Single Guy vs. Married Guy, Part 2

At 9:16pm, my AOL Instant Messenger popped up with a message from a friend of mine. To protect his identity, I’m calling him “Sherlock.” (He believes that “women are mysterious puzzles to be solved.”) Sherlock is single, successful, influential, entrepreneurial, and – did I mention single? (He recently started a Twitter account a day ago, too: @IamSherlockSays) We met many years ago through a mutual friend while in Vegas at a bachelor party. The moment I realized I liked him was when I saw him keep his cool while ordering room service as we slowly raised the volume on the pornographic movie that was playing in the background. By the end of the call, the television was so loud (and we were laughing so hard) that the concierge probably thought we were having fun killing a hooker. Sherlock wasn’t even fazed.

Sherlock and I still stay in touch, but not often enough. He’s been a real friend through the good times and the bad. And, he is also that bastard friend who likes to remind me how good life can be when you’re single with no kids.

Sherlock: “Where you been all day?”

Me:  “Hell. You?”

Sherlock: “Can I send you a picture? It will help!”

Me: “Sure. I’m just here working.”

The next thing that appeared on my computer screen was an attachment. As I waited for it to open, he sent another note:

Sherlock: “This is what I woke up to this morning.”

All of a sudden, my work disappeared, and one of the most amazing breasts I’ve ever seen appeared on my laptop. It was damn near perfect. I don’t know if it was a gift from god or man-made and I did not care.

Me: “Ok, Explain.”

Sherlock: “She’s a friend.”

Me: “I have lots of friends. None of them show me their tits.”

He then proceeded to tell me how they met, what they did, and when she left. It’s at that moment that I truly realized how different our lives were. He is single and able to mingle! I am married, with kids. I love my wife and I would never do anything to mess that up. But, I’m also a guy…in Hollywood…where each woman is more beautiful than the last. There is temptation everywhere. But, I will never cave to the temptation because I cherish my wife and I like my stuff too much. I live by the golden rule – “It’s cheaper to keep ‘er.”

Me: “Jeez. Our lives are very different. You woke up to a beautiful breast and I woke up to shit in a diaper. Very…brown…shit…. in a diaper!!”

Sherlock: “Did I mention that I made her so excited that she soaked through the sheets?”

Me: “Did I mention that I made two children pop out of my wife?”

Another attachment appeared, this one was of a beautiful woman cupping her breasts in a seductive pose lying on a bed.

Me: “Again, Explain!”

Sherlock: “A friend of mine from two months ago who posed for me.”

And then another attachment appeared. Same girl, full length shot, very naked.

Sherlock: “She’s a great little Jewish girl from the OC”

Me: “Um….Jewish girls don’t do stuff like this. I should know. I married one.”

And then a fourth attachment appeared. It looked like a sunset. I looked closer. I was wrong. It was not a sunset.

Sherlock: “She sent me this one as a ‘don’t forget about me’ shot.”

Me: “You are a bastard.”

Sherlock: “I figured you can use a little photographic happiness this week. I’m gonna go. The show is going to start in a few moments.”

Me: “What show? Where are you?”

Sherlock: “Oh, didn’t I tell you? At a friend’s showcase on the Westside now. Going to watch her gyrate! Talk tomorrow. Lolol.”

And with that, he was gone.

I’ll admit it. I was a little jealous…but, not for the reasons you might imagine. I was pissed because I was missing the age of dating when technology became a crucial aspect of courtship. When I was dating and I wanted to see a naked girl, she had to be right in front of me. Today, girls can send naked pictures of themselves to guys as just a tease!! It’s not fair!!

There is an upside to all of this. By the time Justin and Garrett become interested in girls, the technology should be so advanced that girls will be sending them full length holograms of themselves!

Go To Your Room

"To Kill a Mockingbird"

Yesterday afternoon, I terminated my relationship with an important client. It was a very difficult decision to make, but it became an inevitability. It wasn’t because he wasn’t talented, employable, or recognizable. On the contrary, he was all of those things and more. I ultimately ended our working relationship due to his uncontrollably bad behavior. I had great hopes for the next stage in his career and I had worked tirelessly to help him achieve his goals. But now, as I sit here sifting through the rubble of this disaster…I’m completely exhausted from weeks of negotiating on this client’s behalf, which have now gone to waste. And, I am disheartened by my failure to recognize and aid a client who was on a downward spiral of his own doing.

There is a lesson here and I’m still trying to figure out what it is. Many questions keep coming to mind – What steps can I take to prevent my sons from becoming men who are not ruled nor ruined by their own demons? How do I impress upon them that their actions (both good and bad) will not only affect them, but greatly impact those around them? And, how do I instill enough confidence in them so that they never have to rely on their vices for strength?

I’ve tried to show Justin “right” from “wrong”, encouraged him to demonstrate acts of kindness and compassion, and I’ve demanded that Justin show respect to all those around him. Whenever Justin has misbehaved, he has been reprimanded. Even at this young age, he understands that his actions had consequences. If he did something wrong, he got sent to his room. Yet, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I don’t have the answers I’m looking for.

So, here is a note for “Future Garrett” and “Future Justin”:

Boys – Sometimes life is going to be harder than you expected it to be. It’s at those moments when you will be judged by your actions. It’s easy to be “good” when everything is going well and it’s very easy to be “bad” when the dark clouds come and nothing is going the way you expected. There will be moments when you want to run away from your problems and there will be other times when you may want to seek solace where it should not be sought. I promise you that if you stay true to your word, put your faith and trust in those people who love and support you, and stay honest  – you will never be judged poorly.

As for my former client…he is not my child. I cannot “ground” him or send him to his room without supper. I can simply say, “thank you.” Without his actions, I would not have begun to think about how to shape my boys into honorable men.

There’s No Business like Show Business

Over the past 16 years, I’ve been battered, bruised, beaten, fired, ignored, screamed at, fired again, hung up on, lied to, lied about, cursed at, had things thrown at my head, been threatened, been forced to perform an illegal (or at the very least, “morally ambiguous”) activity or two, and been left for dead by an industry that I loved. And still, after all of that, I consider myself to be one of the lucky ones. I’m still here. There are people who still trust my guidance and wisdom and somehow, I keep getting up after being knocked down. This is the true definition of “unrequited love.”

By day, I am a Hollywood Talent Manager and I am currently responsible for the careers of 25 talented, (mostly) recognizable, and (mostly) employed actors. I read scripts, make submissions, pitch clients for projects, call executives, negotiate deals, and try to stay “in the know.” At any given moment, you may see one of my clients on your favorite television shows or in a great movie. As Jerry Maguire said, “I’m the guy you don’t usually see. I’m the guy behind the scenes.”

However, I do my best to leave Hollywood at my doorstep at night before I walk into the house. I do it for a number of reasons, but most importantly – I want to keep it away from my kids as long as I can. I’ve done such a good job of this that I’m not really sure if they know what I do. All Justin knows is that I go to an office, talk to people on the phone all day and then sometimes I yell at them.

While I love what I do and I’m proud of all that I’ve accomplished, this is not what I want for Justin and Garrett. I want them to refer to the seasons as Summer, Spring, Winter, and Fall and not, Pilot Season, Development Season, Episodic Season, etc. I don’t want them to know what a Kardashian is or think that there is any legitimate value in “fame.” Several years ago, I heard Mister Rogers speak at an awards gala full of entertainment industry executives. The first words out of his mouth were, “Boys and Girls……Fame is a 4-letter word.”

But as of yesterday morning, I came to the realization that Justin knew way more than I thought he did. On the way to school, Justin said the following: (I took notes while driving.)

“Daddy. I want to see “Men in Black 3” because it looks funny with the eyes in the soup in the commercial and it opened this weekend, but I don’t want to see the “Pirates: Band of Misfits” movie. It looks dumb. Can we take Alex and Alina to see “Brave”? It’s from Pixar and it opens June 22nd. They made “Cars” and “Cars 2” and “Toy Story 3.” It should be really good. And, Burger King is going to have “Brave” toys in their kids’ meal. And, I want to see “The Avengers” because I like Iron Man and I think the Hulk is funny, but I don’t like the girl. I think all my friends will like it too. And, I want to see “Madagascar 3” on June 8th, but I don’t want to see it in 3-D and it’s from Dreamworks, but I don’t want to see the little boy fall off the moon in the beginning. And, daddy? Does “Pro-me-the-us” have aliens in it? It looks scary. And, when does “Despicable Me 2” come out? Will it have the girl from “iCarly?” “John Carter” looks stupid. I don’t ever want to see that. “Battleship” looks loud. And, it looks like “Transformers.” Is it the same thing? Can we go and see “The Fresh Beat Band” live in concert? They are going to be in Chicago, Philadelphia, Atlanta, Boston, and Los Angeles. Can I have your phone? I want to see “Pocoyo” on Netflix.”

Let me be crystal clear – I’ve been in a lot of meetings over the years with many, many influential and well respected agents, managers, producers, and studio executives. And, hands down, Justin (a five year old) said more intelligent, insightful, and accurate things about the entertainment industry in that one rant than I’ve ever heard from some of the highest paid executives I’ve dealt with. I’ve never been so horrified and proud at the same time.

4 Out of 5 Dentists Agree…

No children were harmed in the making of this blog post…

…….Ok, that’s a lie. Only one child was harmed, but he is feeling much better now!

As a family, we practice good oral hygiene. I am the son of a dentist, which makes Justin the grandson of a dentist. Justin playfully refers to his grandfather as “Papa.” However, when he is in “Papa’s” dental office getting his teeth checked, he is all business and formally refers to my dad as “Doctor Papa.” Clean teeth are a priority!

As per his usual routine, several nights ago Justin went into our bathroom to brush his teeth. While he was in there, GWE and I sat at the kitchen table and for a few quiet moments we got a chance to catch up with one another. All of a sudden we heard Justin grunting from the bathroom. The grunts quickly got higher and louder as Justin ran into the kitchen yelling, “HOT, HOT, HOT!!” He looked panicked and there was a white, toothpaste-like foam coming out of his mouth as if he was a rabid dog. GWE and I looked at each other and thought the same thing, “It’s toothpaste. How hot could it be?”

Justin became more panicked and screamed more, “HOTHOTHOTHOTHOTHOT!!!!!” GWE quickly took him over to the kitchen sink and washed out his mouth with cold water. When all of the toothpaste had been washed away, he continued to writhe in pain. “IT BURNS!!!!!” he complained. GWE turned to Justin and asked, “Did you use toothpaste?” He nodded yes. She responded, “Show me.”

Together, they went back to the bathroom. Not 15 seconds had passed when I heard, “JASON – GET IN HERE NOW!!” I ran to the bathroom. GWE turned to Justin and instructed him to show me which toothpaste he used. (Keep in mind, there are usually 2 or 3 toothpaste tubes behind the faucet.) Justin reached over and slid open a drawer on my side of the bathroom. He pulled out a box, opened it, and showed me the tube of “paste” he had used to brush his teeth. He had accidentally used “Icy Hot.”

Side note: For those of you who don’t know what Icy Hot is – it’s a pain relieving topical cream meant to ease muscle aches, back pain, and arthritis. It is not meant to clean your teeth.

GWE continued to rinse Justin’s mouth with cold water as I re-opened the package to see if there were any warnings regarding accidentally ingesting the product. Halfway down the back of the box it states: “WARNING: Keep out of reach of children. In case of accidental ingestion, get medical help or contact a Poison Control Center right away.”

OH………..SHIT…………

Without causing any alarm to my wife or child, I briskly walked back into the kitchen and looked for the emergency contact numbers. I found the number for poison control. (It’s 1-800-222-1222, if you should ever need it.) A pleasant, English-speaking woman answered the phone. I informed her that my son had brushed his teeth with Icy Hot and I wanted to know what I needed to do.

She calmly asked me Justin’s age and weight. She then asked if he actually swallowed any of the paste. At this point, Justin and GWE were standing by me in the kitchen. I leaned down and asked, “Justin, did you swallow any of that toothpaste?” He answered “no.” I relayed that to the operator. She responded with the following: based on his age and weight, he would have had to ingest several tablespoons of Icy Hot for there to be a problem. But, just to be safe, she suggested making him drink a glass of milk. We gave him the milk and forced him to drink every last drop.

It took a few moments for the tension of this incident to pass, but once it did – Justin was fine (although GWE is still psychologically scarred from this event.) While tucking Justin into bed later that night, I once again asked him if he was okay. He replied, “Yes daddy. But, I don’t like that toothpaste. It tasted minty-hot.”

My Secret Identity

Like most boys, I wanted to grow up to become a superhero. I wished for the ability to fly like Superman, pop Adamantium claws out of my knuckles like Wolverine, or have the power to smash things when I became enraged like the Hulk. I had no interest in running as fast as The Flash because it seemed like too much effort and as much as I liked Batman – he was not a superhero. (Being rich, having gadgets, and dealing with mommy/daddy issues does not make you a superhero. If Superman can easily kill you with a fart, you are not “Super.”)

However, when I was growing up, my favorite superhero was Green Lantern. Hal Jordan was just a normal guy who flew jets and had no personal demons. But, when he put on his ring, he became a superhero who defended the Universe. With that ring, he had power, strength, the ability to fly, move objects, read minds, and create different states of matter. Because of that ring, Green Lantern could do virtually anything.

While thinking about the Green Lantern this morning, it dawned on me that I too have a ring that grants me special powers. It may not be green and the powers may not be as exciting, but my gold wedding band grants me the power to make major medical decisions, file a joint tax return, and it gives me visitation rights to my wife or children in either a hospital or jail. Because of this ring, I will most likely live longer, be less likely to commit suicide, and (according to many women’s magazines) I’ll have better sex more often.

I also realized that this ring gave me the opportunity to create life (without a social stigma). And, upon further investigation, it bestowed upon me one very specific super power in order to keep those two life forms safe and in line. It’s called, “The Dad Voice.”

I discovered it three years ago – the night after our house was broken into. One of the local alarm companies took advantage of the break-in (without knowing which house it was) and decided that it would be a good idea to have their salesmen go door-to-door making sales calls at 9:30pm…thereby scaring the crap out of people.

The first time they knocked on our door, I told them to go away. Ten minutes later they returned and knocked again. And, once again, I told them to go away. Twenty minutes later, they returned again – and this time my instinct to protect my family kicked in. I turned toward GWE and told her to take Justin into the other room. Once they were safely away, I placed myself four feet away from the front door and opened my mouth. A deep, booming, window and shutter rattling, ear-cracking, attention getting sound erupted from the pit of my stomach.

“GO AWAY!!!”

I saw two salesmen through the shade covering the small window in our front door. They became startled, turned around quickly, and hurried off into the darkness. When GWE came out of the bedroom, she told me that she wasn’t sure where that sound had come from, but it had clearly gotten Justin’s attention as well.

There are only two times I have had to use “The Dad Voice” with Justin. The first was when he was about to stick his finger into an electrical socket. The second time I used “The Dad Voice” it was paired up with the less successful, “Daddy’s Crazy Eyes.” The sound was effective; the visual was not. It was mocked for the days and weeks that followed.

In summary, I’d like to take a moment to thank my wife and boys for turning me into the superhero I always wanted to become. Unlike those other heroes, you won’t have to worry about keeping my “real” identity a secret. I will continue to fight for you, protect you, and embarrass you only when absolutely necessary.

“Don’t worry. Nothing is Under Control.”

These are the last words I heard from Justin as he walked down the hallway holding my “Doctor Who” Sonic Screwdriver in one hand and his plastic “Handy Manny” hammer in the other. Curiosity got the better of me and I followed him into the den to see what he was up to. I stopped just before rounding the corner and observed Justin from the darkness of the hallway.

There, on the coffee table, Justin had laid out his electronic piano and a few tools. He also had a cup of water, a battery (which he had not gotten from me), and Garrett’s box of Wet Wipes. I watched him flip over the keyboard and locate the holes where the screws went in. Justin then attached the correct Phillips-head tip to the screwdriver and began to unscrew the bolts that connected the top of the piano to the bottom. I thought about intervening at this point, but he was actually making progress and I wanted to see where he was going with this.

He struggled a little with the screws and eventually gave up. But, that did not deter him from going through with his plans. Justin then used the Wet Wipe to “clean” the area. And finally, he grabbed a tool from the floor which I had not previously noticed. It was the kitchen can-opener! He dunked it in the cup of water (possibly to sterilize it??) and then attempted to open his piano like a can of beans.

“Whoa…whoa…whoa,” I said. “What are you doing??”

“I’m fixing my piano,” he replied.

“What’s wrong with your piano?” I asked.

“The battery died and I’m putting in a new one,” he said proudly.

“Would you like some help?” I asked.

“NO!” he responded.

I shrugged my shoulders and walked into the kitchen for a drink. I was immediately summoned back to the sofa. Justin sat me down next to him and said, “I am going to fix the piano. Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” I had no idea what he was planning, but I followed his instructions. He then put his hands on top of my hands and said, “Ok, now I am opening the back of the piano…” As he said this, he moved my hands around the back of the piano like it was a Ouija board. “Now, I am changing the batteries….” he said, as he continued to push my hands around. It slowly dawned on me that he wanted ME to change the batteries for him.

With my eyes shut and Justin’s hands on my hands, I lifted the lid, pulled out the AA batteries (actually just moved them around a little because I knew they were fine), and then closed the lid. Finally, Justin told me to open my eyes. He yelled, “TA DA!!!!! I fixed it all by MYSELF, daddy! Are you proud of me????”

I laughed and responded, “Yes, buddy. I’m very proud of you.” I then simply asked, “You really did that all by yourself?” He looked right into my eyes, held his hands up to my face like they were his master tools, and stated, “ALL….BY…..MY….SELF.”