my Cosby Show spec script

INT. HUXTABLE HOME – DAY

BILL COSBY enters and is FUCKING HILARIOUS FOR 22 MINUTES.

END CREDITS

the last thing i ever said that made my dad laugh.

as my mom drove me to malden catholic high school (go lancers!) on the morning of wednesday, april 12, 1995, we were discussing our upcoming trip to the oregon shakespeare festival with my teenage theatre program. she was to be one of the adult chaperones. we both agreed that if we came back in 1 week to find our home burned to the ground, we would not be surprised.

“we’ll come home and find dad out on the back porch, drinking a martini with his feet up in the lounge chair,” i said. “we’ll ask him what happened to the house?! and he’ll answer it got in my way!”

that cracked her up. after she dropped me off at school she drove home, had coffee in the kitchen with him, and told him what i’d said. they had a good laugh about it.

a few minutes later, while he was upstairs getting ready for work, he suffered a massive coronary and (we believe) died instantaneously.

someone asked me if i had said “goodbye” to him that morning and i couldn’t remember. but i know that i made a wisecrack and that wisecrack travelled back to him and he laughed. and frankly, that’s good enough for me. because that’s how we communicated: we mocked each other mercilessly. him for being bald, me for being short, him for being bald, me for being an alien they’d adopted as a baby, him for being bald. (the irony is that i’m now balder than he ever was.)

over the years i have had to come to terms with how flawed he was and that hasn’t been easy. mostly (and most obviously) in the health and taking-care-of-himself department. when he died he was 52 and overweight and prone to great stress and somehow we were shocked that he died suddenly from a heart attack. he had a wicked temper which he violently exerted on inanimate objects. he never took me to fenway park.

(that last one hurts the most.)

but he was the funniest, smartest, kindest, most insightful man i’ve ever known. everybody — everybody– liked him. and it wasn’t because he was extremely outgoing or boisterous and he wasn’t trying to make friends with everyone in the room. it was because he was genuine and honest, he was interested in people, and he was always quick with a joke — never at anyone’s expense (well, maybe mine, but by the ripe age of 8, i could take it as well as i could dish it out) — but just for the sake of making someone smile. he had a quick wit, razor-sharp, and his humor ranged from the highest brow to the lowest schmaltz.

i have spent over 2 years trying to become a healthier person and for the most part, i’ve succeeded. i’m now a healthy, average weight for my height. i don’t eat meat (though i do eat fish). i exercise on a regular basis. i want to live long enough to see my children (assuming and hoping they will someday exist) graduate high school, college, and become flourishing adults. i yearn for the day when i will take them to fenway for the first time.

i haven’t worked out the stress thing, not quite, not exactly. and i confess that i have the same violent temper and to prove it, the doors have scuff marks from angry kicks and my past is littered with broken tchotchkies.

in many ways, i am trying to be less like my father. that’s a very difficult yet also a very good thing.

but my dad taught me how to laugh and he taught me how to make other people laugh, especially in life’s most difficult moments.

and for that i’ll always love him.

he called us "little monsters." when we were bad he threatened to "bang our heads together." we wrestled with him. we watched "the simpsons" together. we brought our mom slimy reptiles we found in the backyard (which made her scream in terror) because he shouted with delight "mom loves that stuff!"

my bar mitzvah at the end of the night. thank goodness one of us was sober enough to drive home.

my mom's father: grandpa. his name was ben but nobody called him that. to everyone he was "jessel," a nickname i never understood until well after he was gone.

me and my dad just before i moved to l.a. in 2008. this was the first time i had visited him since 1995 but he was kind enough to not give me a hard time about it.

raindance.

i woke up this morning at 7am, as is my custom most days, in order to run. very proud of myself as i’ve recently gotten up to 3 miles per day. on this particular friday morning, however, i got all dressed up for nothing: it’s raining. i suppose a more dedicated type than me would shrug it off but i won’t do it. wet. slippery. icky. back to bed.

but that’s not my issue. my issue is that it’s raining. in los angeles. IN JUNE. don’t misunderstand me. i’m not complaining – i’m mystified. and part of me is starting to wonder if my mood has been affecting the weather.

my personal and professional stress has put me in such a downbeat funk that i’m genuinely concerned that i’ve wrought this dismal weather pattern down on this fine region typically known for “75 and sunny” on a daily basis.

if that’s the case, los angeles, you have my deepest and sincerest apologies. and i promise i shall do my best to lift myself out of this.

to stop allowing the bastards to grind me down.

to stop longing for things and people i cannot have.

to turn karma around in my favor, goddammit, because i’m the boss of me.

i’m a driver, i’m a winner.

things are gonna change, i can feel it.

an unscientific study of most common license plate states-of-origin in the los angeles area.

1) california

2) illinois

3) massachusetts

4) florida

5) nevada

taking a hike. (more often).

2 months ago, upon returning from a fantastic weekend out in joshua tree, i vowed to “do this more often.” and by “do” i meant “hike” and by “this” i meant “in nature” and by “more often” i meant “all the time.”

well, a few days ago i realized that i had failed to make good on my vow. so over the holiday weekend, i tossed some friends in the ford focus (hi troeltsch and lorelei!) and headed out to angeles national forest to explore pacoima canyon. check out these photos of me all up in nature and shit.

we were hereabouts.

 

pretty.

lorelei knew the names of all the flowers and shit. i do not remember any of them.

except these. these are called monkey flowers. i remember that because monkeys are funny.

not quite grizzly adams.

we did some stream hoppin'.

 

pickaxcalibur!

i was promised giant pinecones but all i got was this lousy giant tree.

more pretty. aren't you glad mike taught me about "macro" mode on my camera?

road trip rememberies: part 7

may 25, 2008 was the final day of our trek.

and you had doubts.

driving. all day. lots of desert. and the cacti that brian really likes. we breezed into l.a. at about 7pm. unloaded brian’s stuff. i’m still half-in and
half-out of my car.

dinner at a cuban place in culver city. fantastic plantains.

now, beer.

good night everyone. thanks for tuning in!

CDs logged: orange blossom special (johnny cash); tommy (the who); nuggets, volume 2; vampire weekend (again, for brian); the harder they come (jimmy cliff); beach boys greatest hits, volumes 1 and 2.
2 Responses:
  Adam Says:
  May 27th, 2008 at 9:46 am
  Congratulations
  [.]
  The Rodenator Says:
  June 3rd, 2008 at 3:58 pm
  By Cuban place in Culver City, do you mean Versailles or El Rincon? 

  [.]

we never found out what THE THING was. well, we did, but about 10 months later when brian googled it.

3,940 miles in 7 days and 6 nights.

road trip rememberies: part 6

on saturday, may 24, 2008, we visited the sacred alien landing grounds at roswell, new mexico. we also played in the white sands of, well, White Sands.

“now, how can you be from boston when you don’t have no dang accent?”

we’ve now crossed 2 time zones and are in a state without daylight savings time (”because it’s stupid,” said one arizonian avec twang). i’m a bit washed in the head, and there’s a lot to cover. so here we go!

we escaped from hobbs with hardly a scratch. however, as i jogged along north marland, a big angry dog in a pickup truck started yelling at me, causing me to jump about 6 feet in the air and fear for my life (he was really pissed off). finished my jog and got the hell outta dodge.

then, a 3-hour drive to roswell, new mexico, where a ufo ostensibly crashed about 60 years ago and was subsequently covered up by the government. in short, awesome. we laid down our 5 bucks and visited the international ufo museum and research center (www.roswellufomuseum.com) — and yes, we also thought it should really be the “intergalactic” ufo museum and reasearch center. it’s everything you want it to be and more! roswell’s main drag is a smorgasbord of ufo-jokey-gift shops and local businesses that milk the alien thing as much as possible. it’s a nerd paradise! i bought a magnet.

then, a long-ass drive through new mexico until we reached white sands national park, an 8-mile area featuring huge white sand dunes, caused by natural forces that we learned about in a video, but promptly forgot. thanks for the suggestion, everyone — we loved it. it’s a beautiful area, and we had a ton of fun playing around in the sand — which felt like a weird cross between a snowstorm and a beach. some fantastic photos will be part of the huge glut of pictures to be uploaded next week.

it was a long, dry, warm drive to get into arizona, but we finally made it across the border. we got to our best western in willcox at about 8pm — only to find that it was actually 7pm in arizona. once situated at the “hopi lounge” to watch the celtics/pistons game (celts win their first postseason road game! woooot!), our awesome bartendress, sue, explained the thing about arizona not participating in daylight savings time (”because it’s stupid.”) sue was great. after 2 dos equis, she said to me: “i know you’re a transplant to boston, because you don’t got no boston accent,” at which point i laughed and explained that i had lived in boston my whole life.

ahh, the south and southwest. nearly empty bars. cowboy hats. spurs. twangs. racial epithets dropped in casual convesation. and fucking excellent hot sauce. this time tomorrow, we live in los angeles. anyone want to give me a job?

CDs logged: the age of plastic (the buggles); the crane wife (the decemberists); darkness on the edge of town (bruce springsteen); full moon fever, into the great wide open, wildflowers (tom petty); made in the dark (hot chip); magic (bruce springsteen); nuggest, volume 1.

 
 
7 Responses:
  Troeltsch Says:
  May 25th, 2008 at 3:20 am
  what did you think of nuggets?
  [.]
  Lorelei Says:
  May 25th, 2008 at 3:35 am
  Judging by my own TX-to-CA road trip, during which I spent the night in a frat house in Tucson, you should be in LA before or around sundown tomorrow. It  would help if you, unlike me, fail to lose your wallets in Tucson and then   freak out about it in the Phoenix suburbs.
  [.]
  Troeltsch Says:
  May 25th, 2008 at 3:40 am
  i thought you were going to santa fe. Why the change?
  [.]
  DoorFrame Says:
  May 25th, 2008 at 10:20 am
  That route would have involved a 10.5 hour driving day, which would have been a lot longer than the 8/8.5 hour driving days we’ve been doing.   Plus, this route brings us through Yuma (right along the border) and then San   Diego. It’s a trade-off.
  [.]
  Troeltsch Says:
  May 25th, 2008 at 2:00 pm
  You’re taking the 8? Big mistake, but too late to do anything about it, I guess. Plenty of time to see SD later.
  [.]
  nach Says:
  May 27th, 2008 at 6:33 pm
  one day i’ll make it to the ufo museum. it better be quick, because i think my parents are moving out of hobbs in a year and a half  your writing about hobbs is cracking me up.
  [.]
  DoorFrame Says:
  May 28th, 2008 at 1:23 am
  Hobbs had a lot going for it. And by a lot, I mean oil derricks.
  [.]

 

i'm in a ufo state of mind.

the great white desert. almost had to leave brian behind.

road trip rememberies: part 5

by friday, may 23, 2008, texas had begun to wear us down. the alamo was a highlight, lunch was not, and we ended up in a honky-tonk in hobbs, new mexico.

texas; and beyond the infinite.

friday was a fun and harrowing day (aren’t they all?)

started out heading north to san antone, where we saw the alamo. i desperately wanted to ask where the basement is, but it’s just not that kind of environment. lots of school groups, no official tour, wandering, and hard-core sherrif-looking people guarding the important stuff. it was way cool.

then we had lunch in a mall food court. meh.

but the best part was the long afternoon drive northward towards new mexico. lots of really pretty landscapes, plateaus, mesas(?) and brush. the highways are long and traffic is sparse. temperatures reached the 100s, it feels, but we (and the car) were fine.

also, we saw a really giant shovel attached to a truck: clearly some kind of construction tool. it was mobile and terrifying to pass. it was yellow. brian loved it.

finally, after about 7 hours, we reached our fiday night stomping ground of hobbs, new mexico — birthplace and home of our very own nacho. nacho’s hometown is under some construction right now, so the main drag is a little baffling and scary. and there was some drama regarding finding the motel. but the less said about that, the better.

we’ve crossed another time zone! two down, one to go.

but the good news is that across the street there’s a steakhouse with a bar. go lakers!

CDs logged: greetings from asbury park, born to run, nebraska, born in the usa,
the rising (bruce springsteen); london calling (the clash); scarecrow (john
mellencamp); i get wet (andrew w.k.); appetite for destruction (guns ‘n roses).

***update: “us red sox fans aren’t doing too well tonight.”

so, an update. on nacho’s suggestion, we ate at cattle baron, a steakhouse/seafood/salad bar. we thoroughly enjoyed the salad bar, the bread, the spinach artichoke dip, and i had a good time with a “fat tire” on draught, a nice caramel-ish amber wheat ale. entrees were good if not overly impressive: brian liked his steak and i thought the catfish was a solid choice, though i harbor a teensy bit of regret over not trying the orange-bourbon salmon.

but enough of that: we drove back to our motel, parked the car, and headed right across the street to the hobbs family inn, where if you enter a forbidding door off the lobby, you will find a tiny little divey honky-tonk, complete with cowboy hats, spurs, and a guitarist playing country against a drum machine. faneffingtastic. a whole host of oddities await you in this little space — and the beer (no daught; bottles only) runs you a cool 3 bucks.

after a few rounds, we were about ready to jet, since it was getting crowded. but not before i bonded with a tall thin latino dude wearing a red sox hat — he verified his sox status with a huge grin, wide arms, and his proclamation: “i love big papi!” and we high-fived.

after a few minutes, he turns to me and says: “man, it’s nothing but old ladies in here!” and we laughed. i shook my head and defended myself: “don’t ask me, i’m from outta town.” he says: “i don’t think us red sox fans are doing too well tonight.”

now we’re trying to book for tucson. 48 hours from now, we’ll be in los angeles.

2 Responses:
  nach Says:
  May 24th, 2008 at 11:15 am
  HAHA! I can’t believe you actually drove through Hobbs. You are the 2nd and 3rd of my east coast friends to actually make it out there… and the first  without me being around.  Country music bars are always good fun. No one takes himself seriously. Plus you can see a good two step once in awhile.
  [.]
  JW Says:
  May 24th, 2008 at 8:45 pm
  Old ladies? You mean cougars…
  [.]

the alamo. i did not ask about the basement. it just seemed inappropriate.

anywhere, usa.

road trip rememberies: part 4

on day 4 of our journey, may 22, 2008, i had one of the greatest sandwiches i’ve ever experienced. i heart texas.

jody leigh’s and thirsty thursdays, or, man, i love texas!

huzzah for thirsty thursdays! but more on that later. your humble narrator was feeling penitent after the n’orleans gorgefest, so i started out the day with a muggy/humid 10-lap run around the parking lot of our hotel in baton rouge. after some fruit salad and a sorta-stale biscuit, we hit the road again.

a little bit about driving: brian and i have developed a regular schedule. i typically drive the ford from 9am-ish until 2:30 or so (with a lunch stop), while brian drives in the afternoons to whatever “fun” destination we’ve planned (dinner, e.g.) and then to our hotel at night. works pretty well — but for some reason, i seem to get all of the roadwork during my drive time. also, it leaves me with an inability to take photos, since i’m driving, so most of my pictures/videos are taken after 4pm.

and, oh yeah, there are a shitload of dead bugs all across my windshield. totally gross! we clean at every gas stop — but they just keep committing buggy suicide on my ride.

when in texas, i highly recommend stopping in vidor and having lunch at jody leigh’s, a darlin’ little roadside stop that might just be the best and friendliest meal you’ll have all day. great timing: the skies opened up and poured in a flashy lightning show — but only for the exact 45 minutes we were scarfing down our lunch. nice! our waitress was a hoot (although brian keeps calling her a “filthy liar” for telling us we wouldn’t get to corpus christi until dark — we arrived well before the sun went down). i had the cajun shrimp burger with grilled onions and grilled jalapenos. it was incredible.

hilarious signs decorating jody leigh’s walls: “fat people are harder to kidnap,” “honey, i didn’t ask you to dance, i said you look fat in those pants.” also, there was a giant chicken statue outside. everything about this place was great.

then, a long-ass drive to corpus christi. we arrived at 6:30pm, just in time for a game at whattaburger field, home of the corpus christi hooks (houston’s triple-A affiliate)! astros pitcher wandy rodriguez got the start, so that was cool. it’s a beautiful, newish park — and oddly enough, they have a mini-citgo sign out in right field, that lights up in the same patterns as the big citgo sign in kenmore square. the hooks dropped a close one, 4-3, but hey — today was thirsty thursday! that means draught beers were half-price! wooooot! i love minor league parks: i got a slice of pizza, a jalapeno-stuffed pretzel, and 2 huge beers, all for 12 bucks.

quick fantasy baseball update: thanks to a mike lowell grand slam (!), i’m kicking the crap out of brian! best. trip. EVER!

now we’re at our hotel — a drury inn. everyone’s so nice down here, and generally pretty funny. the check-in guy was no exception. even though brian rented the room, he asked for my name, “in case of emergency. o’ course, i always plan my emergencies for earlier in the week, so you should be fine.” and, oh yeah, they have a treadmill.

CDs logged: smile (the jayhawks); the ghosts that haunt me (crash test dummies); time was (steve barkhimer); morrison hotel (the doors); being there (wilco); post-war (m. ward); honeycomb (frank black); venue songs (they might be giants).
 
5 Responses:
  Troeltsch Says:
  May 23rd, 2008 at 1:10 am
  whataburger field! seems like a great place for an invitational!
  [.]
  Troeltsch Says:
  May 23rd, 2008 at 1:12 am
  Also, I LOVE Drury Inns. As they say “the extras aren’t extra.” Like, (at least at the one we stayed in in Houston) free beer at happy hour, free breakfast with eggs and waffles and sausage, free wireless, free gym, and we  paid something like $50-60 a night.
  [.]
  Lorelei Says:
  May 23rd, 2008 at 2:01 am
  The eggs were powdered, dude. However, the price was right. Are we gonna hear from Brian, or are you the mouthpiece in this partnership?
  [.]
  DoorFrame Says:
  May 23rd, 2008 at 9:36 am
  I’m the belligerent co-pilot. I speak infrequently.
  [.]
  Tom Says:
  May 23rd, 2008 at 12:30 pm
  Even reading the menu is giving me heartburn.
  [.]

yep.

whattaburger field, home of the corpus christi hooks. nice citgo sign!

road trip rememberies: part 3

on may 21, 2008, we drove through maybe 20 states en route to new orleans. we also drove over a really long bridge. then there was pie. it was awesome.

i like taking pictures of food and the waitstaff should be flattered.

another long day. georgia, alabama, mississippi, and louisiana in just 9 hours. holy shit!

we were barely in georgia this morning, hitting the road at 9:30am and rocketing right into alabama. brian is having a hell of a hard time maintaining his goal of buying a souvenir shotglass in every state — and i gave up on my similar idea of postcard-collecting a few days ago. some of these rest stops just aren’t very well stocked with such goods. corn nuts, yes. casino gambling, sure. miniature confederate flags, you bet. shotglasses and postcards? surprisingly lacking.

a little after noon, we decided to “get lost” in greenville, alabama and find a local lunch spot. we’re frankly tired of subways and other chains. so we found the “historic” downtown greenville (all 2 blocks of it) and had a delightful lunch at “the chef’s table,” a cute little buffet-style spot run by a slew of lil’ old ladies who were jus’ darlin’, and chided brian for not eating enough. your humble narrator, however, gorged himself on the fish sandwich, cornbread and fried okra.

there were a few dodgy gas stations and rest stops on the way — including RJ’s barbecue exxon, where you can get 2 bbq sandwiches for $6, and the aforementioned confederate flag mementos.

then the exciting part. we convinced mandy, our lovely little GPS helper, to take us the long way into n’orleans — via the lake pontchartrain causeway. it consists of two parallel bridges that, together, make up the longest bridge in the world (in total length). it was quite lovely and extremely bumpy. we were on it for 20-25 minutes to get to jefferson parish. you know, where all that shit went down.

and then — n’orleans! we valet parked in the french quarter and wandered around until we found a menu good for both of us (brian doesn’t like spicy food or fish. why exactly am i friends with him?) we settled on la bayou restaurant (la has an accent of some sort over it) and it was rad. first of all, they recommended an albida amber ale (albida’s a local brewery) and delivered it in a giant 22-oz plastic cup. then, we were offered an albida summer wheat — which may be (actually, IS) even better than a sam summer.

for dinner? brian went with a filet mignon (”good, but spicy” — how are those two adjectives distinct?!) and me — i went with the special, which was an incredible pesto with gulf shrimp, crab meat, and crawfish. holy crap, it was incredible. and for dessert? why, the pecan pie with vanilla bean ice cream, of course! at this point, i was drunk and taking photos of the food because, well, how else would i remember it? the waitstaff was baffled. one waitress stood behind me quizzically. the bartender came over and said: “man, that pie looks so good, i’ma gonna take a pitcher of it — oh wait, you already did!” we all had a laugh. then i ate delicious, delicious pie.

next, a lovely drive over more bridges and marshland to get to baton rouge, where we now lay our weary heads. but only for a few minutes, because the second half of lakers-spurs is starting up soon, and there’s a bar named corky’s just a couple of yards away!

CDs logged: out of time, accelerate (2 albums by rem); the stage names (okkervil river); highway 61 revisited (bob dylan); state songs (john linnell); 12 golden country greats (ween); blood on the tracks (bob dylan); ghost colors (cut copy).

 
 
2 Responses:
  crazymonk Says:
  May 21st, 2008 at 11:51 pm
  Corky’s! That ain’t no normal bar, that’s a well-known BBQ chain. My friend Jason’s family, who were originally from the South, used to bring up loads of   Corky’s BBQ sauce up to Connecticut for long-term use.
  [.]
  Lorelei Says:
  May 22nd, 2008 at 1:37 am
  You did BUY the Confederate flag knickknacks, right?
  [.]

the lake pontchartrain bridge (2 bridges side-by-side, actually) is the longest ass bridge ever.

they made fun of me for taking this picture. i take pictures of everything. especially food. especially delicious pie.