I had the great pleasure tonight of going to comic strip artist Stephan Pastis’ “reading” from his strip Pearls Before Swine at Vroman’s Books in Pasadena. Pastis is an affable and funny public reader of his own strip, accompanying himself with projected images of the panels he’s reading. My kids and I had a good time; so did the other 200 or so people jammed into a small upstairs room meant to accommodate perhaps 75.

During the Q&A, I couldn’t help noting the turnout — a standing-room-only crowd aged 8 through 80 — as well as his story of large crowds at all his bookstore signings. (For one in Texas, his event was moved from a bookstore to a church able to handle more people, where he delivered his remarks from the preacher’s post.) All across the nation, how did people learn of his strip and fall in love with it? Through newspapers. And how are those newspapers responding? By cutting down on the number of comic strips they carry, and shrinking their size. I have pretty good vision, but it’s gotten to the point where I have difficulty making out what the daily strips in the LA Times are saying. Moreover, the LA Times used to carry two sections of Sunday comics; now they carry three pages. When I pointed these things out, Pastis said, of course, “You’re preaching to the choir. We all tell them that. The comics are the most popular feature in the newspaper.” One would think that the publishers would want to run more of the most popular feature, not less. (But then again, one might think that newspaper publishers wouldn’t have gotten their classified-ad lunch eaten by a guy named Craig starting something called Craigslist.)

I also had a great time standing in a seemingly endless line talking books and reading with other people in that line. I discussed Hemingway, newspapers, and nearby over-priced bric-a-brac with the retired guy behind me, a teacher of economics for 35 years at a high school in a poorer area of Los Angeles who decried the complete lack of reading among children these days, despite the evidence all around him in the store, and espoused a love for the Wall Street Journal and a disdain for the slant he’s sure he’s reading on the front page of the Los Angeles Times every day. (“They should keep their editorials off the front-page reporting!”) At one point he mentioned his grandchildren in Texas; the guy behind him asked what time it is now in Texas, to which I said, “1956.”

I bought each of my kids a book, and picked up the new Pearls treasury and got Pastis to sign it for me — “That’ll be worth money one day!” my junior Uncle Scrooge offspring exclaimed — and then somehow made it out of the store without arming myself and my kids with another five or 10 books each.

South Coast Rep just mailed me a postcard for the world premiere of Five Mile Lake by Rachel Bonds. Here’s the description:

“Jamie enjoys a quiet life in his small Pennsylvania town, fixing up his grandfather’s old lake house and pining after Mary, his troubled coworker. But when his brother comes back to town with a new girlfriend, Jamie’s peaceful world is turned upside down. A tender story about those who stay and those who go away — by one of the country’s hottest young writers.”

It’s a long drive down to Costa Mesa, although I’ve done it often enough when it was a play or playwright that interested me. This doesn’t sound like one of those times. But here’s what I find annoying: when they bill someone as “one of the country’s hottest young writers” — I’ve seen this before — as though young is an advantage of some sort. It’ll be better somehow because the playwright is young. (Which makes me wonder just why Shakespeare and Beckett are done so frequently, because they’re not only old, they’re also dead.) Now I’d like to see someone do the new play by, say, Sam Shepard and bill it as “by one of the country’s coolest old writers.”

Here are 20 jokes that only intellectuals will understand.

Many of these hinge on the relative literalness of language. Every time when I’m asked to RSVP for a particular board meeting, the request is phrased this way: “Please let me know if you will or won’t be coming.” At first, I was replying, “Yes, I will or won’t be coming.” (That answer is literally true, and is occasioned by the formulation of the question. The better way to phrase the question is, “Please let me know whether or not you’re coming.”) Then after a few instances of that, I realized it wasn’t funny, that I was just being a jerk. Whether or not they understand these 20 jokes, I don’t think the distinction between being funny and being a jerk is something most intellectuals will get.

My business partner and I have started an additional business. It’s a sort of line extension onto what we already do. Because this new venture is a pretty simple formation, and we’re never going to market or sell anything under this name, we did it ourselves through an online company.

But here’s the thing. When we signed up for this LLC formation, the online service defaults you to an annual package that’s an additional $279. We don’t want this extra business/compliance package and don’t need it — we have attorneys and a CPA firm, and are quite used to running a business, thank you — but there was no way I could find not to buy it. So, in buying the services that we did need, we wound up opting in against our wishes for the “free trial” secured by my credit card.

They then emailed me to say that we have just 30 days to cancel, after which if we don’t, they will automatically bill us (ongoing) for that annual subscription.

So I calendared it to cancel it.

Tonight, I logged into the service to cancel the subscription that we don’t want and don’t need, and followed the instructions to cancel. When I hit the cancel button, I got a popup that says cancelation must be by phone.

So I called the number. The number tells me that I have to call during normal business hours.

Think this is on purpose? I do. How many more roadblocks can they set up?

And I’m sure when I call they will try everything to keep me from canceling.

This sort of thing should be ILLEGAL. It’s right up there with calling elderly people and duping them into “charitable” donations they don’t understand and can’t afford.

Here in southern California, we’re in the midst of an epic drought, among the worst on record. I took my family skiing last week; here was the immediate response from friends who heard we were going: “There’s snow?” The answer: yes, but only because some of the resorts make snow. The skiing was wonderful, especially if your preference is snow skiing in 55-degree weather. (Ever wonder, back in the day and as I did as a 14-year-old boy, how Playboy bunnies could stand being photographed skiing around in the snow naked? Now you know: They were skiing in southern California sometime between February and March.) Outside those manmade snow areas, here’s how our usually snow-crested mountains looked: long runnels of dirt and rock, dry as a bone, down to the skeleton of the mountain.

So, now, it’s going to rain. The weather forecast is 100% for rain tomorrow and Friday. As my dentist remarked yesterday, when is the last time you saw a weather forecast predict 100% there was going to be rain? Usually, they’ll leave themselves at least a small margin of error. Nope, now we’re predicting 100% chance of rain. And now here’s the additional forecast: moving out (temporarily) of the epic drought, now we need to fear epic car crashes, mudslides, and drownings, because it’s going to rain. As I was writing this, I got an emergency text alert (!) from the California Highway Patrol. Here’s what it says: “Rain Expected in LA County. Are You and Your Vehicle Ready for Wet Weather Driving?” As though I should go out and throw a poncho and some wellingtons onto my car. Or something.

These latest fear alerts are brought to you by the state that previously gave you mud slides, earthquakes, the Manson Family, the real killer whom O.J. Simpson still hasn’t been able to find, the mystery man who killed Robert Blake’s wife in the exact minutes while Blake was out retrieving something from his truck, plagues of crop-eating bugs, gang wars, riots, and so much more. We survived all of them. That we’re now getting whipped up to fear the rain that we so desperately need tells you much about the fear-industrial complex.

A few days ago, I advised seeing acts you care about (and even good ones you don’t), while you still can. And then today guitarist Bob Casale of Devo, pictured second from the right above, dropped dead from a heart attack.

I had the enormous pleasure of seeing Devo twice in recent years — in November of 2009 at the Henry Fonda in Hollywood, and August of 2011 at the intimate Canyon Club in the LA suburb of Agoura. On stage, Casale was a big, rambunctious, gleeful personality, sweating profusely in a Devo “radiation suit,” putting everything he had into a lively performance that belied his size and age. I have loved Devo since their first album, almost as much as he clearly loved being in Devo.

I don’t know if Devo will continue performing, without their founding guitarist (who was also the brother of one of the band’s guiding presences, bassist and songwriter Gerald Casale). But I’m glad to got to see them with him. I should also add that Devo’s first new album in 20 years, Something for Everybody, which came out in 2010, is pretty terrific. I’m glad Bob Casale got to make that.

This list, of Ten Japanese Travel Tips for Visiting America, reminds me of old Star Trek episodes where Kirk or Jean-Luc would get tips on correct cultural behavior on an alien planet.

But here is something I have found, in my trips around this country and others, to be true:

“In America, you can make mistakes, fail, and it doesn’t matter. It is a fundamental feeling that to sometimes be incorrect is natural. In addition, rather than thinking about mistakes and failures, Americans have curiosity and say, ‘Let’s try anyway!’ ”

There are worse things than being the curious people who say “Let’s try anyway.” That’s the spirit that put a man on the moon.

Sad to learn of Sid Caesar’s passing. Well, somewhat sad. Sad in that an era is passing — if it hasn’t already left us entirely; that would be the era of gifted comedians and actors who came up through stage comedy such as vaudeville. That generation had incredible chops. Not said in that Mr. Caesar was in very poor shape in recent years, and this is probably a blessing.

I’m glad that, about 15 years ago (maybe more, at this point), I got to see him with Imogene Coca doing a “Your Show of Shows” revival live on-stage here in L.A. My wife and I were the youngest attendees by centuries. (She said to me, “We’re seeing WHO?”) Actually, as I recall, Mr. Caesar was 68 at the time, so, given that he died at 91, that was… an incredible 23 years ago. Could it be? Here’s how I know that: During one sketch, he took off his shirt and my wife exclaimed loudly, “WOW — he’s built!” All of the bodybuilding paid off, at least then. (And partly offset the drinking, I guess.) He and Ms. Coca were fantastic — endlessly funny and entertaining — and, well, I’m glad I got to see it. That turned out to be Imogene Coca’s last live performance, and now we won’t be seeing Sid Caesar anymore either.

I’m glad to say I saw Rodney Dangerfield. And I’ve seen Bob Newhart. If you have a chance to see classic comedian while they’re still here, you should do it. They’re not going to be here much longer, and the new people are funny — but they aren’t classics.

Despairing over the loss of Flappy Bird? Don’t. Flappy Bert is better.

What’s the best way to get millions of more people working? Why, by dropping the minimum wage — to five bucks an hour.

I know, you wouldn’t have thought of that either. But this guy who wrote an op ed in today’s Wall Street Journal did.

Granted, that’s behind a paywall — a paywall operated by no one making $5/hour, I’m sure — so let me share a few of the key points:

A Minimum Wage That Will Work
There’s a way to create millions of jobs for people the stimulus didn’t help.

The president’s call for a $10.10 minimum wage applies the worn-out notion that higher wages create more jobs. Despite repeated minimum-wage increases over the years, we have seen a continued flight to the sidelines by people who are unable to find jobs because they don’t exist. Many jobs don’t exist because employers refuse to hire people at such wages. Isn’t it obvious that, with a higher wage, McDonald’s $1 menu, for example, would cost $3, few would buy it, and Mickey D would have less revenue and far fewer jobs?

As a volunteer interviewer of the poor at a religious charitable organization in southwest Florida, I have come to believe that the most effective step we can take to ameliorate poverty, kick-start job growth and invigorate hope in every social stratum is to experiment with a $5 minimum wage.

A $5 wage will put money and hope into the lives of our poor in immediate, powerful and enduring ways. For all its $4 trillion stimulus, mere nickels of quantitative-easing funding “trickled down” to where the poor reside. But a $5 minimum wage will “trickle up,” directly from employer to employed—creating millions of jobs rapidly and putting them within reach of huge numbers of the poor.

Three enormous labor pools of can benefit immediately. The most dramatic change among the poor that our charity serves right now is in the demographic sector of hardworking lower-middle-class families who are being squeezed into poverty by ever-increasing food, housing, transport, medical, drug, insurance and other costs they are unable to pay. These include:

• Intact low-income families, where three or four persons have the capacity and desire to work, but only one has a job, often at a near-minimum wage that typically generates about $15,000 a year. A $5 wage that opens full- or part-time jobs for the remaining three can change that single survival income into a $30,000-plus income stream to help produce a life of reasonable comfort and dignity.

• Single-parent families, often headed by an educated young woman with one or two infants who supports a live-in partner on an entry-level job income. He cannot find a job and her hours are reduced: As wage-earner, mother and caregiver, she is in extreme stress and they are in crisis. A job-fostering program that helps the partner find work can bring immediate and potentially long-term relief to these folks.

…

You’d think no one can value making $5 an hour. But for those in poverty, a primal need is immediate and reliable access to an income of one’s own. When one has nothing, anything becomes priceless. Watch the expression on the face of a poor person when you provide him or her with $2, $3 or $5 to put gas in a neighbor’s borrowed car so he can bring free groceries, clothing, linens, housewares or furnishings from our organization back home. You’ll see then the value of such a “trivial” wage.

I’ll say just this: If we want to slide back to being a pre-Colonial banana plantation of low-wage workers, this is the way to go. Germany is the powerhouse of the EU — and they aren’t paying anyone the equivalent of five bucks an hour. Henry Ford created the $5 workday almost a hundred years ago (over the outrage of his competitors) so that people could afford to buy a Ford. Creating an economy where no one can afford anything isn’t going to serve anyone.