Boy, are my arms tired

Got to the tour a few hours ago and have already been to two sessions without crashing. The official tour blog ought to have my first entry up any second now (it's about a quintessential session that's funnier than the show it's plugging).

And in my haste to get out the door to the airport this morning, I forgot to link to my review of "Love Monkey." Fortunately, it's not airing until tomorrow. Out of respect for people who don't have the time or patience to jump from blog to blog to column, I'm going to start including the first paragraph or two of reviews to give you a flavor of what I had to say, so here goes:

Once upon a time, there was a man named Ed Stevens. He had a wife, a great Manhattan apartment and a promising corporate law job. Then he caught his wife cheating on him and moved back to his hometown of Stuckeyville, where he bought the bowling alley, set up a law practice inside and set about wooing his old high school crush, Carol Vessey.

That story was told on NBC's late, great "Ed." Tomorrow night, CBS introduces "Love Monkey," which is the story of what happened when Ed dumped Carol, moved back to New York and got a job in the music business.

Well, not exactly, but close enough.

One of the things I'm looking forward to doing while I'm out here is interviewing Nic Harcourt, deejay of LA's outstanding "Morning Becomes Eclectic" and the guy picking most of the music for "Love Monkey." And because I'm either very thorough or very lazy, the book I read on the flight? "Love Monkey." Funny enough that I hope the show borrows more from it in the future, though I always find it cheezy when the narrator of a book or movie compares his life to the character in another book or movie (in this case, to Rob in "High Fidelity") and suggests his is more realistic, even though it's almost exactly the same. ("Love Monkey" guy even starts making Top Five lists within a chapter or two.)

I'm beat, but I've now written two blog entries for two different sites in under 20 minutes. When I was in college, my best stuff often was written when I was either exhausted or drunk, but right now I'm too beat to tell if that axiom still holds true.