the story.

I spent most of the weekend with my niece, who binge-watched the TV show “The A-Team”. It was for her middle school class, the subject of which is: “The A-Team”.

The episode she’s watching in the above pic was an especially educational one, in which the gang tricks a guy into marrying a dude in a bridal gown. America is officially great again.