Cold truth

There are a lot of things I’ve forgotten as I’ve gotten older, not to mention a few I’d like to forget.

Like that spontaneous date I went on with a very attractive temp receptionist I met at an agency I was working at that shall go unnamed. Wells Rich Greene.

Because I thought it’d be an impressive thing to do, we drove the ninety-five miles from L.A. to Santa Barbara for dinner and back. Had I put a little more thought into it, I would've realized just how long a drive that is after a hard day's work, not to mention a whole lot of conversation to fill with someone you don’t know. And the Chart House in Malibu would've worked just as well and had me home a lot earlier.

Live and learn.

I might be getting off topic here. We were on things I’ve forgotten.

One of them is how to be sick.

Last week, for the first time in over two years, I got sick. Really sick. It wasn’t covid, although at first I wasn’t sure. My symptoms — runny nose, sneezing, coughing, aching, mild difficulty catching my breath — were right in line with the dreaded 'rona virus. But come to find out the months and months of masking, keeping my distance from people, tons of hand sanitizer and washing my hands more obsessively than Howard Hughes paid off. After home testing every day for the last five days, I had what I like to call a case of novid.

It wasn’t that nasty flu going around either. Although some symptoms were similar, the telltale flu fever never arrived. It was some killer cold/respiratory/bronchial thing that saw me and decided since my immune system hadn’t had a real workout in a couple years I was an easy target.

Anyway, not being able to focus on much more than breathing and trying to score two-point shots lobbing used Kleenex from my bed to the trash can, I did something I haven’t done in years: I called in sick.

Calling in sick when you’re working a 100% remote is a different experience. In the before days when I had to commute to an office, calling in sick meant sweet relief from having to get ready, fight traffic and slog through the day.

Now it meant I didn’t have to walk from my bed to my desk.

Speaking of getting older, here’s another thing I noticed: I don’t bounce back as quick as I used to. Colds, even bad ones, were always a 24 or 48 hour ordeal tops. As I’m writing this, I’m on my seventh day of it, although it does seem to be easing up.

In between watching The Social Network twice a day on HBO and the third season of Dead To Me and Neal Brennan's comedy special Blocks on Netflix, besides what being sick is like I remembered another thing I'd forgotten.

Business goes on without me.

And it’ll all be there when I get back.

The silver lining

Ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you that besides being hilariously funny, unreasonably talented, brutally handsome and, what's the word...oh yeah, humble, they'd also say I've never exactly been one to look at the glass as half full.

Especially if it's full of an infectious agent that's shutting down Italy and making lines at Trader Joe's even more unbearable than usual.

But here's the bright side, and I can't help but smile about it. I was under the impression my beautiful, intelligent, talented and wickedly funny daughter who just left this past Tuesday to head back to school in Iowa (don't get me started) wouldn't be returning to a city with over 5000 people in it until the end of May.

Funny what a difference a couple days make. She's coming back home this weekend.

Unless you have stock in toilet paper, bottled water, Cold-Eeze or surgical masks, it's understandably been hard to find any good coming out of the coronavirus pandemic. But from where I sit—in my house, bingeing Succession and eating old-fashioned chicken salad from Gelson's—I think a lot of good will come of it.

For starters, because of the new normal, families will be forced to spend family time together. With it not being safe to go out into the world, parents and kids will rediscover the art of talking to each other around the dinner table. Or just all being at the dinner table at the same time. Perhaps there will be precious times when it's screens down, and the joy of playing board games and cards will be rekindled. And maybe, just maybe, they'll do some household chores if for no other reason than it's something to do. I can dream can't I?

I also believe kindness and a sense of unity will start to wash over people. Look at me being all optimistic. But there's no getting around the fact this virus doesn't discriminate—it's looking for you no matter who you are. So instead of tearing down each other, now we all have a common enemy to direct our attention at. Well, ok, a second common enemy if you get my drift.

Then there's the traffic. The streets of Laredo are empty now, so when we do have to venture out it'll be much smoother sailing than if everyone were going into the office. Not that I want to do a lot of driving around, because that would waste gas and then I'd have to touch the gas pump to fill up. I could use the squeegee paper towels they have, but that might be awkward. Unless they have Purell at the pump. Hmmmm, I'll get back to you on this one.

I may have digressed here.

The point is while I'm sad about the reason, I'm happy about the fact my girl is coming home for summer. I know there are lots of movies we didn't get to watch when she was out here last week on spring break, so I'm sure we'll catch up on a few.

As long as they're not Outbreak, Contagion or Andromeda Strain.

A glowing recommendation - again

A couple years ago, I stumbled onto a site advertising tours to Chernobyl and posted about it. I haven't thought about it much since, but with HBO airing their Chernobyl miniseries—the feel good television event of the season—now seems like the perfect time to revisit that post.

Of course, I can't actually recommend you sign up for the tour. But then, if the summer hotels and flights you wanted are booked, you have to go somewhere. AmIrite?

Anyway, read all about it and let me know if you make plans to go. Important money-saving tip: you'll only need a one-way ticket.

Summer's coming, and it's never too early to start planning that vacation.

Instead of dragging the kids to some boring, expected vacation destination with things to see and do, like Hawaii or New York, why not take them someplace they'll have memories of for a lifetime? Or a half-lifetime.

The Chornobyl Tour sounds like fun for the whole family. Just read all the glowing reviews.

Like me, I'll bet you have a lot of questions about it. I know what my first question would be, and I'm sure I know what yours is too. But—and this is the funny part—it's not the first question on the website's FAQs. That position belongs to this one about cost:

Even with the answer they give, they don't address the hidden costs. You know, things like replacement shoes, burn ointment, vomit bags—lots of vomit bags, toilet paper—lots of toilet paper, wigs and more. But I'm sure you find out about those soon enough. And as far as that top of mind question you were going to ask, don't worry, they do answer it somewhere around number 11 or 12.

Anyway, I think getting a taste of what the post-Apocalyptic landscape is like is a super idea, and especially timely now that the liar-in-chief is president and will probably nuke someplace just to distract us from the Russia story.

We'll be living in it before we know it.

Of course, Chornobyl is in Russia. So the good news is if we can wait just a bit, we'll be able to make reservations for the Precedential Suite in the new Chornobyl Trump Tower.

Don't worry about finding it. The sign is lit up around the clock.

Garry Shandling: In the beginning

Last night HBO aired the first part of a two-part series called The Zen Diaries of Garry Shandling. It's produced and directed by Garry's close friend Judd Apatow, and it is magnificent.

A beautiful documentary about the legendary writer and comedian, it takes us back to the beginning and Shandling's roots while exploring the life events—like the death of his brother from cystic fibrosis, a meeting with George Carlin and hosting The Tonight Show—that left indelible impressions and defined him throughout his life.

Told through a series of interviews with his friends, family and fellow comedians, it doesn't take long at all to realize Shandling was indisputably one of the greats. His reach, influence and genius continues to be felt in every standup comic working and many of your favorite television shows.

Years ago, I had the great pleasure of meeting Shandling at a lunch with my friend Kevin. I wrote about it in this post I did when he passed away unexpectedly a couple years ago.

Since HBO is running the special (which you most definitely should see), and he's on my mind in a much more profound way than ever before, now felt like a good time to repost this.

"My friends say I have an intimacy problem, but they don't really know me." - Garry Shandling

Please to enjoy.

I had lunch with Garry Shandling in New York.

Years ago, the wife and I had gone back to visit our friend Kevin, who was living there and working on SNL at the time. We were going to meet him and his wife at the time for lunch at the now defunct Cafe Des Artistes. When we were confirming lunch, Kevin said, "I hope you don't mind, but I invited Shandling and one of his writers to join us."

We were good with it.

We all met at the restaurant, and there was an additional person at the table who I didn't know. Come to find out later he was the president of PETA, which Kevin's wife was very involved with.

Shandling sat next to my wife, and, either not knowing or not caring, spent most of the lunch talking to her and hitting on her. As you might imagine, it was hysterical.

I don't remember many of the lines, but at one point, obviously for the PETA president's benefit, he asked my wife, "I want to get a new haircut, but I'm nervous about how it'll look so I want to try it out on my dog first. Is that considered animal testing?"

A few weeks later, the wife and I were shopping on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica (where we lived at the time), and we wandered into this antique furniture store. We were looking at one of those two-person desks when Shandling walked in. We reminded him we'd all had lunch in New York, and had a nice conversation with him for about twenty minutes.

Here are a couple things he told us: he started out as a copywriter in New York, and ironically had written on Suntory Whiskey - an account I'd worked on at Wells Rich Greene early in my career (stops to laugh hysterically for using the word "career").

Early in 1998, I sat down and wrote two episodes of his influential and landmark Larry Sanders Show. I thought they were pretty good, and I asked Kevin if he'd read them and, if he liked them, would he mind passing them on to Garry.

Well, there's good news and bad news. The good news is Kevin liked the scripts. The bad news was it was right at the point when Garry was pulling the plug on the show. In comedy, timing is everything.

A couple years ago, the wife and I saw Shandling again at Kevin's birthday party. While it was a star-studded affair, we both felt a personal connection to him. We didn't know him well, but we'd been fortunate enough to spend time on the receiving end of his remarkable humor and unmistakable kindness.

I could go on about how revolutionary both It's Garry Shandling's Show and The Larry Sanders Show were, but you'll be hearing and reading a lot about that in the coming days. Besides, the work speaks for itself.

Sadly, and all too soon, as of this morning the world is a far less funny place. However, if you know anyone in heaven, you might want to let them know there's going to be a killer set tonight around 9pm at The Laff Stop on Cloud 9. Two drink minimum. Look for the brick wall and the mic.

You're in our hearts forever. Goodbye Garry. Rest in peace.

Where's my HBO documentary?

I've been watching the HBO documentary on Steven Spielberg, and enjoying it thoroughly. I'm learning things I never knew, like the Star Wars crawl at the opening was Brian DePalma's idea. That Spielberg has three sisters. That his mom divorced his dad then married his dad's best friend (floosy).

I'm certainly not about to compare myself to Spielberg. After all, we have very different skill sets. I've never directed an Academy Award winning film. He's never written a Hyundai banner ad.

I know, it doesn't sound as glamorous as what he does. But that's only because it's not.

The point is, I have lots of interesting things that've happened to me in my life, many of which I've written about here, that might add up to a swell HBO documentary. Or even a limited run series. I even have some ideas about who could play me in the dramatic recreations of pivotal events in my life. Depending on my weight at the time, it could run anywhere from Michael Fassbender to Kevin James. I might be getting ahead of myself.

Deep movie trailer announcer voice over: In a world where truth is stranger than fiction, this Tuesday at 9 on JEFF....

Sure, everyone has stories to tell, but not everyone's stories are deserving of a documentary. And lest you forget, I'm an only child. So we already know the world revolves around me.

Look, I have celebrity friends. I've locked myself in a hotel bathroom in New York. I buried both my parents (yes it was after they died). I've hung off the seventeenth floor of an apartment building. I've flown helicopters. I've worked with Advertising Hall of Fame legends. I've copped to my shortcomings, and taken responsibility for my mistakes. I've broken bones (yes they were mine).

It's been a life full of comedy, drama, action, romance and suspense. A story of love and loss, all based on true events. An epic tale of a life well lived - so far. Complex, emotional, heart-wrenching and, as anyone who knows me will tell you, filled with conflict. Like all the best stories.

Interesting characters? I've spent most of my adult life working in ad agencies—my life story is lousy with 'em.

When it comes to the A B C's of me, there's a lot of ground to cover. I think an experienced documentary filmmaker, someone like Ken Burns for example, would do a fine job of bringing perspective and meaning to the events that've shaped me. God knows someone has to.

An important element to any documentary is the narration, which means it's critical the voiceover chosen for the job imbues the proper tone and feeling of the subject matter. I'm thinking Morgan Freeman. I love what he did for those penguins.

With it's high standard of excellence, unrelenting attention to detail, long-standing relationships with the documentary filmmaker community, I really believe HBO is the only premium channel with the bona fides to do a life story like mine the justice it deserves.

And if for some reason they don't want it, I'll add some Nazis and dinosaurs and bring it to the History Channel.

Lost weekend

It's all a blur.

I wish I could say it was because I spent 48 hrs. in Vegas, non-stop drinking and gambling, maybe taking in a few shows. But sadly, no.

This past weekend was a total loss because that cold, flu-y bug that's been taking no prisoners finally came a knockin' at my door. Well, it came knocking at my wife's door about a week ago, so I knew it was only a matter of time.

Hard to imagine, but I'm not as pleasant a patient as you might think. At the beginning I'm fine—the part where it looks like I can go on with my life and work through it without having to carry around a box of Kleenex. But once we move on to phase two, the sore throat, runny nose, coughing up all colors of the rainbow, sneezing and other sordid bodily adventures, I'm not good about it at all.

I get that no one likes being sick. I just think I hate it more than most people.

All weekend long, I was taking naps in between CNN repeating news about the groper-in-chief's middle east trip and The Aviator playing over and over on HBO.

The other thing I hate is that my normally marginal level of productivity is reduced even more (I know, how would you know), and every little thing seems to take its toll.

Sunday morning, after two days of sweating through a fever and hot weather, I thought a shower was in order, not just for me but as a public service to my family. They all said it would make me feel better. It didn't. While I was in the shower it felt great, and I was tricked into thinking I was refreshed and felt good enough to get a few things done.

Come to find out it was only one thing: make a beeline back to my bed and take another nap.

The older I get, the longer it takes to bounce back from anything: colds, flu, bad movies, the price of sushi. I hate being reminded of that.

But I know that this too will end. Being the considerate individual I am, and the fact I'm still under the weather, I've decided to stay home from work today (you're welcome co-workers) and take care of myself.

Tomorrow, hopefully, I'll be back at it: showered, rested and ready to be marginally productive.

Getting the hang of Parenthood

Like many shows that've become favorites over the years, I got my first glimpse of Parenthood thanks to my wife. I'd caught a little bit of one episode she was watching, and I decided to binge the entire series with her (I know, so out of character for me).

It's an exceptional series.

If you've been following this blog for any amount of time, I think it's safe to say we know one thing about me: I'm a sap. So the idea of a show that leaves me in a reduced state of blubbering like a baby and searching for the Kleenex every week is right up my alley.

What the show gets so right is everything about what being a parent means - wanting the best for your kids, sharing their frustrations, soaring at their successes, the day-to-day frustrations that come with the job of being a parent. It also speaks to the unending ties of family, which, being an only child, I related to less but found myself wishing I'd had three siblings. That doesn't happen often. Ok, never.

The show's produced by Ron Howard and Brian Grazer, and is based on the Howard's movie of the same name. The cast, writing and direction would be exceptional for a cable network like HBO or Showtime, but they're extraordinary for network television.

Craig T. Nelson, or as I like to call him, Mr. Incredible, is the patriarch of the Braverman family. And he is magnificent. Bonnie Bedalia, or Holly McClane from Die Hard, is his wife. Peter Krause, Lauren Graham, Dax Shepard and Erika Christensen play their adult children. The show's pedigree is remarkable, and the chemistry between all of them is genuine.

Because I'm late to the party on a lot of shows, Netflix is a beautiful thing. Especially when you can find six seasons of a show the caliber Parenthood just waiting to be discovered. Of course, the problem with bingeing six seasons in a row is once it's over, you're hungry to find the next series to commit to.

But like I said, I'm late to a lot of parties. Hello Arrested Development.

Mob seen

My kids occasionally go away for three-day weekends. I'm never sure exactly where they go - camp, retreat, rehab. Wherever the hell it is, I know I sign the check for it. Usually it's one of them at a time, but this past week the stars aligned just right and they were both gone at the same time, leaving my wife and I to our own devices for three days.

Naturally we took the opportunity to engage in some adult activity that's difficult to do when the kids are around.

We had a non-stop Sopranos-thon.

I don't know how long HBO has been showing reruns of The Sopranos, but I stumbled onto them last week. Monday through Friday afternoons, we record the shows. This weekend we caught up with all of them.

Not sure what season it is, but we're at the part involving Ralphie played by Joe Pantoliano (Joey Pants to his friends). I don't remember every detail from the first time around, but I do remember it doesn't end well for Ralphie. Also Christopher's wife Adriana has just found out that her new best friend is an FBI agent who's been taping her. I don't want to go into to much detail about how she reacts when she finds out, other than to say projectile vomiting is always a nice touch.

It's an absolute pleasure to see the nuance, subtlety, loyalty and savagery of Tony Soprano and family living by their own bent rules while confronting the same problems we all do.

It's "leave the gun, take the cannoli" television at its best.

Bad Luck

At the risk of putting my hoof in my mouth, I'm going to take an unpopular position. I know it's unpopular because Facebook has been all a twitter about it (notice the subtle yet deliberate blending of two social networks in the same sentence).

I don't think HBO should have cancelled Luck. At least not for the reason they did.

Because three horses have had to be put down since the series began shooting at Santa Anita Racetrack, HBO decided to cancel the series. I don't think that's the real reason, but more on that in a minute.

It's unrelentingly heartbreaking that three horses died in the making of the show. But sad as it is, I'm pretty sure it wasn't the series that killed them. However you'd never know that if you've been online today.

Judging from the reaction on the interwebs, there seems to be a lot of agreement that Hollywood should never make a movie with horses in it again.

Goodbye Seabiscuit. So long Secretariat. I'll never forget you Black Beauty. You were a good friend Flicka.

War Horse? That's just crazy talk.

If that's going to be the policy going forward, it's also going to rule out westerns. And movies like Ben Hur. Maybe all those extras can pull the chariots instead.

I completely understand the emotion behind the anger. Everyone loves horses. My wife's family used to stable and breed thoroughbred race horses for years at their ranch in Northern California (important safety tip: never walk behind a thoroughbred). But the fact is it's not like the 40's and 50's when studios were using trip wires to make horses fall. In this latest incident, the horse got spooked while being walked back to the stable, reared up and fell over backwards injuring it's head and breaking it's neck. The first two suffered permanent leg injuries during racing scenes. Just like horses do sometimes in real races.

In those scenes the horses were being ridden by professional jockeys, not actors or production assistants. And the entire shoot was being monitored and supervised by the Humane Society. Here's what HBO had to say about it:

"We maintained the highest safety standards throughout production, higher in fact than any protocols existing in horseracing anywhere with many fewer incidents than occur in racing or than befall horses normally in barns at night or pastures. While we maintained the highest safety standards possible, accidents unfortunately happen and it is impossible to guarantee they won't in the future. Accordingly, we have reached this difficult decision."

I tend to believe them when they say they took every precaution possible. There's really no upside for them to have horses dying on set.

I'm a little more skeptical about it being a "difficult decision" to cancel the series.

HBO ordered a second season of the show after the pilot aired. While they were excited about it, the viewers weren't. And with Dustin Hoffman, Nick Nolte and Dennis Farina as stars of the show, and Michael Mann and David Milch as producers, they had a very expensive flop on their hands. A flop they'd just renewed.

So the horse accidents gave them an out and they took it. This isn't to say they don't genuinely feel awful about what happened. I'm sure they do. At the same time, I imagine they also feel a certain amount of relief that they were able to cut their losses.

The tagline for the series is "Leave nothing to chance." Unfortunately even when you take every precaution, in Hollywood, as in horse racing, that's not always possible.