My new favorite teacher

I'm not going to bury the lead, I'll just come right out with it. My new favorite teacher is Mr. Hayashino. I say new favorite, because I just met him tonight for the first time at my daughter's high school Back To School Night.

If you don't have kids you may not be familiar with Back To School Night. Almost every school has one. It happens at the beginning of the school year, usually on a night there's a major sporting event or a television program you've been waiting three months to see.

Parents follow their child's curriculum, going from class to class between bells, cramming ourselves in the students' chairs and listening to their teachers give an overview of who they are, what they teach and what they expect from both us and the students.

They have ten minutes to do it before the bell rings and everyone hustles onto the next class.

Tonight, I met my daughter's chemistry teacher, Mr. Hayashino. I know, I said chemistry. I'm sure for those of you who follow this blog with any kind of regularity, you already see where this is going. And it's going exactly where you think it is.

I'm not sure what Mr. Hayashino was saying during his allotted ten minutes. I was busy looking at the Periodic Chart, trying to find the element symbols that spelled Felina, which as I'm sure you know was the name of the series finale episode of Breaking Bad.

When the bell rang, I went up to Mr. Hayashino, introduced myself and asked if he'd watched Breaking Bad since it's required viewing for chemistry teachers. He said he saw the series - all of it - for the first time this summer. I told him I'd binged it six times. He was duly impressed.

We immediately started talking about chemicals, cooks and how we have to get together and talk some more about the show. Twist my arm.

So this semester, I'm going to be taking a keen interest in how my daughter is doing in school. I'll monitor her progress, and talk to the teachers when necessary.

When I get to her chemistry class again, I'll ask the teacher, "Who the hell are you?"

And if Mr. Hayashino's the chemistry teacher I think he is, I'm pretty sure his answer will be, "You know who I am. You all know. Now say my name."

The pleasure that is Platt

There's an entire class of actors I feel are underrated. They're usually something more than character actors, yet somewhat less than lead actors.

It's in this sweet spot that Oliver Platt lives. He's been one of my favorites for years.

Whether it's White House lead counsel in The West Wing, Warren Beatty's nervous, cocaine-fueled campaign manager in Bulworth, acidic restaurant critic Ramsey Michel in last year's Chef or Cameron's gay bowling adversary on last night's Modern Family, Platt's characters are fully realized, unique and completely organic. He couldn't make a false move if he tried.

Full disclosure: years ago I started writing a television show for Platt before my complete lack of discipline did me in. Again. I'm working on it, okay? Back off.

Anyway, it was about two lawyers who were also brothers. One went to prestigious Harvard law school, and the other went to the Saul Goodman law school in Samoa. Through a series of events, they wind up in practice together, and the néer-do-well brother winds up teaching his Harvard grad broheim a thing or two about the real meaning of the law.

Along the way, hilarity ensues.

Like so many other projects of mine languishing in a drawer or on a disc somewhere, I never finished writing it. But each time I see Oliver Platt onscreen, my muse is rekindled and I start thinking about maybe easing into working on it again.

He deserves a great show of his own, and I'd like to be the one to create it for him.

Like Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Gene Hackman, John Cazale, Jon Polito, Michael McKean and a dozen more, Oliver Platt's presence in a project elevates it far beyond where it would've been without him.

Of course now that I've spilled the beans on the lawyer/brother idea, I'll have to come up with something else.

I'll do my best to make it worthy of him.

CPK WTF

The California Pizza Kitchen I knew and loved is no more. It was acquired about three years ago by private equity firm Golden Gate Capital.

Sounds appetizing doesn't it?

Originally, CPK was the poor mans answer to Wolfgang Puck's legendary Spago restaurant, which ushered in the era of individual pizzas.

At the beginning, CPK felt upscale even though it was reasonable price wise. There were linen napkins. The waitstaff work black slacks, white buttoned up shirts and black ties. Somewhere down the road they changed to black shirts as well, which made it even more ritzy-ish.

And of course, there was the food.

It's hard to imagine now, but at the time their Original BBQ Chicken Pizza was all the rage. Plus they offered an original selection with toppings no one had thought to throw on a pizza before. California Club pizza (essentially a BLT on pizza dough). Hamburger pizza. Thai pizza. They had those and more - something for every taste.

I can't even count the number of meals, meetings, dates and family dinners I've had there over the years. And because they were a quality chain, from my first meal at the original restaurant on Beverly Drive, to the one in the Mirage in Vegas, to the one on Geary St. in San Francisco, I always looked forward to my meal and knew I was going to enjoy it.

But of course, as my high school girlfriend told me on our final date, there's a last time for everything.

Since Golden Gate Capital acquired them, everything has gone downhill except the prices. The uniforms are now open-collar checked or brightly colored shirts and jeans. It feels more like a Texas Roadhouse than a CPK. It's only a matter of time before there's sawdust on the floor and a mechanical bull.

And under the heading of fix it when it's not broken, they've changed the crust of the pizza to something considerably less tasty. They've taken many of my favorite items off the menu - Roast Garlic Shrimp pizza, I'll never forget you.

They've also done a little Three-Card Monte with the names of some menu items. What was their spectacular Original Chopped Salad is now called the Italian Chopped. And the BBQ Chicken Chopped now has "The Original" in front of the name.

One change I'll admit to liking is the bread, now a more Italian look, taste and presentation.

But the bread isn't enough to justify the ridiculous prices they now charge for a decidedly lower brow, too casual experience. With a family of four, ordering the very minimum we can get by with and no drinks (water for everyone), we're hard pressed to get out for under $60 before tip.

Fortunately, the new owners realized one thing missing from the old CPK was a manifesto - that precise group of words to let the dining public know their philosophy about what California stands for, what it means and why they needed to rework the menu into something really special.

Manifestos are something I happen to have some experience with. I've written my fair share of them, and since Apple have yet to encounter a client that doesn't want one.

Reading theirs, it's apparent to me the words, sentiment and their take on California are as authentic as the notion they won't unload the chain in a heartbeat for the right price.