This article notes that Jimmy Fallon's ratings, which once had him firmly in First Place in Late Night have dropped and he's darn close to coming in third.  Popular wisdom would have it that it's because the other guys slam Trump almost on a nightly basis and Fallon doesn't, at least not with the fervor and sharpness of the others.

Obviously, I am all in favor of ridiculing the guy in the White House and can't see how anyone who writes comedy could resist all the opportunities he provides.  Back when NBC was airing those Dean Martin roasts, I contributed some gags and talked a bit with Harry Crane, who was the Head Writer, and a guy who probably wrote as many jokes as any man who has ever lived.  Harry would talk about "hooks," a hook being an aspect of someone about which you could write a joke.  If they were doing a roast of (let's say) Jackie Gleason, you could do jokes about him being fat, jokes about him drinking to excess, jokes about him chasing the dancers on his show, jokes about him having servants waiting on him night and day, etc.

Each of those was a hook.  Harry was complaining that the network kept asking that the roasts be about certain Big Stars who did not come with a lot of hooks.  How do you write an hour of insults about Gregory Peck?

We can all argue about how Donald Trump will be viewed by history…and of course, a lot of that will have to do with what he does or doesn't do in the next few years.  But I think he may already have clinched the mantle among comedy writers as the public figure with the most hooks…of all time.

I would like to suggest though that the decline of Fallon's ratings might not be exactly because he doesn't insult Trump enough.  It's close but I think the problem is that his show isn't topical enough.  Regardless of our political persuasions, we are all paying so much attention to the news these days that he seems disengaged.  You know that Colbert, Kimmel, Meyers, Trevor Noah and other guys on at those hours are living in the same country at the same time as you do.  When Fallon does mention what's in the news, it seems perfunctory and like someone told him he had to mention it.

This is in accord with a trend that's been evident for some time in late night: Viewers won't watch old shows.  Once upon a time, Mr. Carson could air year-old reruns and get a decent audience.  Today's late night shows don't dare go back that far.  The minute a reference "dates" the show, a lot of viewers change channels.  They've come to expect that a program like The Tonight Show will be about tonight, and when something in the news grabs their attention — and lately, there's always something — they expect the late night shows to say something of substance about it. Fallon's a nice enough guy but he doesn't seem as interested in what's happening right now as the other fellows.

I am back on the left coast in my old, familiar computer chair. There is much catching-up to do including the last few days of my New York diary. I will get caught-up on my catching-up as soon as I can. For now, I just want to say…

• This trip was the first time I've flown on JetBlue. It is not the last time I will fly on JetBlue. I am considering never flying to any city in the future if I cannot fly there on JetBlue.
• There is something enormously pleasant about being so busy that you can't pay too much attention to the news.
• People keep asking me what I think about the Harvey Weinstein matter. I've been trying to think of someone in show business about whom these revelations would be less surprising and I can't. There are plenty of others who do this kind of thing but no one more obvious than Weinstein. Some of them probably thought, "Well, if Harvey can get away with this shit, so can I." Hopefully, they're now rethinking that assumption.

More new content here later.

Here at this blog, we're big fans of Jim Jefferies' stand-up act and, increasingly, of his Daily Show-like program on Comedy Central. Here's a recent segment. I should probably flag it as "Not Safe For Workplace." Hell, we should probably just flag everything Jim Jefferies does as "Not Safe for Workplace"…

Kevin Drum notes that Republican Senator Bob Corker says Donald Trump is a liar and an out-of-control child. Corker further suggests all of his colleagues in the Senate know this even if some of them are afraid to say it out loud.

As I understand it, Trump's response to this is that "the failing New York Times" (which is, of course, doing quite well) tricked Corker into saying that and by the way, Corker is not tall enough. Which is just what a lying, out-of-control child would say.

Amber wasn't feeling up to it so I went stag to the final day of the New York Comic-Con. It was rough getting there from Times Square on Thursday and Friday when it wasn't raining and near-impossible on Sunday when it was. Cabs zoomed past me, snickering because they were already full of fares. One cabbie I did flag down said no, he wouldn't drive me there. He wanted a longer, more lucrative task.

I tried two ride services — Lyft and Via — but Lyft had some sort of super-surge on and wanted $80 for what is usually a $10 ride, and Via said they sent someone but he couldn't find me…and I think that was a lie. I suspect that driver found a more lucrative task.

So I took the subway there and between the standing and walking and burrowing through crowds, I started to feel Amber had the right idea.

I feel like writing about something that applies to perhaps 5% of cosplayers. 95% of 'em are great and I often marvel at the ingenuity, effort and even beauty of so much of what they fashion and don. But the Five seem to approach the game as "What can I wear that's big and clunky that will inconvenience and perhaps even injure those around me?" The con gave it a good try. They posted signs all over that said that cosplay posing was not to be done in aisles where people were trying to walk but those in the 5% look at such a thing and think, "Well, that can't possibly apply to me."

I got hit twice by prop swords wielded by folks playing barbarians. Neither hurt but they could have poked my eyes or knocked me off-balance. Both cosplayers felt a quickly-muttered "Sorry!" made it all right. Both, it seemed to me, struck their poses with zero consideration that others were around…and I really don't see how in that room, with shoulder-to-shoulder humanity, you could be so clueless as to not be aware that you did not have unlimited free space around you. But someone had a camera and all that mattered was posing for it, then and there in the most dramatic fashion.

Conventions all boast that they have a zero tolerance policy for what they call Sexual Harassment and what I think should sometimes be called Sexual Assault…and well they should. How about a zero tolerance policy for people who thoughtlessly hit bystanders with props? We need that until this problem solves itself, which I suspect it will. One of these days at some con, there's going to be a serious injury and/or some ugly confusion between faux weapons and real ones such that cons everywhere will have no choice but to bar wanna-be Conans (or even Groos) from shlepping their swords or gun-toting gunmen from toting the guns they tote. (Yes, this country will outlaw toy assault weapons before they banish anything Stephen Paddock had in his hotel room.)

End of that complaint. My others, not unrelated, are all about how crowded the convention was. I am not in a hurry to return to this one.

I spent the day signing books and I did one panel with Rand Hoppe and Tom Kraft, who run the online (for now) Jack Kirby Museum. The panel was, of course, about Jack and we had a pretty full room of people who wanted to hear all about him and ask questions. It's been 23 years, 8 months and 4 days since Jack died but his influence is so current and all-pervasive that it feels like he's still with us. And more than ever, people want to know about him.

By the time I got back to the hotel, I was exhausted and Amber was still not feeling great, plus it was raining and to venture out in Times Square just then was to encounter the same things I didn't like about the convention…including the people in costumes brandishing swords. So we stayed in.

But around 11:30 PM, I ventured out to get us some food and it was a lovely mission. The rain had stopped and the air was clean. Times Square was not empty but it was free of massive crowds and people in costume who want to pose with you for money and other people who want to hand you brochures for bus tours, comedy clubs and strip joints. There was just the right number of humans around to make the area feel alive and they all seemed to be couples happy about whatever they'd just done or were about to do.

I just stood there for a while, looking at the people and at all the lights, then I texted Amber and wrote, "It's beautiful out here. What do you want on your burger?" I'm so glad I went out for chow then because it was a real, comforting reminder of what a wonderful city New York is. You don't always see it but when you do, it's one of the greatest places on this planet.

Click here to jump to the last day of our trip

I was scheduled for 0 panels and 0 signings at the New York Comic-Con on Saturday. Recalling the hassles of the previous two days — getting to the convention, getting around the convention, getting something to eat at the convention, getting away from the convention — I decided to make 0 appearances there that day.

Instead, Amber and I saw sights, did some shopping and dined with my cousin David (author of this book and others worthy of your attention) and his lovely wife Dini. Then it was on to our show for Saturday night…

I adapted the following from something I found online…

Harold Prince directed the original productions of — among other shows — She Loves Me, It's a Bird…Superman, Cabaret, Zorba, Company, Follies, A Little Night Music, Pacific Overtures, On the Twentieth Century, Sweeney Todd, Evita, Merrily We Roll Along, The Phantom of the Opera, Kiss of the Spider Woman, Parade and LoveMusik. He directed acclaimed revivals of Candide and Show Boat and also produced the original productions of The Pajama Game, Damn Yankees, New Girl in Town, West Side Story, Fiorello!, Tenderloin, Flora the Red Menace, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum and Fiddler on the Roof. He is the recipient of 21 Tony Awards, a Kennedy Center Honor and a National Medal of the Arts from President Clinton.

Prince of Broadway, which is playing for not that many more weeks at the Samuel J. Friedman Theater, is a "greatest hits" musical using showstopper numbers from sixteen or so of the above musicals, interspersed with quotes from Prince about his career. What's good about it is that if you flip through the rundowns of those shows, it's pretty easy to pick sixteen great numbers, though it might be easier to pick sixty.

Also what's good about it is that those numbers are performed by nine wonderfully-gifted musical comedy performers and each of them has a number or two to hit it out of the park. Everyone was good but my two standouts were Bryonha Marie Parham belting the title song from Cabaret about as well as it could possibly be belted, and Karen Ziemba (always a favorite) playing Mrs. Lovett in the Sweeney Todd excerpt and making one wish she'd play it for an entire production.

And of note: We have reached the stage in color-blind casting where a black guy can play Tevye and you don't hear one eyebrow being raised. I'm fine with that. If there was any problem with "If I Were a Rich Man," it wasn't that the actor was black but that he wasn't Zero Mostel.

Which brings us to the first of a couple of problems with a show like this. Nine people do the work of a few dozen great performers and while they're all good, you can only stretch a cast of nine so far. Also, these were great numbers in the context of their shows. Some of them lose something as stand-alones. And there isn't much insight into Mr. Prince, his modus operandi, his place in theatrical history and so on. It's just a lot of great numbers, sparsely annotated.

The show closes with the best moments from Phantom of the Opera, saving us the chore of walking the three blocks to see the whole show, which is still running and probably always will be. Then there's a new number for the finale called "Do the Work," which is supposed to sum up Prince's philosophy. It's a nice philosophy but we kinda know he wouldn't be the most successful director ever — and deserving of a show like this — if he hadn't done the work.

It all made for a nice-enough evening and I'm sorry to see that there doesn't seem to be a cast album because I'd sure like to hear a few of those numbers again. Guess I'll have to make do with the original hits.

Click here to jump to the next day of our trip

First, I have one more Thursday event to report on. After that comedy I didn't laugh at, Amber and I went to meet my longtime friend Christine Pedi for a late meal. Some of you may know Christine as a host of the Broadway channel on Sirius XM Radio. Some of you may know her as a frequent performer in Broadway shows, Broadway-style shows and her wonderful cabaret act. I have featured videos of her performing before here like her superb impression of Liza Minnelli…

And she does countless other things to warrant my admiration, including her uncanny mimicry. If she ever took up Groucho, she'd put Frank Ferrante out of business.

So that's Thursday. Friday morn, Amber and I got to the Comic-Con in time to catch the panel for MAD Magazine hosted by its soon-to-retire editor John Ficcara. Also on the dais and in the audience were many MAD contributors, past and present, including also-soon-to-retire art director Sam Viviano, former editor Nick Meglin, MAD's maddest writer Dick DeBartolo and the Energizer Bunny of Cartooning, Al Jaffee. Later, I had a very nice conversation with Meglin and with longtime MAD artist Angelo Torres.

It was a very funny panel, though I would imagine you might not feel that way if you felt the current President of the United States deserved even a smidgen of respect. I will write a long post shortly about the Changing of the Guard at MAD and the many eras that are ending.

Signed books. Talked with people. Had a helluva time finding a cab when we left. But Amber and I eventually made it over to Greenwich Village to meet up with Paul Levitz for an important ritual. Amber, you see, has never been to New York before so we had to introduce her to New York Pizza.

As I'm sure I've written here, I think New York Pizza is waaay overrated. There are some wonderful pizzerias in that city. There would have to be, given how many pizzerias there are. Even if only 2% of New York pizzerias made great pies, that would still be something like thirty great pizzerias — admittedly, more than you'll find in any other city.

But New Yorkers talk about their pizza like every last one made in the 212 area code is the work of angels and it ain't. The average New York Pizza is not John's or Joe's or Grimaldi's or Lombardi's or Totonno's or Paulie Gee's. The average New York Pizza is Sbarro's or Pizza Hut or Villa or Ray's. When someone from this town brags about the pizza here, they don't have Ray's in mind. Their claim of vast New York superiority is based on comparing the best anywhere in New York to the average somewhere else.

I hesitate to tell you where we took her in New York because it's impossible in this world to say any place has good pizza without someone else telling you, "Their pizza is crap! I'll tell you where to get real good pizza!" And then they name some place — usually geographically difficult to get to and not worth the effort — that they swear has the best pizza in the galaxy and you're a boob to deny it.

I don't want all that mail so I'll reveal our dining place in a link but first, you have to promise not to tell me — in person, on the phone, by e-mail or via any other form of communication — of the place you know that's so much friggin' better. By clicking on the following link, you agree you have so promised. Is it a deal? Fine. Here's the link. The pizza there was quite wonderful.

And so was the play Amber and I attended afterwards. Insert graphic here, Mark…

Sweeney Todd, which I've seen several times including once with Angela Lansbury and George Hearn, is usually performed on a big stage with a big cast and big sets. This new production is performed in a pie shop by eight actors.

Well, actually it's the Barrow Street Theater in Greenwich Village but for this occasion, it's been transformed into a pie shop — a working pie shop where a renowned chef actually makes meat pies — presumably not with human fillings — and you can dine on one if you pay extra and come early. We did not do this. We went for another kind of pie.

So you sit in this little pie shop that is small enough that the actors need no amplification. Quarters are cramped and so no latecomers can be seated…or if you absolutely have to leave, you're not allowed back in 'til after the intermission. The play takes place all around you. Depending on where you're seated, Sweeney himself may scream in your face and brandish a gleaming razor. If you're balding, the gent selling Pirelli's Miracle Elixir may apply a dab of it to your head. The actors sometimes walk and dance on the tables so watch where you put your fingers.

A friend arranged for us to get what are probably the best seats in the place so for much of the show, Amber and I were 2-4 feet from the performers. Sweeney tried to strangle one of the actors on our table. Another performer sat with us as she feasted on Mrs. Lovett's infamous, human-flavored meat pies. Some refer to all this as an "immersive" production. You're right in the middle of it.

Effective? Involving? Very much so. Like I said, I've seen Sweeney Todd several times. I don't think I ever understood the show so totally before. I don't think I ever heard every word of it with so much clarity.

Yeah, the nearness of it all can be a bit distracting. I have large feet and a new right knee that can't stay in one position for very long. I always have to keep moving it and there were moments there where I had to relocate my foot hastily so as not to leave it where an actor might stumble on it. One of the actors also tended to project a bit of moisture from his mouth as he projected his louder notes. But Amber and I both loved the whole experience. She had never seen the show in any other form and now wants to see it in all. In the cab on the way back to our hotel, she called up scenes from the Johnny Depp film version on her iPhone.

And hey, let's talk about those eight actors, most of whom play multiple roles. If you're familiar with the show, you might wonder how eight people can fill all those parts and even convey the sense of a crowd where the plot calls for a crowd to gather. They do. Just as you use your imagination to place scenes not in Mrs. Lovett's pie shop in other settings, you fill in for the lack of more bodies on the stage. A mob of four can feel like forty when you're totally immersed in this immersive production. A three-piece band (piano, violin and various woodwinds) can feel like a symphony orchestra.

Hugh Panaro plays Sweeney. Carolee Carmello, whom I've adored in several other shows, plays Mrs. Lovett. Both did fine jobs of making me forget others I've seen in those roles. There is no margin for error here. It's one thing to become a character seen from yards away. It's another to get every gesture, every facial expression perfect when viewed up close and personal. I never saw either of them as anything but the characters they were playing. And Ms. Carmello got every single laugh it was possible to get and only when appropriate…many of them laughs due to a subtle expression or eyebrow raise. Every performance there was perfectly scaled for the venue.

We often go to theater for the "take-home" part — the memories that will linger a long time after. I can still summon up certain moments from certain plays and musicals that have stayed with me for years, even decades later. I took home a lot from this presentation of Hugh Wheeler's book and Stephen Sondheim's songs. If you can get there, get there.

And see if you can get the seats we had, which were D-11 and D-12. You'll feel so much a part of the production, you'll think maybe you should have an Equity card to sit in them. And maybe you'll worry about the Demon Barber of Fleet Street coming by to give you a trim or a tracheotomy.

Click here to jump to the next day of our trip

Newborn guinea pigs…

He has a new plan to sabotage Obamacare. This is like if I predicted you'd wind up homeless, you didn't and then I burned your house down so I could say, "I told you so!"

He's mad that his Secretary of State called him a moron. Think how mad he'd be if he realized that 56.5% of the country calls him that, too. Or worse.

He did a crappy job dealing with all them hurricanes. Of course, in Trumpworld, he is always to be congratulated for whatever he does.

He's about to make things much worse between the U.S. and Iran. And for no apparent reason than that he has to undo whatever Obama did.

He may be about to appoint as the next chair of the Federal Reserve, a man who has a miserable track record for that kind of thing. But at least he seems blindly loyal to Donald…and when you get right down to it, isn't that more important than competence?

And finally for this fine Saturday: He has relatives who may escape criminal prosecution due to shady dealings and their family connection. And hey, what's the point of being president if you can't give your kids a couple of "Get Out of Jail Free" cards?

Thursday, the New York Comic-Con opened. I have not been to one of these in quite a while and they've swelled to the capacity of the Jacob Javits Convention Center, which is apparently around 25% greater than a responsible Fire Marshall would allow.

For years now, folks who somehow think I am the Complaint Department for Comic-Con International in San Diego have been showering me with a list of gripes that fall roughly into three categories…

1. "It's too crowded!"
2. "It's too expensive to go to it!"
3. "There's not enough there about the particular stuff that interests me!"

Taking these in reverse order: The usual answer to (3) is that either you're not looking hard enough or you're interested in things that simply don't attract enough of an audience.  (2) may be valid to some but there are a lot of things in this world that we can't afford and that ain't gonna change.  Which brings us to (1)…

Let me head off the e-mails saying, "You don't experience this problem because you're a Guest of Honor at Comic-Con."  Yeah, that has its benefits (as well as a few drawbacks) but it doesn't help one bit at things like physically getting in the door, making one's way down aisles or across the floors, etc.  If there was a line to get into the lavatory, I would have to wait in it just like any person without a little extra ribbon on their badge.

As it turns out, I've never once had to wait in line in San Diego to get into a room that says MEN on the door.  I can't recall that happening at any comic convention in the 47 years I've been going to comic and science-fiction conventions…except this current con here in New York.  The lines to buy food are even worse — and again, a Guest of Honor badge would not help anyone with that.

I have other such complaints but they're not so much about the convention but about the Javits Center.  Presumably, they have a certain stated capacity that is endorsed by the aforementioned Fire Marshall.  Presumably, the operators of this con sell memberships and exhibitor space up to that capacity.  To get into the con, one must "tap in" with one's RFID badge…so unless Russians are hacking the computers that tally such things, there's no mistaking how many people are being allowed into the premises.

So as a veteran convention-goer, my sense is that that "stated capacity" is way too high for the physical limitations of the building.  Except in San Diego when I've made the foolish mistake of venturing near the videogame companies' booths, I can't recall ever having so much trouble getting down aisles. Many of the videogame companies actively try to clog those aisles, holding contests and demonstrations designed to get people to crowd around, the better to suggest they have the hottest new game in the hall. There's some of that in the Javits Center this weekend but I think there are just too many people in that building.

That may not be the case at future New York Cons. The Javits Center is plastered with signs promising further expansion will increase the exhibitor space by up to five-fold. That would be great and I'm thinking I might not be back until some of that happens. As it is, it's Saturday, the con opened at 10 and I'm sitting here in our hotel room thinking, "I'm not scheduled for any panels or signings today. I have to be there tomorrow but maybe Amber and I will skip today."

Thursday evening, Amber and I dined at Sardi's with my friends Jim Brochu and Steve Schalchlin. I'll tell you about Jim and Steve when I write about Monday when we'll be seeing them again. Then the lovely Amber and I hiked over to the Lyceum Theater to see The Play That Goes Wrong, which is a British import that is, quite intentionally, a play that goes wrong.

What goes wrong with it? Everything. You would be hard-pressed to think of any disaster that can happen on a stage, apart maybe from me getting up to sing, that does not happen onstage at the Lyceum. The problems begin even before the play does. If you go, come early so you can watch the alleged stage crew (actually, actors playing the stage crew) screw things up before they begin a performance of The Murder at Haversham Manor, presented by the Cornley University Drama Society.

The Murder at Haversham Manor is the kind of thing Agatha Christie might have written if she was loopy on Nyquil and/or had been repeatedly hit on the head with a ball peen hammer. Due to every single person involved in the production being inept, something happens every fifteen seconds which would not have seemed out of place in a Three Stooges short. Lines are flubbed. Props malfunction. People trip. Portions of the set attack the actors. The screw-ups are relentless and just get worse and worse.

The actors are superb — and I'm referring to the actual skilled actors themselves, not the incompetent actors they portray. The physical comedy is such that every one of them deserves a Tony Award just for being able to do this thing eight times a week. I cannot imagine the practice and physical training necessary to play some of those roles. The real stage crew also must have the hardest jobs on all of Broadway, keeping up with the split-second timing, causing this to explode or that to collapse at the precise instant it has to explode or collapse.

All of this brings us to the question, "How hilarious is this?" Here is the most honest answer I can give you: About 85% of the audience howled from the moment the curtain did not go up until the moment the actors stumbled on their final bows. The remaining 15% sat there, impressed by the effort and skill but seriously not laughing.

The second act begins with the director/star of The Murder at Haversham Manor coming out in front of the curtain and thanking those who did not leave at intermission. It was a joke but in truth, a lot of the 15% did depart, including the folks sitting in front of and behind Amber and me. I had contemplated doing likewise because I was in that 15%.

I don't think I laughed once. Not once…and this is me, a lover of Buster Keaton and Laurel & Hardy and the Stooges and It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World and other enterprises that you'd think would make me an ideal appreciator of this kind of thing. I may just be able to explain why…

Throughout the show, my mind kept going back to two plays, both of which were about things going wrong on stage during a play. One, which was mentioned by most reviewers of The Play That Goes Wrong, was the 1982 Noises off by Michael Frayn. The other was a similar play which I thought was superior but not as widely-hailed. That was Footlight Frenzy by Ron House, Diz White, Alan Shearman and Bud Slocumb. The two plays were a great example of how different folks can have pretty much the same idea at the same time. If one had seriously preceded the other, someone would have charged plagiarism.

In both Noises off and Footlight Frenzy, we get to know the actors and why they're inept and what's going on between them of a personal nature. There are reasons why things go awry in the plays we then see them attempt to perform and there are repercussions in their lives for their performances being such messes. In The Play That Goes Wrong, what goes wrong just goes wrong because it goes wrong and all that happens is that they get humiliated and almost killed during the play and we don't even know who those actors are or why it matters.

So that's (I think) why I was so unmotivated to laughter. I stayed because I admired the expertise, the way you might not laugh at a superb acrobat but you're still entertained by the performance. I also stayed because as a writer, I wanted to see how they'd destroy the rest of the set. In that regard, they did not disappoint.

I am not not recommending this play for you. Odds are you'd be in the 85% who laugh and cheer throughout. I will suggest though that if you want to see it, you get to New York to do so…and it may still be running in London for all I know. It requires such skill from its performers and stage crew, and that set's gotta cost a fortune, that I doubt you'll see this done at your local community college. They certainly can't do a better job than the folks doing it — eight times a week, unbelievably — over on 45th Street near Times Square.

Click here to jump to the next day of our trip

Here's a clip from a "lost" Laurel and Hardy film that was —

No, you folks are too smart to believe that for a moment. It's actually a recently-made parody by comic Peter Serafinowicz, who I always find quite funny. I guess I should alert you that this is Not Safe For Workplace, which means in this case there is Naughty Language. Perhaps some of you can handle it…

• ‪Trump has made it so employers can refuse to pay for birth control. Next up: Employers will be able to refuse to pay for anything. ‬

Amber and I are seeing four shows while we're here, thanks to a friend who arranged for house seats. For those of you who don't know, "house seats" are tickets arranged by someone on the inside. They're not free. You pay face value for them. But they're usually very good seats that are available when all the other good seats have been purchased.

One of our shows is off-Broadway and I have an e-mail printout of our seat numbers for that. The other shows are Broadway shows and our tickets were set aside for me in the various box offices. I've learned the hard way that upon arrival in Manhattan, it's a good idea to immediately visit those box offices and pick up those tix, lest someone who works at the theater succumb to the temptation to give your good seats to someone else and stick you in less wonderful locations. That temptation could be due to friendship or bribery but either way, I wanna get those tickets out of those box offices and into my possession.

So first thing we did Wednesday was to visit those three theaters — all conveniently situated near one another — and claim my ducats. Second thing was to take the subway to meet my editor Charlie Kochman for lunch and to get hopelessly lost. I still don't know how we wound up where we wound up but it was such a remote part of New York City, I actually heard people speaking English.

After lunch, we scurried over to the offices of Sirius XM Radio. Remember what Auric Goldfinger had to do to break into Fort Knox? That's like an Open House compared to what it took to get Amber — since I forgot to tell them she was coming with me — into the Sirius building. But we did and she sat in as I guested on John Fugelsang's fine radio talk show, co-hosted by Frank Conniff. It was broadcast live and I don't think it's downloadable anywhere but maybe someone will inform me I'm wrong.

John and Frank don't really need guests there — they're that good — but it was fun to pitch in and talk about, among other topics, movies which didn't deserve their Oscars, Jack Kirby, How Comic-Con in San Diego has evolved, Gun Control and a few other topics. If you aren't a regular listener to this show, you oughta be. It's great to hear spontaneous, witty conversation between two bright men even when they have someone like me getting in the way.

Then we went back downtown to the offices of Harry N. Abrams Books, the folks who have published my books about Jack Kirby. They had a big author party and I very much enjoyed chatting with other Abrams authors. I was talking with one fellow for three or four minutes before I realized he was John Leguizamo, one of my favorite comedians. Shows you how observant I can be at times.

After the party, Amber and I went out with one of my favorite cartoonist-persons, Mike Peters. Mike, who does the Mother Goose & Grimm comic strip and so many great political cartoons, was with his wife Marian and his daughter Molly. It was Marian's birthday so the five of us subwayed to Benihana's to dine and celebrate and I'm not telling you this because I think you need to know this but this is kind of a diary for me and I just want to remember what happened on what days.

The meal at Benihana's was identical to the meal at any Benihana's. Our chef flipped the shrimp tails into his hat. He made the little volcano out of onion rings. He sculpted the fried rice into a large heart and made it "beat" by putting his spatula under it. I always wonder who invented all those little stunts and whether he or she ever got a dime in royalties. I'm guessing a dime but not much more.

And that was our Wednesday. I'll try to get back here on Saturday to tell you about Thursday.

Click here to jump to the next day of our trip

This is just to let you know I haven't forgotten you, dear blogfollowers. The bad news (for you) is that I've been so busy here, I haven't had time to write anything for this page. The good news is that when I do get the time, I've got plenty to write about. Maybe later tonight.

A big metal flying thing took us to the isle of Manhattan where they clear out an old See's Candy Box, install a bed and the world's slowest wi-fi, charge $300 a night and call it a room for two. By the way, JetBlue has real good, comfy metal flying things.

This is my first time in New York — a city I used to visit once or twice a year — since '08. Why the gap? Well, as I think I mentioned, there came a point in her life when my mother got real, real nervous when her only son and local relative was not in the same state…and then after she passed, Carolyn's cancer was causing her to fear when I was too far outta town. So apart from a few unavoidable short biz trips, I kept pretty much to my own state.

Also, I had fewer reasons to come here. I used to come and visit DC Comics (they're now in Burbank) and the offices of MAD Magazine. They'll be there soon. I used to visit the Marvel offices but for a time (now past-tense) I didn't feel welcome there. I used to go visit friends at David Letterman's show and to visit folks like Joe Simon, as well as other publishers who are no longer with us. And now there's no Carnegie Deli…

We walked around Times Square last night. So much was the same but so much has changed. Most of what's changed is the increase in brand names — a lot of independent pizzerias replaced by Pizza Hut and other chains. But it's still New York. I'm going to go out and be in it today — and around 4 PM New York time, I'm supposed to be on John Fugelsang's show on Sirius XM radio. I'll report back later.

Click here to jump to the next day of our trip