In 2010, I was the star of a sitcom. It came and went pretty fast. But in the months from when I was cast in the sitcom through when it was done airing, my life did change remarkably.
I'm not exactly Don Draper when it comes to physical attractiveness.
Any notable moments spent on a subway usually do nothing more than expose human awfulness at its most pronounced.
I will never forget what happened on August 14, 2003. I know the exact sequence of where I was for every moment of that evening. It was a tragic day, and it's burned into my memory. Many people might remember that date, vaguely, as the date of the infamous eastern seaboard blackout that plunged all of New York City into darkness.
West Orange, where I grew up, is the hometown of Ian Ziering from 'Beverly Hills, 90210,' Scott Wolf from 'Party of Five,' David Cassidy from the 'Partridge Family,' and Mike Pitt of 'Boardwalk Empire' and 'Dawson's Creek.'
There are certain fundamental things that scream, 'I just moved to New York.' Things like eating cheesecake at Junior's or heading out to Coney Island to ride the Cyclone.
Northern New Jersey looks like a cluster of idyllic suburbs, but each of those seemingly normal towns has a dark side that's constantly gossiped about but never publicly acknowledged. They seem to thrive on their strangenesses.
I've seen situations where I think comics are really unrealistic about what creative expression and what the artistic freedom, what that entails.
In late 2004, I left my much-maligned home state of New Jersey for the supposedly greener pastures of Astoria, Queens. I'd finally be in the mix, living off the subway line, able to go from audition to audition during the day and from late night show to late night show in the wee hours of the morning.
As a stand-up, as a storyteller, as an improviser, I've done thousands of shows. They allow me to work out new material that might turn into something later. They let me keep my muscles sharp for when the rent-paying gigs do come along. They keep me sane.
I had bedbugs in 2005. I felt like a leper. Worse than a leper. At least lepers had a colony they could go and live in with other people who empathized. I instead had friends stand up from tables and walk out of restaurants when I told them I had bedbugs, because they were afraid I'd transfer the bugs to them.
Sometimes we get bored and want to shake up our format. It's a luxury we have on public access - no one cares about us. It literally doesn't matter if we fail, so sometimes we try to go really big and out of the box.
New Yorkers will be rude, but at least they do so out of the rationale that everyone around them is always slowing them down. Los Angeles, I learned, is a city full of people who have the personality of the coolest pretty boy from your eighth-grade class.
I didn't like who I was. I spent a lot of my life regretting who I was, which is a sad thing to say.
The whole romanticized 'sad clown' thing, we gotta get rid of that. That has to go! That's just getting sick people to voluntarily stay sicker and sadder than they have to be.
Shows are my saving grace. In between actual jobs, the only thing that keeps me sane is the knowledge that I can go up on stages.
My medications make me easier to deal with. They don't interfere with my creativity or turn me into a zombie or dull my real personality. They help me connect with people, allow me to stay calm when situations seem overwhelming, and help keep my thoughts from racing out of control. They help me leave the house when I'm scared to. They help.
Cops in New York City don't have the best reputation. It's a fast-paced city, and they deal with a lot, and many people have seen lots of cops interact with the public utilizing what can be gently called 'not the best customer service.'
