Cleared For Takeoff.

If you’re going to a medical facility to get the COVID vaccine, make sure you bring a valid form of ID along with a printout of your pro basketball stats. 

The rest of us must still get tested, especially if we’re traveling to New York, which I am tomorrow. My rapid test was negative, and I will now spend the next 12 days back east. 

While I won’t enjoy my traditional holiday in New York (Broadway and bars are shut down), it’ll be nice to change up my routine again. I got a taste of it Thanksgiving week in Dallas, and I’m hooked. 

I’ll miss Ricky. His head’s been inexplicably smelling like McDonald’s table syrup lately, and I can’t stop kissing it. He gets to go to his happy place – the fancy kennel – tonight. And for me, there’s already 10 inches of snow on the ground in New York. A white Christmas without the burden of shoveling. See you there.

A Testimonial.

Whenever I do a Zoom chat with a woman I’m dating, I’ll dare her to show me hers if I show her mine. Then we both lower our cams to see each other’s dogs. 

But since the quarantine began, my dog, and me, for that matter, looked murky at best. I tried every light source I could blind myself with, but nothing worked. Then it hit me: it’s not the lighting – it’s the camera inside my MacBook that’s shit. You can’t fool me for more than nine months. 

I researched like crazy and found an external camera for 54 bucks that is literally the difference between night and day. The NexiGo FHD. Simply plug in and play. 

I will say the dark and blurriness did have its advantages. I can no longer secretly each bowls of macaroni and cheese during calls. Four out of five stars.

Somebody’s Been Nice.

I always felt like Hello Kitty should be a brand of condoms. 

Or a kickass gift. On line at FedEx yesterday, I noticed someone was shipping what I presume was a giant Hello Kitty head. Which means this Christmas, some little girl is going to be very happy. Or some little boy very confused.

Leave Your Mark.

I never feel like a bigger failure than when my dog re-scratches something I just scratched for him. 

But Ricky got in an admirable scratch on my nephew’s leg, and with that little shit’s mouth, Ricky earned himself a well-deserved low-five.

Pay No Attention To What’s In Front Of That Curtain.

The virus. Zero stars. Would not recommend. 

Show business shut down for six months – not great for auditioning – but luckily it’s back and mostly cooking. So I attended a workshop with a casting director from “General Hospital” over the weekend, only it took place on Zoom because we’re still quarantining. 

Because I use Zoom on my laptop and not my phone, I couldn’t use a tripod, but an actor is trained to use the space around him. I jerry-rigged a chair on top of an end table on top of a coffee table and it worked my-tee-fine. 

This is what the casting director saw. Don’t tell her I was in shorts and flip-flops in this business casual scene, please.

20 Days.

I was in Newport Beach yesterday and drove past the heliport from which Kobe Bryant took off before he and his daughter crashed and died in January. 

This was a shit year before it officially got shitty. Almost done.

An Excerpt.

If my life ever flashes before my eyes, it’ll probably be 70% me watching “The Office.” 

And now I’m reading about it, in Andy Green’s anthology “The Office: The Untold Story of the Greatest Sitcom of the 2000s.” It’s over 400 pages of thorough stories, including two from the first season, in which NBC dragged its heels renewing the show after greenlighting only six episodes. First from Kate Flannery, who played Meredith: 

I kept my restaurant job through the first season. I was a waitress at Kate Mantilini in Beverly Hills. Sometimes showrunner Greg Daniels would come in to talk to me. I’d be holding a tray of food and he’d be like, “I’ve got to talk to you about saying the word vagina. We’re going back and forth with the network on that, but really want to keep it.” 

And Jason Kessler, production assistant: 

My job that season was to drive around town and drop people’s scripts off at their houses. I very specifically remember going to John’s apartment in West Hollywood and he was playing video games with a friend. He invited me in to play. Normally, I would drop a script off at the door or I’d knock on the door and hand it to him, and someone would say, “Oh, thank you very much,” and just go into their house. John’s the only person who ever invited me in.