YOUR MOTHER

"Happy Birthday."

There, I've written it. You have too, countless times. You've said it, sung it and probably meant it each time. Good for you. Not me, though.


When I got to be old enough to think about it, forgoing the angel food and forgetting Baskin & Robbin, it hit me. What's the big deal about your birthday? No, really?

I'm sure that, in past centuries it was a big deal to live, to survive. I mean, the infant mortality rate declined about 95% in the past century. In the past, when you made it to another year, it was really cause for celebration. Today? Not so much. What matters is what you've done with the past year, man.

Last night, at a very hip Hollywood nightclub on Sunset called Boulevard III* a special friend of mine had a party marking a quarter century of life. Twenty-five years? Hell, I've got girlfriends older than that. Wait, no I don't. Anyway, for many people, 25 is just a number, but for my talented friend, a guy who has accomplished so much, including likeable roles on television, in film and especially in "live" performances on stage, he's had a helluva year.

Several years ago, I got myself mixed-up in the shooting of a TV pilot. It was produced by a guy I knew with Ralph Edwards Productions and, if it'd sold, would have been one of the very first reality shows. MTV had a hit with 'The Real World' and everyone was trying to get into the act. Ralph Edwards had hit shows in the 50's, 60's & 70's like 'This Is Your Life,' 'The People's Court,' and 'Name That Tune,' and this was to be a mix of reality and game show. So, for whatever weird reason, back in the 90's, I was cast to appear in something to be called, 'Your Neighbors,' playing, well, playing myself. I'd made the mistake of telling a story on camera about how, on my birthday, I'd send my mother a 'Thank You' card, because, after all, she'd done all the work. The producer of the show got me to tell that story on the show, making me come off as a momma's boy. Oh, by the way, the entire show stunk. Last I heard, it was shown to prisoners down at Guantanamo who begged to be transfered to Abu Ghraib. I guess a water board is better than being bored to death.

How bad an actor was I ? Let me say it this way: last week I received my first offer to appear in a friend's pilot television show. In other words, it took fifteen years for the stink to disappear.

I like Boulevard III. I do. I'd go there with my young & restless friends when it was a cool poolhall. Last night it was filled with a new generation celebrating R.J. CANTU's birthday, and that's great, but if I were him, I'd send his mom a note because, twenty-five years ago, he didn't have any lines; she did all the work.




* Andrew Boulevard III is the host to hook you up.