Inside The Actor’s Quarantined Apartment: Bad Boys.

Inside The Actor’s Quarantined Apartment: A Quiet Place.

Inside The Actor’s Quarantined Apartment: The Shining.

Inside The Actor’s Quarantined Apartment: Wayne’s World.

Inside The Actor’s Quarantined Apartment: Pulp Fiction.

Inside The Actor’s Quarantined Apartment: The Matrix.

Inside The Actor’s Quarantined Apartment: The Revenant.

Inside The Actor’s Quarantined Apartment: A League Of Their Own.

Inside The Actor’s Quarantined Apartment: Michael Clayton.

Episode 1

The First Great Film Of The Year.

A man whose heavy addiction is kind of justified for a very sympathetic reason is asked to save an underdog basketball team from a lost season. Well, well, well. If it isn’t the feelings I’ve been trying to avoid.

I loved The Way Back. It doesn’t fall into the usual sports clichés – the ending is not typical – and Ben Affleck, who shot this role the day after he left rehab, was amazingly heavy and raw.

I managed to see this film last week, before theaters shut down, but I’ll bet studios will be rushing current films to on-demand very soon. This one is really worth it.

The Last Lunch.

Apparently, this past weekend was written by Stephen King.

It’s a crazy time, and things are changing by the minute, but on Friday, before all the restaurants shut down, I went to Crack Shack for the first time, and it was phenomenal. Fried chicken is my spirit animal, and this place has some of the best I’ve ever had. Plus deviled eggs!

I ate way too much so I would be full for the next quarantined month. That said, yes we’ve all gone a little over the top with the social distancing, but our overreaction is going to shorten this thing and get my Yankees back on the field that much sooner, so keep it up.

I Did Another Interview.

Milennials act like they invented podcasts, but my dad left me 40-minute voicemails long before the internet.

I’ve been asked to do many interviews since my Lifetime movie aired, including podcasts, and this one with FanBolt was really fun:

   

The Next Big Book.

My niece: reads three Harry Potter books in one day.
Me: sees a text that’s longer than 2 sentences – holy shit, I just do not have the time for this.

 But I’ll make time for my friend Rob Weintraub’s new book. He’s a prolific writer, with a fun, very engaging style I love. And he’s about to have his fourth book published.

While he was in town last week, Rob let me check out his manuscript, which was impressively huge, and he taught me something I didn’t know: some publishers frown on the author making significant changes at the line edit stage. You have to get the book right during editing, because major changes at the proof stage (after it’s been typeset) are very expensive. If you insist on rewriting your proofs, you may have to pay for the changes and they won’t be cheap.

That’s right – you’re charged for changes. I suppose there’s no other way to keep writers in check. Speaking of which, when the book debuts, I insist you check it out. It contains some very fascinating history about California, sports and wealthy folks in the 1920s. It’s super groovy.

Well Done.

I didn’t realize until coronavirus how shocking it is to walk into a public men’s room and see all the sinks actually being used.

It’s getting serious, but still nice to see a student at my alma mater had some fun with Testudo. For 90 years, this terrapin statue has provided good luck to students who rub his nose during finals week. Now, more than ever, it’s worth the risk.

29 Seconds Of February.

Whoever removed the 30th and 31st from February, can come get the 9th too, bro.

That was a particularly shitty day. But all the others were sweet, and here they are, one second per day:

  

I Get Collegiate.

At happy hour one day in college, I saw one of my professors. We nodded as we both realized we were skipping my class.

I imagine a whole lot of class skipping goes on at Pepperdine University, what with the wall-to-wall view of the ocean in Malibu. I was there last week with my friend Rob. We’re both big college basketball fans, and love see games on campuses on which we’ve never been. We attended major basketball schools (Syracuse and Maryland), so it’s fascinating to go to these mid-major schools and their less glitzy programs.

At Pepperdine, the arena isn’t big enough to fit locker rooms, so the visiting team walks out through the lobby past the only concession stand, while the home team goes outside through a side door. Also, we parked on campus for free. At Maryland, it costs a fortune for a decent spot.

We must really love hoops, because right after the Pepperdine game, we drove over the hill for another game at Cal State Northridge. This is an even smaller gym, optimistically called the Matadome. It’s an odd state of affairs. While 35,000 students attend CSUN, 95% of them are commuters, so they don’t exactly field a powerhouse team. By the way, the white wall in the background used to be an upper section of seats, before they were crushed by the Northridge earthquake. The space was sealed up and turned into classrooms. It’s such an intimate setting that at one point a local pizza joint marketed itself by delivering a dozen pizzas to the gym. Cheerleaders handed out free slices to anyone in the crowd who raised a hand. Quite cozy.

Killing It This Weekend.

I have an idea for a thriller about a woman who is trying to work in a cafe but slowly realizes the staff is setting up the room for an open mic.

In the meantime, you can catch another thriller – my Lifetime movie – again. If you missed it the first few times it was on, or want to watch it once more, Her Secret Family Killer airs Saturday night on LVN (that’s Lifetime Movie Network, not the original Lifetime), at 8 pm and midnight.

Thanks for watching. And for the residuals.

Rest In Peace.

What I DON’T want to hear God say when I arrive at the pearly gates: anything about my browser history.

James Lipton finally had his chance to hear from God himself, when he passed away earlier this week. I had a flood of notifications about it, which made sense – my blog’s theme and title are a play on James’ show.

It was a superb show. Movie stars are held in high regard because they help us escape, and learning their journeys and craft is fascinating. Sure, James fawned all over them, but it was undeniably watchable. That’s a great legacy. I’ll miss him.

By the way, my new pal Rob Lowe has been known to police language on Twitter, and once posted this gem:

Am I the only one who finds "RIP" to be a sort of lazy, pat and tossed-off way to remember someone's life?

— Rob Lowe (@RobLowe) January 19, 2013

Right on. It’s time for RIP to rest in peace.

You Thought Good Thoughts.

The main difference between kids and dogs is that kids grow out of following you into the bathroom. 

That said, I’ve blogged about it before, but it bears repeating: I will never presume for a second that raising a dog is anything close to as daunting as raising a child, but the closest I’ve ever felt to real parenthood occurred again as I picked Ricky up from his surgery.

The vet staff invited into the off-limits-to-humans back area, where I encountered a scared, confused and suffering Ricky. I put my arms underneath him and carried all 96 lbs. of him out to my car. The last time we did this, he shit in the back seat. This time, I made sure he poohed outside first. Fool me once.

The good news: the surgery was a success. Thanks to everyone who checked in about him. It takes a village to raise a dog, preferably one with many fire hydrants.

Think Good Thoughts For This Guy.

When I took Ricky to get his leg examined a couple weeks ago, a woman walked up to the front desk before gasping loudly, “I forgot my dog!”

She forgot to bring her dog with her to the VET.

I won’t have the same slip-up this morning as Ricky goes in for major surgery to repair his torn knee ligament. He has no idea about the long recovery he’s about to endure again (he had his other knee fixed five years ago), but the surgeon is the best and he’s in good hands.

For eight to ten weeks, I’ll have to keep Ricky very sedated so he doesn’t rip any staples out. (My vet yelled at me after the last surgery for letting him be too active, and my vet looks like and is as big as former NFL all-pro Junior Seau, so I very much listen.)

 Good luck, dummy.

How To Talk To Celebrities, By Matt Shevin.

I’m excited for the zombie apocalypse, so I can trap famous dead celebrities and make the best ensemble comedy ever.

As for the live ones, I’ve got that down. My friend Rob Weintraub was in town for the weekend, and Friday night, as we sat at the counter at Apple Pan, Rob Lowe came in by himself and sat next to us.

I idolize Rob Lowe, and very much wanted to talk to him, but I followed my foolproof rule #1: don’t bother celebrities while they’re eating. I waited until he’d finished his burger, fries and Coke. (He’s not the maniac healthy eater his character was on “Parks on Recreation,” and in fact is so handsome at age 56 that I may never stop eating burgers and fries.) Then I told him I loved both of his autobiographies, and he lit up.

Rob Lowe is a big sports fan, and Rob Weintraub is a sports writer, so we talked NFL football for a half hour. And that is rule #2: Don’t ask celebrities cliché questions about their work. If you want to talk about a movie an actor was in, go with something obscure. A friend of mine met Ben Stiller and told him he loved him in Permanent Midnight, a very heavy drama, and Ben was thrilled. My friend didn’t shout “blue steel!” at him – Ben gets that 17 times a day.

If you sense they’re nice enough and have the time to take a photo with you, go for it. I figured Rob was done with a long day of shooting around the corner at FOX studios, so I let it go, only taking the one of him surreptitiously. Of course, he didn’t make it out the exit without someone else asking for a photo, and he very sweetly obliged.

By the way, that was shamefully my first time visiting Apple Pan, an LA burger and pie institution since 1937. The burgers are excellent and I love the old-fashioned drink cups.

People line up for Apple Pan pies to bring to Thanksgiving get-togethers, and I couldn’t resist topping off my meal with this yumminess. I love LA.