LA: Part 1

I did it! I have arrived. I hopped off the plane at L.A.X., with my team and my ticket in hand. Welcome to land of famous acts, am I gonna fit in? 

Little known fact: when you walk off the plane they hand you head shots. I didn't know that. It's a nice touch. Now, me in California is a bad idea, because I just walk around acutely alert of my surroundings, constantly asking and pointing at people "Are they famous? Are they famous? What would I know them from? How many IMDB credits do they have?" I literally have not blinked since we got here. 

Being here for business is different from being here for pleasure. For one thing, I have no time during the day to do fun things. But at night, anything is fair game. Of course, that's when I'm sleeping, but still... 

I am going to really enjoy my time here in California. Don't ask me to move out here because I will do it, no questions asked. They are going to have to drag me kicking and screaming back on to the plane in three weeks. But until then, you can catch me flying down the 405 with my Oakleys on. Peace!

Coughing and Laughing

Guess what? I don't know how, and I don't know why, and I don't know when, and I don't know where, but I have contracted strep throat. Throatus streptococcus, if you prefer Latin. (Side note: Streptococcus is my favorite type of dinosaur. Mostly a leaf eater but not afraid to eat a fish every once in a while. It's admirable.) On Friday, the doctor told me the news, but because of my 100 degree fever, I thought she said "strip throat." (Bow chicka wow wow!) I'm just kidding! The doctor was a man. 

So I've been resting pretty much all weekend, except when I left the house to infect a bunch of people in a class or on a plane. Life doesn't stop fighting on just because my immune system did. All week I thought it was indigestion. Turns out I was wrong, I'll admit it.  Don't worry, I'm on a heavy dose of vitamin C, Motrin, and penicillin, or Salkus pillus, if you prefer Latin. So I'll be guzzling pills for the next week or so. I feel like one of Bill Cosby's lady friends, drinking a Cosbypolitan. (A Cosbypolitan is just a regular Cosmopolitan that has been garnished with the date rape drug.)

Listen, I'll get better. I'll recover. Right now I'm kind of sluggish. But I'll get there. I'm doing more improv, always a high point of my week. I'm writing stuff here and elsewhere, I'm working, and I'll record another episode of  Mono a Monotone later this week. Good stuff is happening. Open your eyes to the world around you. I'll leave you with this: If you really think about it, a baker thinks that every day is Pi Day.

Spring Forward

This past weekend, we turned the clocks forward and started daylight savings time again. The good news is that my clock in the car is finally right. The bad news is that we lost an hour of precious time. I love my own time to relax and unwind. The one thing that I hate most is when people waste my time. I value my time almost as much as I value myself. The list goes me, my time, and like Chipotle or something. Those are my top three favorite things. 

Anyway, we "sprung forward" this Sunday, just as Ben Franklin intended it. Although I don't know if I agree with old Ben on this one. One too many electric shocks to head, if you catch my drift. It just doesn't make sense to me. Who needs a longer summer night and more light in the morning during the winter? Not this guy. I don't care about it.

Have a good week. Adjust to the time change. You've done it before, I suspect. This week will be busy for me, but I do all of my living on the weekends, so it's ok. Spring is coming soon, and I can't wait. The stupid groundhog was right. This winter even I was afraid of my own shadow. See ya next week.

Improv

For the past 8 weeks, I have been taking an Improv 101 class. Improv 101 is the beginner level of improv comedy taught through a theatre. Improv comedy is comedy that is made up right on the spot, live, in front of an audience. There are usually 2 or more performers creating scenes that all relate to a suggestion that someone from the audience gave  them. It's very fun, but for me, it's also very tricky.

I've done improv before. This is not my first rodeo. But be that as it may, I've always had a love/hate relationship with improv. I love it, but I'm not great at it. Now usually, I'll be the first one to tell you that I'm the best at everything. But with improv, it's like, I've always been consistently mediocre. Now, I don't want no mediocre, I want to be great. That's why I'm taking a class. I want to get better. 

Have I gotten better? I guess that's the question. Well, yes, and I really the enjoyed the class. I am excited to see how much better I have gotten. I learned more this time around. 

The class show is this Sunday. Wish me luck. I going to try to have fun with it. I think it'll go well. My class gels together in a way that excites me and terrifies me at the same time. Just please, no more suggestions of "the zoo."

How Far Is Heaven?

Lately, I've been thinking about death. Not in a bad way. And I'm not talking about the one from Family Guy. I'm talking about the end all, be all. The final frontier. The last nail in the coffin. I'm not trying to scare you or worry you. I'm trying to keep things light (without going towards the light). 

When I first thought about death, like really realized it as something that happens, I was on the golf course during the summer of 2010. It was the middle of the 18th hole (my score's time of death was hole 3) and I was walking down the fairway when it hit me (the idea, not a golf ball) that I was going to die one day.. Ever since then, it nags me on and off. We are like an old married couple (Does that count as necrophilia?). 

Most people deal with death by using religion. I was raised as a conservative Jew but became a mixture of reform and conservative (reformative?) (conservaform?) after my Bar Mitzvah (like most Jews). I guess I'm agnostic, or borderline atheist. Religion comforts us and makes us feel safe and taken care of (much like a Snuggie ©®™). I can't tell you what to believe. This is 'Murica, and it's your God-given right to choose that for yourself. 

But what about Heaven? What about Hell? What about Limbo (my favorite Bar Mitzvah game)? Are they real? Do they exist? I don't know. That's why we are here. To find out. I like to imagine that when we "pass on," we all get let in on the secret that is this whole cosmic joke. So until then, I guess we are left in the dark. I believe it was this curiosity that killed the cat. 

Billiards and Bullshit!

I thought, for this week, I'd tell you a story. I spent a couple of weeks in Salt Lake Shitty... err, I mean City... and it was very interesting, to say the least. You have to love Jesus, white people,  and panhandling bums, or as I like to call it, church. At night, the streets are about as energetic as I am (not very). But, one night, two other people and I went out to our favorite dive bar, and that's when we ran into the pool shark. 

A dive bar is titled as such because it has a pool (table). But there's no lifeguard on duty. It's sink or swim for you, based on your abilities. The drinks are cheap, just like the people. It smells like alcohol and failure. So naturally, that's where you would find three friends relaxing after a long day, and one hoodie wearing crack-fiend huddled in the corner. 

You what? You forgot your beer? That's your excuse for coming back to the table to watch us play pool? Um, it's ok, but I've heard better. Sure, you can have the next game. Wait? Why did you take your jacket off?

This guy then started to bounce and rack the balls with the intensity of an expert pool player. Why are you dancing around the table on your tippy toes? He then broke the triangle of balls and proceeded to beat my friend, while goofing around and trying to let him win by playing with one hand behind his back. Oh you fancy, huh? 

My brother watched this happen and was like "I can take him." Famous last words, based on how this long-haired LSD doer played last time and how my brother played all night. My brother actually played this meth head in a game of pool while tipsy. But here's the strange part. This drugged-out wackjob broke and then my brother proceeded to run the table, i.e. made every shot, until he had only the eight ball left. This startled our hooded acquaintance, who then focused up, and had to make every shot from there on out, which he did because, don't forget, he's a pool shark. But it was still amazing!!!!

We quickly realized that we had gained the respect of this weirdo because he wouldn't stop telling us that we had. I think it was then that he offered us weed for the first time. We said "No," finished our beers, and then tried to leave without this guy, but he followed us out. He told us that we were always welcome in his city, if we ever came back. Um, this city belongs to Mormom Jesus, not you, you idiot. Also "No," we don't want weed, but thanks for the second offer. 

As we walked away, though, I realized something: the long hair, him telling us it's his city, the offers of weed. That was Mormon Jesus!!!!! I quickly spun around to see him again, but he was gone. Damn!! I wanted to ask him things, maybe get his autograph. But he was gone. We missed it. I walked back sad, drunk, and confused. But I was changed for the better. And that's the story of the time we were hustled at pool by Mormon Jesus.

Valenwine's Day

Valentine's Day is this Saturday. To people like me, that means nothing. I'm single. But to people who are not single, it means a lot of romantic dinners. When I think of a romantic dinner, I picture a full bottle of fancy wine. That's fine. When I picture a single person, I also think of a bottle of wine, but this time it's at home, the person is alone, and  they are trying to drown their feelings of loneliness. Except that drinking a bottle of wine alone is not a good idea. There are 5 stages to drinking a bottle of wine. 

Stage 1: Denial. "I'm not going to drink this whole bottle of wine. No way. Nuh uh. Nope. Not gonna do it!! I have to be up in the morning."

Stage 2: Anger. "Somebody take this f***ing bottle of wine away. It's half empty. I can't drink the whole God damn thing by myself Ahhh!!!" (Throws wine glass at wall and shatters it.)

Stage 3: Bargaining. (New wine glass in hand.) "Are you there God? It's me, Charlie. I will never drink again, ever. All I need from you is to be given the strength to resist these last two glasses of this bottle of wine. Ok? We good?"

Stage 4: Depression. (Starting to slur words.) "You know what? I don't really have anything going for me, do I? No, no I don't. I really don't want to finish this last glass of wine. I can't. I'm tired and need to go to bed. But I can't get off the couch. Nothing matters. I could easily throw myself down the stairs."

Stage 5: Acceptance. (Heavily slurring words.) "Hey. Look!! I finished the bottle. What an accomplishment! I've done what I set out to do, and I did it all by myself. I'm gonna go to bed now." (Stands up and falls back down, passed out.) 

That's how it's goes. Happy Valentine's Day!! 

Your Weekly Update

There's a lot going on right now, so let's get started. Yesterday was the Super Bowl. I'm going to assume that you saw it and that you don't live under a rock. (Although, I do have a surprising number of readers who actually live under rocks. That's my target demographic!) It was one of the best Super Bowls that I've seen in recent years. Two evenly matched teams played against each other and it was great. The commercials were pretty good. All in all, it really put the "super" in Super Bowl.

Today is Groundhog Day. Today is Groundhog Day. I've already written on here about my thoughts on letting a Groundhog guess the weather, but to sum it up, it's about as correct as letting a person guess the weather. Six more weeks of winter? I could have told you that, and that's only because I know how to read a calendar.

Moving forward, I am going to be recording my very own podcast called Mono A Monotone, located on this very site. Look out for that. One episode is already up. The rest will be a little different, as I have figured out what I want to do on it.

This is really all I have for you guys today. I'm sorry. I'll have more next week.  Peace out!!

I Left My Hat in Minneapolis

Listen. If you've ever talked to me in the winter, and we were outside, I had to have, without a doubt, mentioned to you that the red, yellow, and black striped hat that I was wearing was my favorite piece of clothing that I owned. You probably don't remember because you didn't care. But let me tell you that I did care. And I meant every word of it.  

Well, guess what?  Last week, I lost the hat. I had it when I entered that crappy hole-in-the-wall bar in Minneapolis, and then somewhere on my way back from puking in the bar's toilet to my hotel room, I no longer had it. What the hell? Where is my hat? I mean, it didn't just walk off, did it? You don't expect me to believe that, do you? Are you trying to pull the wool over my eyes? Please! That hat invented the wool!!

I have no clue where it is. And I'm really sad about it. Right now, some Minneapolis bum probably cut two holes in it and is wearing it as an adult diaper. That lucky son of a bitch. Give it back!!! It doesn't belong to you!! That was my hat, my favorite hat. 

It's gone. Just gone. And I guess that the point in life, right? Things are just things, and they are fleeting. Fleethings, if you will. One day you have your hat. The next day some bum is wearing it as a diaper. Is that the meaning of life? Don't get attached to your headwear because one day it will become underwear? I don't know. All I know is that my stupid, imposter of a hat that I got at Urban Outfitters is annoying. It's all hipster and what not. I don't care for it. Hmm... Goodbye, hat. We'll always have Minneapolis.

The State of the Union?

The President's state of the union address is tomorrow. You're not alone. I didn't know either. But what I do know is that I saw an idea over the weekend that I really enjoyed. It had to do with translating dialogue in a conversation from English to Spanish to French and back to English. So, I thought if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Here is an excerpt from the last state of the union, translated from English to Polish to Latvian to Basque to Spanish to English. It turned out pretty good. 

"Tonight, the camera has a voice that speaks of those people, you, our citizens, the state of our union is strong that they create.

Here are the results of their work, the unemployment rate is the lowest in more than five years. The recovery of the housing market. The manufacturing sector, increasing employment, for the first time since 1990. Instead of buying oil in the world is produced in the country - it was the first time in nearly twenty years ago. Our deficit - reduced by more than half. And for the first time in more than a decade, announced that China is already the world's business leaders to invest in a number of places in the world; America is.

So that's why I think it could be a breakthrough in America. Five years after the sand and take decisive action, the United States than any other nation on Earth better prepared for the 21st century."

My favorite part is when the camera speaks to the people. Also "the sand," whatever that is. Have a good week.