We've been discussing here why writers write and my pal Dan Castellaneta suggested I link to this video. It's 33 minutes of Rod Serling sitting around — year and location unknown — talking about writing with a group of students. I'm sometimes leery of getting too philosophical about the act of writing because such discussions often become just another excuse for not writing but I don't think this is that.

I have sometimes interacted with writers who were almost paralyzed by the belief that every single sentence that came out of their typewriters — even if those typewriters were computers or work in longhand — had to somehow transform the world. There's a little of that in this video but there are also enough pragmatic, useful points to make it worth any writer's time.

An older writer I knew used to dismiss Serling as being regarded as an important writer just because he got to host his show, not because of his scripts. But even if he got it for the wrong reason, Serling deserved his reputation. He was a smart man who wrote some very good things that have aced the ol' Test of Time. What he had to say is well worth hearing and maybe more than once…

• I've decided that every time anything happens in the world that bothers me, especially if it's injurious to my political beliefs, I'm going to simply insist it was a False Flag operation and it didn't really happen.

A couple of items before I hunker down to finish a script…

My longtime (of at least 54 years) friend Bruce Reznick was the first of several to write and tell me that the alleged Dorothy Parker quote — "I hate writing, I love having written" — was first fabricated by novelist Frank Norris prior to 1915. Well, okay. I don't know that it matters much who said it just as long as that person was a working writer. It means something else if it's spoken by someone not pursuing a career in that profession.

I really liked the TV series called The Kids in the Hall when it was first produced from 1988 to 1995. I liked reruns of it that could sometimes be found after that. And I really like the new series that the same guys have just done for Amazon. I'm impressed that after that long hiatus, they're still at the top of their game.

It's really sad how so many people have accepted a couple of mass shootings per day as just one of those things that happens in the world and we have to live with it.

My article about corned beef here brought some odd comments from folks who don't seem to understand that I avoid spicy foods and things like horseradish not because I do not have their refined palates but because some foods make me seriously ill. I've been meaning to restart a series of articles here about living with food allergies. One of the amazing things to me has always been that some people don't get that just because they can eat a certain thing doesn't mean anyone can.

If you have a P.C. and you're always searching for files you can't locate on your hard disk, give Everything a try. It's, as they say on their site, "…a search engine that locates files and folders by filename instantly for Windows. Unlike Windows Search, Everything initially displays every file and folder on your computer…hence the name, 'Everything.'" It's saved me a lot of time.

And I'm going to put that time to good use and finish that script. Be back later.

From this year's Olivier Awards in London…a tribute to Stephen Sondheim. A bevy of understudies sing his "Our Time" from Merrily We Roll Along…

Gordon Robson sent me this question about the fine comic book artist John Buscema…

Hi, I found your post about Dorothy Parker saying she hated writing, but probably not meaning it quite thought-provoking. Do you think when John Buscema said he hated drawing superheroes that he likewise didn't mean it, or was he serious? He sure drew these strips fantastically well for someone who'd have preferred not to do them. Just wondered what you thought on the matter.

I didn't know John all that well but I think I knew him well enough to answer this question. John was a guy who loved making his living by drawing all day. During his long, glorious career, he drew thousands of pages of all different kinds of stories — not only super-heroes but romance, war, western, historic, etc. Obviously, he liked some of those assignments more than others and I think what he said was his way of saying that the super-heroes were generally not his favorite jobs.

He also didn't like drawing romance comics. He did a beautiful job on them but to him, the stories were devoid of action (unless you consider kissing "action") and interesting settings, and because he found most of the stories stupid.

He was the kind of guy who grew up only wanting to draw and if left to his own muses and desires, he would have depicted more swashbuckling, adventure settings and more realistic characters than most Marvel Super-Heroes…but that was the job that was offered. After some unpleasant experiences working in advertising, he was glad to have it.

He also would have preferred to do finished art on his own, rather than just pencil or do "breakdowns" for inkers he did not think did a great job finishing his work. He only liked one or two of them. (A lover of the art penciled by John and inked by one of those he disliked once accused me of lying when I told him John did not like the end product.)  Buscema especially wished he could slow down and do finished art, taking more time, on Conan the Barbarian.  That was what he usually said was his favorite work for Marvel.

But it served Marvel's purpose to deploy John the way they did and it was probably more financially beneficial to him and his family to pencil-only so many comics that were not his favorites to draw.  He was sure good at all of them.

So I would say that "hate" is too strong a word. Aren't there parts of your job you enjoy more than other parts even though you do them all?

Sticking with a recent topic here: I received a half-dozen e-mails quoting a line that is usually attributed to Dorothy Parker, though one of my correspondents thought it was said by George S. Kaufman. Just about every witty thing ever said by any writer in New York for about forty years was at one time or another attributed to George S. Kaufman but I doubt he said this unless he was quoting Dorothy Parker.

The line is "I hate writing, I love having written." And a quick search of this site for "written parker" would have shown the folks who wrote in that I've discussed it many times on this blog, though not lately. At one point, I said, "To me, that's like saying, 'I hate hitting myself over the head with a ball-peen hammer but I love how it feels when I stop.'" Why become a writer if you hate writing? I hate cole slaw. Why would I become a professional cole slaw taster?

And I wonder if Ms. Parker really hated writing. Those of us who try to write witty, amusing things often say or write lines that we don't believe. We just believe they're witty or amusing. I don't think Henny Youngman really wanted you to take his wife…please. Don Rickles probably never had any true intention of dropping his pants and firing a rocket. Dorothy Parker might have loved writing but thought it was colorful or funny to say she didn't.

I love writing. If no one would pay me to do it, I'd probably get a job I hated to pay the bills and then when I wasn't doing that job, I'd be at this computer writing, if only for myself.

And in saying this here, I think I just answered my own question of earlier this morning as to why I was at this keyboard at 4:08 AM.

Everyone's favorite rock group that's made out of felt — Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem — perform Paul Simon's song, "Kodachrome." This video has been online for 6 years, 4 months and 19 days, and it's been viewed 3.4 million times. I have no idea why I didn't link to it before. Hell, I have no idea why I'm up writing at this hour…

That's right: This is a post about corned beef. If you don't feel like reading a post about corned beef today, skip it or go find another blog. This is a post about corned beef.

I prefer corned beef to pastrami. I don't dislike pastrami. I just prefer corned beef. This shocks some of my Jewish friends and they don't buy the excuse that I'm really only half-Jewish. To them, pastrami is the nectar (well, the luncheon meat) of the gods whereas corned beef is just a stage that some cuts of meat will grow out of when they evolve and better themselves to become pastrami.

I have two reasons for preferring corned beef, one being the taste. Years ago, I used to often lunch with an old high school buddy named George and we made a kind of unofficial survey of local delicatessens. One of us would order corned beef on rye and the other would order pastrami on rye and we'd swap halves so we could each have both. We did this at Nate 'n' Al's, at Canter's, at Junior's, at Factor's and a few others. In each case, we both preferred the corned beef over the pastrami.

We even felt that way dining at the Stage Delicatessen during the few months when that New York institution tried and failed to open in Beverly Hills. (The Stage has since failed to remain in business in New York, as has the Carnegie, another place where I preferred the corned beef over the pastrami.)

In some cases, it was a small preference but since they were always the same price, why go with your second choice? And by the way: If you've never heard of Factor's, that's where Mel Brooks often eats so that alone establishes its credibility as a serious delicatessen.

We even did our Taste Test in downtown L.A. at Langer's, which treats it as settled law that they have the best pastrami, if not in the country then certainly this side of Katz's on East Houston Street in New York. Langer's pastrami was good, no question about that, but George and I both thought their corned beef was better.

Shortly after that, I lunched at Langer's with my agent and I placed my usual deli order of a corned beef on rye with no cole slaw anywhere on the premises. The server looked at me like I'd ordered Lasagna Bolognese at a Vegan Chinese restaurant and my agent began thinking of dropping me as a client.

And I have another reason for favoring corned beef over pastrami. In many delis — especially the ones that really pride themselves on their pastrami — a pastrami sandwich comes with a side of attitude about mustard. You sometimes get a smidge of disapproval if you ask for non-hot yellow mustard to put on corned beef but you often get treated like a dangerous heathen for wanting it on pastrami. Every time I see a video about Katz's in New York, I'm afraid to ask for French's or Heinz there…and with good, I think, reason.

As a person with many food allergies, I am adamant about eating what I want and not what someone else tells me to eat. I avoid restaurants that won't let you — to use the old Burger King jingle — "have it your way." Some restaurants don't want you putting ketchup on one of their burgers. I've been to those places. Or the chef insists on putting peppers on any meatball sandwich he makes. I wrote about such a place once.

I don't want to argue about this with someone who doesn't understand that this is more than a personal preference…it's a necessity. Spicy foods do not like my digestive system and the feeling is mutual. I'm especially scared of the kind of hot mustard that contains horseradish.

In L.A., I really like the corned beef in the delis I mentioned above — the ones that are still in business, at least. I also like it at Magee's in the Farmers Market, though I prefer their roast turkey. And I even have perfectly fine corned beef at home…

They carry these at the Costco stores around me — Bill Bailey's Microwaveable Corned Beef.  It comes fully-cooked and you just heat it up…though I find it's way better if you don't heat it anywhere near as much as the directions tell you. (Remember: You're heating it up, not cooking it. When I followed the instructions, it went way past heating-up and became overcooked.)

I've written about these before, telling how they used to turn up at Costco in February and began disappearing after St. Patrick's Day. I'm hoping they're now there year-round. At least I hope they are because I go through about one a month, making little sandwiches with MY MUSTARD OF CHOICE now and then for a week or two. I make them small, as opposed to the kind you get served in some delis. The Stage, when it was in town, served you one that required you to dislocate your jaw in reptilian fashion to take a bite. And of course, they charge accordingly.

Costco also sometimes has fully-cooked pastrami if that's your preference. And once again, no one will try and shame you for applying what they consider the "wrong" mustard. You can even make your sandwich on white bread if you like…and sometimes, the non-Jewish side of me does.

A half-dozen different friends of mine saw The Music Man on Broadway in the last week or three and all raved about it. The most common compliment was that it was worth what they paid to get in.

I'm not sure how much that was but I just checked and at this moment, it's possible to buy two seats near the center of the fifth row for tomorrow night's performance for $614.00 apiece. Of course, that price includes a $2.00 per ticket facility fee. There is one (1) seat available in the last row of the mezzanine for $212.25. And of course, that price also includes the $2.00 per ticket facility fee.

Here's a one-minute-and-fifteen-seconds "sizzle" reel from the show. It looks good but I'm not sure it looks $614 good…

My little essay on working hard as a writer brought me this query from L. Jonas…

I read what you wrote about how writing can be hard work. Do you have any tips for how to cope with how hard that work can be? I'm especially thinking of the alone part of it, of feeling alone and lonely for so many hours. I can't write with someone else in the room but I also can't stand being alone for long stretches of time. Any suggestions?

Yeah: Learn and appreciate the difference between being alone and being lonely. Those don't have to be the same thing. When I spend all day and/or all night writing something with no one else around, I don't feel disconnected from the rest of the world. I'm just not around anyone else. And I often take a break to talk to friends or to go somewhere to be around other people. I doubt I'll do this much in the future but for a while, I'd go to Las Vegas for a few days, hole up in my room and just pound away on the laptop.

The great thing about doing this was, first and foremost, I could set my own hours — write all night, sleep all day if I liked. Eat when I felt like it and what I wanted to eat. Secondly, if someone phoned and I wasn't in the mood for a long chat, all I had to say was "I'm out of town" and they didn't expect one.

If I wanted something to eat and/or to be around people, I just had to get into the elevator and go downstairs. There was always someplace open to get a meal, always someone performing to watch for a while. I find it very easy in that city to strike up a conversation with strangers. And then, when I feel I'm nudging myself to get back to work, I just head back up to my room with the perpetual "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door and I'm as alone as I want to be. It's like turning the outside world on when you want it, turning it off when you don't.

Maybe I'm okay with the "alone" part of my vocation because I was an only child. No brothers, no sisters. I always had my own room filled with plenty of things (like comic books) with which I could entertain myself. I was also a kid who skipped grades in school and that can make you very, very alone at Recess or Lunch. But I came to like it in a way, and I think it had a lot to do with me becoming a writer. I read a lot and spent a lot of time making up my own little stories just for me.

I keep getting back to that movie line I quoted in the earlier piece: "This is the life we have chosen for ourselves." No one is forced to become a writer. There's nothing keeping me in the profession other than (a) I enjoy it and (b) I have no real aptitude for anything else.

I have written with partners and I've also written in "writers' rooms" amidst a whole gang of writers. Both have their benefits, especially when you're collaborating with someone you can learn from. I still felt the need to also write something on my own…at my own pace…and to my own satisfaction. And I never feel lonely. I just feel like the rest of the world is in the next room until I finish my script or come to a natural stopping point for now.

In the last few years, the talented Anna Brisbin (aka "Brizzy") has taken the voiceover business by storm. Part of that is because she's studied the field and knows it well…so well that she's just launched a three-part series that explores the history of voiceovers, going way way back to Thomas Edison and those before him who found ways to record sound. Here's the first chapter and I'll be bringing you the other installments as she releases them…

If you're a writer or want to be one, make sure you read this post by Ken Levine. It's about writers who think everything they do is perfect right out of the typewriter or inkjet printer. They don't rewrite…they don't look at what they've done and consider that just maybe it could be made better.

But I will, of course, quibble with one point. Ken writes…

Kurt Vonnegut…once said something to this effect: When you get a group of writers together usually they'll all squawk about how hard it is to write. And there will be one writer who says it's easy, he loves it, piece of cake. Vonnegut says invariably that will be the worst writer in the group.

I agree kinda with that view but I'm also unimpressed by people who want to be writers, sacrifice everything to become writers, manage to become writers…and then bitch 'n' moan constantly about having to spend long hours writing. There's a line in almost every movie about The Mafia or any organization not unlike The Mafia. At some point, someone says something like, "This is the life we have chosen for ourselves."

There are people in this world who willingly, even eagerly become plumbers and then complain about having to unclog toilets. There are people who dream of becoming lawyers then gripe about having to read all those damned law books. At a party once, I met a guy who said he was "male talent" in porn films and heard him explain what a pain it was to get up every morning and have to go in to be paid to have sex with beautiful women. As if he was only doing it because someone was holding his grandparents hostage or something.

I know why some of us complain about the long, struggling hours of writing. We want to remind others that sitting at the keyboard all day is working. We're not there playing Sudoku.

Okay, you're right:  Some of us are playing Sudoku but that's during our breaks from actually writing. We need to sometimes alert others that we're a bit weary and our minds are still back in our stories so we may not be the freshest, most attentive company.

Also, sometimes when your work is being handed to others to perform, direct or evaluate, you feel you should remind them that it took you, a professional writer, five weeks to write that. They ought to not be approaching it with the assumptions that they can come up with a better line in twenty seconds. Maybe you can on occasion but don't be so quick to dismiss those five weeks.

Complaining about having to work hard at writing doesn't mean you're a good writer or a bad writer. It might mean you're an annoying writer and I try to catch myself when I might be sounding like one. Please don't dismiss what I'm saying here. I was up all night writing this.

Debuting this weekend on your local PBS outlet is a Great Performances special — the recent British production of the recent Broadway revival of Anything Goes starring Sutton Foster. You might want to consult your local listings and set your TiVo or DVR to snag this one. Here's a preview…

Here is tonight's webcast by the folks at The San Diego Comic-Con Unofficial Blog with their special guest, me…