“I had every intention. I graduated from Columbia and was in my first year of law school at Harvard when I realized it just wasn’t for me. I started writing for the Lampoon and one thing led to another, and I knew this is what made me happy.”

“When you knew you weren’t going to go through with law school, how did that phone call home go over?”

“It wasn’t a phone call, it was a visit. I had to tell them in person.” Grant sobered a little. Even though it had been years, the scene was still fresh and obviously a little painful.

It was time to change the subject. “How did you get out here to LA?”

“I landed my first job writing on the original Roseanne show. People had started recruiting from the Lampoon and I got lucky.”

“Lucky? I’ve heard horror stories about their writers’ room. Are any of the stories true?”

He smiled. “My first day there, Tom Arnold came in and handed out numbered T-shirts to all of us. He and Roseanne didn’t want to have to learn any of our names. They just wanted to call out our number when they spoke to us.”

“That’s crazy! Do you remember your number?”

“I sure do, it was eighteen, and I still have the shirt.”

“You should frame it.”

“I know, but everyone has those kinds of stories about first coming to LA.”

I told him about working for Les Moonves. I saved my escapades with “Norma Jean” the rock star. She wasn’t for a first date. When our food arrived, Grant dug in and I hesitated. I was never sure if you were supposed to put the whole piece of sushi in your mouth or if you could bite part of it off the chopsticks. I always felt like whatever I did, it wouldn’t be seemly. I carefully picked up a piece of California roll and raised the chopsticks to my mouth. I opened wide and closed around the entire piece and immediately regretted it, because my mouth was so full the rice was threatening to spill out.

Grant asked me about work, but I was careful to temper my answers about the morgue stuff; guys sometimes found all that blood and guts talk a little scary.

“So you’re writing on The Simpsons, but working on a new show also?” I asked.

“Yeah. It’s a busy time.” Suddenly he seemed tired. “I had been playing around with a couple of ideas for pilots, and Fox picked one of them up, so I’m kind of doing double duty, writing on The Simpsons, and starting to cast the pilot. We’re hoping to start shooting the pilot in six weeks.”

“Wow, that’s fast.” I said, impressed.

“Very fast.”

“What’s the new show called?” I asked.

“The Grant Katz Untitled Project,” he answered, in an official sounding voice.

“Oh.” I laughed.