isaacleicht:

MY SUNDAY WITH ALEC BALDWIN HELPS ME ANSWER THE QUESTION…

Is Alec Baldwin God?

“…The question is, do I have a God complex? …I AM GOD.” - Alec Baldwin as Dr. Jed Hill in Malice. 1993. Written by a young Aaron Sorkin. 

We know Mr. Baldwin is a God of stage and screen. He’s mastered every genre. He’s re-invented himself as a comedic actor by taking a small page out of De Niro’s book, using his age and persona to his advantage. Only here’s the rub…

Unlike De Niro, Alec isn’t a parody of himself. Alec Baldwin is really, really funny.

And he’s not the kind of funny where you put a bunch of improv folks around a dramatic actor to make him funny. Alec gets it. He elevates performers around him. You might say, in this regard, Alec is God or, “he’s a real Alec Baldwin.”

If you want earlier evidence than 30 Rock, just go back to SNL in the 90’s when Alec began a run of hosting gigs so epic that Steve Martin started looking over his shoulder… Canteen Boy?

But what drives Mr. Baldwin?

Does he breath normal air? Does he know Karate? I bet he knows Karate. Does he exfoliate on a regular basis? How does he keep his chin so god damned square and perfect? When he makes love to a woman, does she just turn into dust post-coitus, upon realizing that she will never, ever re-live the glory of the 4.5 hours she just experienced, when Alec graced her lady parts with his undoubtedly gargantuan bishop?

Does Alec have a dog? I bet he has a dog. Or maybe he doesn’t have a dog ‘cause he isn’t at home a lot and he’s not the kind of asshole who would leave a dog alone all the time, he’d nurture his dog. He’d be there and if he couldn’t, he wouldn’t make the promise.

What about downtime? Does Alec ever dangle his feet off a dock, drink a Guinness and maybe, just maybe, stop being awesome for long enough to realize how awesome he is?

After much pursuit, I finally got Alec on the phone to discuss this project:

Alec: “Alec Baldwin here.”

Me: “Hi Mr. Baldwin, sir. I’m that guy who wanted to shadow you on Sunday. I got your number from *REDACTED* who used to work for Cher.”

Alec: “Why would you want to shadow me? I’m just a regular guy, like anyone else. I put my pants on one leg at a time.”

Me: “Exactly.”

Alec: “Hey, not to be a dick or anything, but what’s this article for?”

Me: “I have a blog.”

Alec: “I see. I’m so sorry. Let’s see what we can do about that.”

I shadowed Alec for one Sunday. It was the greatest day of my life. Here’s what Mr. Baldwin did…

• 5:30AM - Alec wakes up, drinks pure tomato juice with a splash of cayenne pepper, eats an egg white omelet and a fruit salad prepared by his chef, who he pays well and to whom he is very kind.

• 6:00AM - Alec reads the Sunday New York Times cover to cover on the toilet, it’s a ton of reading because it’s the Sunday New York Times. No big deal though, ‘cause Alec is a speed-reader. He also has a TV so he can watch CNN in the bathroom. Alec doesn’t watch Fox News unless he’s doing research. He’s not a fucking asshole.

• 6:20AM - Alec does Tai Chi on his roof deck as he surveys his city per an agreement with his friend Mike Bloomberg, whereby Alec has agreed to keep watch over the city for at least 20 minutes a day from a high vantage point. Alec spots a crack in the sidewalk with his eagle-like vision and calls City Hall, so they can repair the crack before anyone trips. Mr. Baldwin also thwarts 2 muggers and a rapist but asks me not to mention that because it’s “too showy.”

• 6:45AM - Alec takes a shower. The water pressure is unlike anything you even know about. Alec uses hygiene products not available to the general public, because he’s Alec fucking Baldwin and he knows about stuff that makes you smell good and gets you extra clean.

• 7:25AM - On his way out of the house, Alec sneaks a danish out of the pantry because he’s “earned this.” He was an international sex symbol for thirty years, he’s earned a danish and fuck you for judging him. Then, Alec waits in front of his building for his driver to arrive because he isn’t one of those Hollywood dicks who needs to be called and told the car is there. While waiting, Alec listens to The Goldberg Variations on his Ipod and gives directions to a lost group of German tourists. He also reads The New Yorker cover to cover, it takes him 1 minute and 30 seconds.

• 7:30AM - In the back seat of his eco-friendly car, Alec does an NPR phone interview, promoting his foundation to stop the slaughter of Japanese dolphins, while also continuing to write his play. Alec doesn’t use laptops. He writes everything longhand because that’s what men do and because he knows that someday, his written work will be on display at a museum. He’s been writing this dramatic play for five years. Don’t ask what historical event Alec’s play is about. You haven’t heard of it and frankly, you wouldn’t understand it. It’s something between Falstaff and The Crucible, only smarter, more genuine, and grander in scale.

• 8:00AM - Alec arrives at the helipad where he meets Lorne Michaels. On their way into the chopper, Lorne farts. Lorne’s fart is so loud that it can be heard over the whirring blades of the helicopter. Alec says, “Well, excuuuuse me!” Taking credit for the fart and saving Lorne Michaels the embarrassment of admitting that it was, in fact, Lorne who farted.

• 8:20AM - Lorne and Alec discuss Alec’s bit for a charity event that Alec is hosting later that evening. Lorne proposes Alec do his legendary monologue from Glenngary Glen Ross, “as a goof,” whereby Alec would replace every mention of sales with incidents of violence that have taken place in The Congo. Alec is polite but it’s obvious to everyone but Lorne that Alec isn’t listening. While nodding politely at Lorne, Alec re-reads Spinoza’s Ethics in his head, from memory.

• 9:00AM - Alec and Lorne arrive at Tommy Mottola’s house for a star-studded brunch in celebration of a new fashion line Alec designed months earlier on a cocktail napkin, while dining with Mia Farrow at Sardis. Alec tells me he was “just kidding around” and never meant to get into the “whole high fashion thing” but that he was, “just killing time before seeing Warhorse.” Later, Nick Cannon spills an entire beer into Alec’s lap while trying to do Abbott and Costello’s Who’s On First. Alec is shockingly cool about the beer spilling, but deeply offended and visibly shaken by Nick Cannon’s bastardization of Who’s On First.

• 12:00PM - After glad handing and back slapping for hours, Alec tires of the event in his honor and pays a busboy $5,000 to borrow his clothing and Honda Fit Sport. Then, Alec sneaks away from the party, quietly, and drives to a local hospital.

• 1:00PM - At the hospital, Alec visits kids in the burn unit and cancer ward. He’s asked me not to write about this part, so I’ll just mention that Mr. Baldwin spends the next two hours doing impressions of Yo Gabba Gabba! When I ask why he’s decided to slink away from his own event, Alec says, “every day is an event when you work with a fart machine like Lorne Michaels.” I can only assume Alec was kidding, as while saying this, he placed his hand in his arm pit and made fart noises. Was the fart gag for me, or the children? I’m not sure and I don’t care. It was magical.

• 3:30PM - Alec heads back to the helipad because “The Yankees are playing the Red Sox and I’ll be damned if I’m going to miss a Sunday game against the devil.” We get into the chopper, Lorne is nowhere to be found. Screaming to me as he competes with the whirring chopper blades, Alec notes, “Lorne does this all the time. He comes out to the Hamptons, gets lost in the woods on a Molson and popcorn bender, eventually he finds his way home. I think it’s a Canadian thing, you know, the whole Maple Syrup fetish?” This goes completely over my head but I pretend I know exactly what Alec is talking about because I don’t want him to break eye contact with me. But not in a gay way and not that there’s anything wrong with it if it were in a gay way. I’m just saying.

• 4:30PM - Alec pays the helicopter pilot in cufflinks, a currency he has just created, to land the chopper on the pitcher’s mound of Yankee Stadium. “Trust me, the crowd will love this.” Alec is right, the crowd goes wild. Then, Alec rips his shirt open, revealing a t-shirt of a kitten available for adoption. He explains to me later that the whole stunt was just to bring awareness to PETA. We take our seats next to Rudy Giuliani and Alec buys me a hot dog. Alec doesn’t eat meat, but he is that cool. Then, he and Giuliani talk about public policy and how to combat terrorism. Alec shows Giuliani the blueprints for a new non-lethal weapon he’s been designing for “kicks” and explains how it will likely do away with killing as a means to winning wars.

• 6:30PM - Alec and I catch the chopper in the Yankee Stadium parking lot and fly to Lincoln Center, where Alec instructs the pilot to land in the fountain. “Another PETA stunt?” I ask. “Nope, just for convenience,” Alec replies. But it turns out I was right, Alec takes another chance to bring awareness to the animal cruelty issue by miming a kitten licking itself clean in front of the Metropolitan Opera House. Alec’s kitten impression is so real that people begin leaving saucers of milk and countless balls of yarn at his feet. Then, we head inside, where Alec proceeds to instruct the New York City Ballet on how to En Croix, En dedans and En dehors properly because he “saw them perform last week. It was good. It could have been great.”

• 7:30PM - Alec and I arrive at Alec’s mother’s house. Alec visits his mother once a week. Let this be a lesson to all of you. “You know, sometimes I wonder if she is aware of my accomplishments,” Alec asks. “Seriously? do you not know who you are?” I reply. “Who is that?” Alec asks. “You are Alec Baldwin!” I reply. “There are people walking around every day without shoes. I don’t mean to be melodramatic, but that’s just a fact. So I may be Alec Baldwin, but until we are all ‘Alec Baldwin’ my work is hardly done.” I then lock myself in Alec’s mother’s sun-room and sob uncontrollably for 25 minutes. 

• 8:30PM - Alec and I arrive at the Waldorf Astoria where he is the guest of honor at a charity event benefiting victims of violence in The Sudan. While I enjoy a 50 year-old single malt Scottish whiskey (I called it “Scotch” and Alec corrected me, explaining that Scotch is Whiskey from Scotland and that there is also Irish Whiskey. Never the two should be confused. By the way, Alec doesn’t even drink, he just knows everything). Alec asks me if I have the notes he made on the chopper for his speech. I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about and then he pretended to panic before smacking me on the leg and asking, “Did I get ya? I got ya, right?” He then turned to Lorne Michaels, who arrived late, presumably from his travels in the wilds of the Hamptons and said, “This kid thought I made notes for my speech. Notes!” Lorne replied, “Alec, I really think you should do the Glenngary Glen Ross Congo bit.” Once again, Alec nods politely at Lorne, but dismisses the idea. Then he takes the podium and gives a speech that can only be described as one million angels singing together, in hushed tones of brilliance. When the speech is done, the crowd applauds so loudly that the building nearly collapses under the sound waves.

• 10:00PM - It’s now just after ten and Alec brings me to his favorite haunt. It’s a cigar and whiskey bar downtown, just outside of the financial district, with what Alec describes as “The best reading room slash foosball establishment in all five boroughs.” There we are, just Alec, Lorne, Michael Bloomberg, Henry Kissinger and myself. Picture Eyes Wide Shut minus the mask-laden prostitutes and plus a bunch of rich and powerful dudes playing foosball and reading first editions of The Snows of Kilimanjaro. It’s literally what I dreamed Alec did in his spare time. He’s a gentleman, he has respect for the finer things, he’s well read and sophisticated but he’s not above kicking the shit out of Henry Kissinger in foosball. At one point, through all the cigar smoke, I turn to Alec and ask, “Bloomberg is here and he’s cool with us smoking in doors?” Alec replies, “Let me make something clear. This day?” “Yes?” I ask “This day? It never happened.”

          “But then again, maybe it did.”

(if you’ve read this far you should be ashamed of yourself)