Springtime For Los Angeles.

Nothing like a roaring fire on a 76-degree night in West LA. Especially when you’re snuggling on the leatherette at my favorite pub: the Wellesbourne. Great drinks, great staff, great music. It’s like being at home – if you’re an 80-year-old British dude. By the way, could whoever named the fireplace be any lazier?

Way To Ruin Dessert For Me, Japanese.

Feasting My Eyes.

Maybe it’s just me, but reading books on an iPad Mini makes me really miss the smell, the heft and the traditional reading experience of an iPad Pro.

But I’m going to go extra old-school with a hardcover edition of Alec Baldwin’s new book. I’ve been looking forward to him finishing it, and it’s finally out. I think he’s insightful about the business, and apparently he gets pretty honest about his public incidents.

It’ll take a little bit for me to get to it – I’m still reading Martin Short’s book, after taking time off from it to read another book. Plus I’m not a quick reader as it is, and I only do it on the elliptical at the gym. I’ve shared too much.

Either way, I look forward to being your proxy and posting all the best passages here.

You Lookin’ At Me?

This photo, featuring me staring into camera while everyone isn’t, could have worried me that I see dead people. But really, I don’t see enough dead people.

The shot (click on it to enlarge) was taken by friend Tj La Manna, a multi-medium artist, and I think it’s amazing. In fact, Tj’s style is completely unique, to the point in which I finally appreciate photography. Apparently it’s a lot more than taking eight selfies and posting the only one you look good in.

Everything Tj does is in camera – nothing in post. Check out his work here.

Best Ballpark Concession There Is.

You can learn a lot about your niece and nephew by turning off the TV and talking. For example, I discovered they are boring.

So make it a ballgame, and I’ll be there. It’s nice to have baseball back, so Ricky and I can get out to my nephew’s little league games every Sunday afternoon.

Much respect to my big brother, the team coach who takes care of everything, including having a big chewy in his equipment bag for Ricky.

An added level of coolness. On the mound: my nephew. Coaching third for the opposing team: former big-leaguer Nomar Garciaparra. Sure, he had the cool career and has a cool wife (Mia Hamm, who was at the game), but my brother is 3-0 against him.

Winner.

He Inadvertently Gets It.

When I order food on Postmates, in the “special instructions for the driver” box, I put “Tell me I’m THE MAN”. And they do. And I am.

I wasn’t always this self-assured, but then I realized the key to happiness: always have something to look forward to. Try it – make a list of five things you have coming up that excite you. No need to thank me afterward, but you’ll want to do so anyway. Trust me.

My credo was recently enhanced by an interview with Judd Apatow in Esquire about the gym he set up in his office but never uses:

“My workout room is a land of hope because it could be used one day, so just keeping it there means anything’s possible. That’s the key to being a hoarder, like myself. In the back of your mind, you always think that at some point you’re going to read that giant stack of newspapers, but you never do. But you always have hope. All hoarding is hope because you just think, “I can’t die because I have to watch that stack of DVDs. There’s no way for me to die without re-watching every single episode of ‘Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman’.” Makes you feel immortal, having too much stuff.”

 Slight detour, but enlightening. Having something to look forward to makes you feel immortal. Again, try it. You’ll see.

A Toast, To When You Could Drag A Man Off A Plane With No Repercussions.

Yesterday, my friend Sam posted on Facebook: “The guy in front of me on the plane went a little heavy on the Drakkar Noir.”

There should be a law: if you’re flying commercial and arrive at an airport wearing way too much cologne – mandatory shower at TSA.

Last night I had a much more pleasant flying experience, at a lounge called Now Boarding, in West Hollywood, designed with a glamorous 60s airline theme. Lots of gold fixtures and vintage luggage, and a “steward” pushing an old drink cart around the place, making martinis at tables.

The bartenders wear captains’ uniforms, harkening back to a time when our pilots flew drunk and we liked it.

The drink menu resembles a safety card, which is a nice touch. Adding to my personal, cool experience was that I happened to be there with the great-great granddaughter of Juan Trippe, founder of Pan Am. (Alec Baldwin portrayed him in The Aviator.) I was hoping the bathrooms would be super cramped and stainless steel, but this was not the case. Love the place nonetheless.

Bye Mom.

My main goal is still to get a tattoo of my mom telling me not to get a tattoo.

She left last night, after a long weekend, and it was nice having her here. As always, there was plenty of good food, and my niece and nephew taking her for granted. (When they’re especially ungrateful, I touch their dinners.) Above, I took a morning nap (and eventually all the covers) in my nephew’s bed.

There were some heckuva good dinners. At Fishbar, I wolfed down my chowder and lobster mac & cheese faster than I could snap a pic. Trust me – they were perfecto.

My Appetite Has Risen.

My niece and nephew sure are great at picking up Easter eggs, for two kids who suffer from arm paralysis whenever they have to clean up their toys.

Their expertise was on display at a semi-swanky Easter lunch yesterday thrown by my friends Paul and Cathy.

Cathy is an event planner, so everything was super classy. Feel free to steal this gem: flowers frozen into ice cubes.

Their neighbors are lawyers whose hobby is competing in barbecue competitions. They made the best pulled pork I’ve ever eaten two-and-a-half pounds of.

Someday, when he’s old enough for therapy, I’ll explain to my nephew that the bunny head he’s wearing was – for real – left behind by previous tenants who used it to make furry porn.

Hankerin’ For A Spankerin’.

If you want to know how many hours your mom was in labor with you, tell her she can’t come visit you.

I know better, and now she’s in town for a long weekend.

We kicked it off with the tradition of my nephew avoiding bedtime until my brother physically threatened him. We put the fun in dysfunctional.

Should I Be Concerned?

I found the above snack on the floor of my car yesterday, and I have no idea how it got there. Is United Airlines sending me a confusing threat?

You Asked, And (Unlike United) I Deliver.

I wish airlines would stop calling it your “final destination”. Have they not seen those movies?

Of course, with United Airlines, there is no destination, because you plain ain’t getting there.

I was going to refrain from blogging about them after their latest fiasco, but several people messaged me, asking what I thought, and I do like to take requests.

Now, before anyone comments that the “doctor” shouldn’t have reacted like a bonkers child, I agree. What I would have done in his situation is hang my head, collect my things, get off the plane, and blame MYSELF – because I chose to fly United. Shanna, they bought their tickets, they knew what they were getting into. I say, let ‘em crash.

I also understand that the girls who were asked to change their clothing a couple weeks back were United dependents, and there’s a strict dress code for them.

What I don’t understand is why people keep flying United in the first place. My friend Sharon, a major United frequent flyer, explained to me that it all went to shit when Continental merged with them in 2010. Now the only thing you can truly count on is a weekly PR disaster. You know you’ve hit rock bottom when other airlines can’t help but pounce:

Flying Delta means comfort. (That means you can wear your leggings. 😉)

— Delta (@Delta) March 27, 2017

"Welcome to Southwest, where we beat our competitors...not our customers." - the announcer on this #Southwest flight is SAVAGE. pic.twitter.com/LIG9LiVfvG

— Patrick Quinn (@PatrickQuinnTV) April 11, 2017

No surprise the employees commit blunder after blunder, when they have no leadership. Shit rolls downhill. Like in 2015, when United’s CEO stepped down in disgrace over graft involving the Newark Airport Port Authority. Their new CEO insisted, “We’re really not that unstable.”

Nice tagline, dude.

So how do we break this endless cycle? Simple: don’t fly United. Let’s stop choosing flights based on the cheapest fares. Say a flight on United is $400, and the next cheapest flight is $450. What is 50 bucks worth to you? Is it worth not having your flight delayed five times and then canceled? Or being asked to de-plane because an airline hasn’t learned after 91 years of commercial flights how to keep from overbooking them?

JetBlue has free WiFi, so right there you’ll save $25 off your round-trip. And you’ll also have access to JetBlue’s Pantry, will all the drinks and snacks you can consume. That’s worth a couple bucks. JetBlue has even figured out a way to work in conjunction with TSAs in their terminals, making them faster and better, so you’ll go from your Uber to your gate in ten minutes. You can’t put a price on that. And yet I will: $50.

Do you know who suggested the Pantry? Flight attendants. Management listened.

I bought my Christmas flight to NY on JetBlue two weeks ago. I know eight months in advance it’s going to leave on time, and be an absolute delight.

Stop flying United. Put them out of business. Support those that get it. Or don’t. I mean, when airline that can’t do anything right, what’s the worst that could happen?

The Most Magnificent Community College In All The Southland.

Laugh it up, millennials. In thirty years, your favorite actors will be talking to you about investing in gold on Fox News.

I came across the above knuckleheads last week while donating blood at Orange Coast College. And since I’m quick to make sweeping generalizations, I could confidently proclaim that all OCC students do is play video games on tiny, analog TVs.

That’s what I encountered in the student union. But then I looked the school up, and was surprised. Scott Aukerman of “Comedy Bang! Bang!” went there, and Adam Devine and Blake Anderson of “Workaholics” met there. Scott Weiland also attended. And, New York Yankee catcher Kyle Higashioka, – who played in his first game in the major leagues yesterday on opening day – promised his mom he’d attend college, so he’s taking mechanical engineering classes there.

Turns out OCC is the springboard to stardom. Mind blown.

Slightly non-related: opening day at Yankee Stadium was 76 degrees yesterday, 40 degrees warmer than when I attended last year. I’m retroactively peeved.

High Definition Of A Weekend.

How was your weekend? I spent mine on Facebook, writing “You two look fantastic!!” on all pics featuring three people or more.

Yeah, I’m still loving having my laptop back. I highly recommend using a ten-year old computer for a couple of days, with its dim, blurry screen and inability to access to most websites. You’ll never stop kissing your retina display when it’s returned.

Case in point: watching Maryland upset the #1 lacrosse team in high def. Or, an amazing gallery of people who inadvertently dressed like their surroundings.

Scroll down, and don’t let this happen to you.

Cheapest Way To Be Captured By ISIS.

Here’s The Situation.

“Married With Children” is a hilarious sitcom. Until you grow up and realize it’s a chilling documentary.

Here’s hoping my sitcom’s humor will have lasting power. Lord knows it won’t be for lack of effort. I’m trying to write multiple episodes at once, and cram as much comedy as I can into each one.

I won’t stop until I’ve created something with which any director or actor will kill to be involved. It’s a lofty goal, but I plan on taking one big swing with this one. It’s one of my favorite aspects of showbiz: one right step and you win the lottery.

Back to work. Glad I could take a break from writing to do some writing.

My Biggest Contribution To Hollywood?

Raising the average credit score for all actors.

31 Days Of March.

If I ever only have a month to live, I want to spend it watching “The Bachelor”. Because that would be the longest month of my life.

March flew by, but I managed to capture it, one second per day. Check it out:
 

Barroom.

A man at a bar told me you can only sleep in one bed at night and walk in one pair of boots. That man’s name may have been Lynyrd Skynyrd.

The bar may have been The Wellsbourne, one of my favorites in LA. I was there Saturday night, and as usual, it didn’t disappoint.

It’s like drinking in a big English home, featuring antique paintings, shelves lined with books, leather couches and a fireplace. The bartenders dress in cool black ties and serve great cocktails. The Singapore Sling is the specialty. (Every beverage should come with a pineapple slice.)

At 10 p.m., the music in the place gets turned up about ten decibels, so you may have to yell your drink-order three times. But you can also call the bartender “barkeep”, so it kinda evens out.