Backstage at The Price Is Right: Memoirs of A Barker Beauty (10 page)

Chapter 16

Dian Departs

D
ian felt it was time to confront Barker and prepare him for her encore
Playboy
issue that was soon to be published. The timing could not have been worse for the show, given that the Kenny Rogers sex tape scandal was still very fresh in the air. Dian had already shared the photo proofs with me to get my feedback. The photos were exquisite, but extremely racy and more revealing than the ones in the previous issue. This time, Dian bared it all—full frontal, pubic hairs exposed—and did it comfortably. The cover and pictorial were going to be off the charts sizzling hot!

“I’ve sucked your dick too many times to start kissing your ass now! You can go straight to hell, for all I care,” Dian screamed as she slammed Barker’s dressing room door. I just happened to be outside of my dressing room as Dian stormed her way upstairs, heading toward her own dressing room. Several other people who were within earshot also overheard her ranting and raving. I followed Dian to her dressing room to see what was wrong. What had gotten her so upset?

She told me that she and Barker had a huge fight. He was angry about her decision to pose in a second
Playboy
“striptease” (as he had referred to it). She said, “He went crazy and started screaming and yelling at me after I showed him the
Playboy
photo proofs.”

I remarked, “What on earth did you think he was going to say? You know that we were all clearly warned by Mr. Goodson and the production company not to do any more
Playboy
spreads after you did the first one, or we would be fired.”

“Despite of what Goodson and the CBS executives thought about my first
Playboy
issue, Barker thought the photos were hot and a real turn on, especially when we were screwing,” said Dian.

“That was then, and this is now. You and Barker no longer have an intimate relationship. He took a huge step backward from allowing any of us to venture out to do anything that might upstage him and his big ego, especially if it might have a negative impact on the show.”

Dian’s first
Playboy
cover and pictorial in December 1991 had resulted in a backlog of eight months worth of fan mail, which she eventually answered one by one. Her fans mailed in their copies of
Playboy
for Dian to autograph along with self-addressed pre-paid envelopes to ensure they got it back.
The Price Is Right
mailroom was overwhelmed with Dian’s barrage of fan mail.

She had taken her encore
Playboy
issue to the next level of sensuality. When the magazine hit the stands, the shit hit the fan with Barker,
The Price Is Right
producers, and the CBS executives. The live audience had mixed opinions about Dian’s latest
Playboy
pictorial. Barker used his quick wit and humor to play off some of the derogatory questions during the short period between the commercial breaks. But the buzz throughout the show was once again focused on Dian.

As a part of Dian’s deal to pose for
Playboy
, she also agreed to do a Playboy Celebrity Centerfold video. These video productions are largely made up of music and video style vignettes, featuring Playboy Playmates and other models in various stages of nudity and, on occasion, soft-core sex scenes. When Dian shared this with me, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She knew that if she went through with this video venture, she could officially kiss her ass goodbye from the show. I’m certain that Dian realized the ramifications that went along with her second
Playboy
issue, and especially if she performed any type of sex simulation in the Playboy Celebrity Centerfold video. In retrospect, perhaps this was her way of getting back at everybody on the set who had ever said or did anything derogatory toward her. She had threatened to leave the show several times after the breakup with Barker. Now, she knew that it was inevitable, but she was prepared to go out on her own terms.

Aside from her ever-growing popularity with her fans, the crew, and her wealthy gentlemen suitors, things on the set began to spiral downhill for Dian. The tension backstage and on stage between Dian and Barker intensified. Barker got a lot of flak from the CBS executives about Dian’s
Playboy
issue, and they demanded that
TPIR
producers take action to clean up the show’s reputation and get rid of Dian. The female employees on the production staff and the other models had lost even more respect for Dian because of her selfish decision to bare it all once again, not caring whether it would bring further disgrace to the wholesomeness of our family-oriented show. The preexisting differences and ongoing bickering with Holly and Janice escalated and began taking a toll on Dian.

Dian allowed her personal problems to get in the way of work and found it hard to separate the two. She was in a lot of emotional and physical pain and constantly complained about stomachaches. She started missing a lot of work due to health issues brought on by the stressful work environment that had been plaguing her for many years, compounded by the pending Kenny Roger’s sex tape lawsuit.

Dian literally became ill as a result of her worries and problems and was clinically diagnosed with a stomach ulcer. This was perfect timing for
TPIR
producers and the CBS executives. They had made the decision to let Dian go after her racy
Playboy
spread and prior to the release of her Playboy Celebrity Centerfold video. It was just a matter of the
right
time to do it.

Her
Playboy
issue officially hit the stands in May of 1993, and within a month—because
TPIR
was not up for another scandal or further negative press—the producers worked out a feasible severance pay for Dian and sent her on her way. During Dian’s last show, Barker announced her final appearance on air, stating that Parkinson was leaving the show to “pursue other interests.” Barker held the microphone up to Dian and chatted with her for a moment to allow her to bid farewell to the millions of viewers and her devoted fans.

We had a small going away party for Dian backstage with appetizers, cake, and champagne. A few members of the press were in attendance. Of course, Holly and Janice were long gone, headed home, and didn’t attend the gathering to bid their longtime co-worker farewell.

Prior to their leaving the studio, when asked by the press how they felt about Dian’s departure from the show, Holly commented, “Good riddance. I can’t wait to come to work next week, knowing that I never have to see Dian or work with her again.”

Janice simply stated, “I wish her well.”

I was sad to see Dian go, and I was going to miss her terribly. We hugged and cried and made champagne toasts all evening. It would never be the same backstage and on the set at Studio 33 without the presence of the beautiful, voluptuous, dynamite Dian.

Chapter 17

Janice’s Traumatic Story

T
hree years passed since I began working on the show, and I was very well aware of the hellish nightmare with which Janice had been plagued, regarding her second husband, Fritz Stammberger. Fritz was a prominent German mountain climber who had mysteriously disappeared in 1975 in a restricted area along the Russian, Afghanistan, and Pakistan borders. It took her seventeen years to discover his fate.

Janice was one of the most exceptionally caring women I had ever met; she was poised, eloquent, thoughtful, and classy. She had the most beautiful, vibrant skin, which matched her inner and outer persona. Having been the
first
and
original
Barker Beauty, Janice had set a fine precedence for the other models to follow. When she sat down to showcase a prize, she had the inherent ability to cross her legs so gently, so gracefully, without showing any fat, creases, or cellulite (not that she had any, but who over the age of thirty doesn’t have something to hide?). Her legs just seemed to fall right into place at the right space and time, which would denote a beautiful form of a graceful, lovely lady. I would always refer to this as the “JP leg cross.” No one could cross their legs as elegantly as Janice. Janice also originated the slow, gracious extension of the arms and hand gestures. She would instruct me by saying, “It’s all in the wrists.”

Janice spent most of her early modeling years in New York City. She was signed with one of New York’s most prestigious modeling agents, Eileen Ford. It was every model’s dream to be represented by Ford Modeling Agency. During that time, Ford agency was one of the few agencies that was “across the board,” which meant they were licensed to represent their models for TV commercials as well as print and runway modeling. The hot blonde bombshell was very popular and talented and landed more than fifty jobs while with the Ford Agency, one of which was the front cover of
Vogue Magazine
. She was also a professional dancer and worked alongside the likes of Jimmy Durante and Eddie Fisher, just to name a few. When she arrived on the Los Angeles scene, she continued to flourish. The television and movie studios loved her. She appeared in an episode of
Ironside
. She also worked as a regular for almost two years on
Playboy After Dark
, and landed the role of the sexy, flashy body painted dancer on
Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In
after Goldie Hawn left the show.

Janice was a Cancer, born July 8
th
, and so was my mother, whose birthday was July 15
th
. My mother adored all of the models, but Janice was her favorite, and Janice had a great fondness for Mom as well. Whenever Mom would visit the show, there existed a real exchange of affection between them. Mom would often come to the show with her special baked treats for Barker, the Beauties, staff, and crew. Her apricot strudel was the pièce de résistance backstage. Janice loved mom’s strudel and could never get enough. Mom would always bake an ample amount to go around for everyone. When word got out that Mrs. Bradley had brought strudel to the set, there was a foot race to the Green Room. Of course, she always sent a special batch to Barker’s dressing room. After he had indulged in the goodies, he would graciously thank her with a hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz?

My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.

Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends;

so Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz?”

The opening line of “Mercedes Benz,” a song most famously recorded by singer Janis Joplin in the early 1970s, gently poked fun at materialism and our desires for the finer things in life. While Janice drove a Mercedes Benz two-door convertible sports car, I drove a four-door, family-sized Mercury Marquee. Janice lived in Beverly Hills; I lived in Baldwin Hills. She shopped at Niemen Marcus; I shopped at JC Pennée. She bought shoes and handbags from Gucci; I went to Payless and Nine West. Janice and her husband, Carlos, dined at Arnie Morton’s Steak House, while Terrence and I ate at Sizzler. We were raising three children, while they had none. Raising three children and sending them to private schools consumed most of our hard-earned money, but it was worth it. Though Janice was unable to bear children, she possessed a warm, nurturing quality.

Despite our different lifestyles, Janice and I had a lot in common. There is an unspoken code amongst Baby Boomers that seems to always draw us closer, no matter who we are or where we go, like a gravitational pull. Even with a nine-year age difference between us, we both grew up during similar times and appreciated the era of bubble gum, bobby socks, penny candy, Buster Brown shoes, Elvis Presley, the first television and twenty-five-cent admission to the movie theaters, where we could fantasize about the Hollywood musicals that always made us feel good with happy endings—although the happy days might depend on who is telling the story and the color of your skin.

After Dian left the show, Janice and I became closer. Janice discussed Fritz’s tragedy with me a number of times. There were moments during rehearsals when she seemed to be lost in thought, silent and serene, peering out into the darkness of the empty audience. She was good at putting her personal feelings aside, even when she was grieving and felt torn inside. She always found the courage and strength to rise to the occasion during the actual taping of the show. As the doors flew open and the applause exploded over the famous
Price Is Right
theme song, her smile and presence radiated from the stage. Afterwards, Janice would hand Barker the microphone and scurry backstage to get ready for the next item up for bid.

Unfortunately, Janice’s obsession with uncovering what had happened to Fritz, and probably some unresolved feelings from their marriage and possibly the specter of lingering hopes that he might still be alive, nearly ruined her real happiness, and her marriage with Carlos. Carlos de Abreu was an extremely good-looking man, who exemplified the meaning of tall, dark, and handsome. They were married in April 1984. He was her biggest supporter, business partner, and best friend. Carlos was an author, screenplay writer, and producer. Together, they founded the Hollywood Film Festival in 1997.

Carlos would visit the
TPIR
set occasionally and would come to a few show-related events and studio parties. I enjoyed talking with him whenever I had the opportunity. He shared a little of his life’s history with me, such as growing up in Mozambique and witnessing many years of slavery, tyranny, and racism. He also served as a pilot in the Portuguese Air Force but later went into exile and fled to Madrid, Spain. In the 1980s, he worked as an executive and partner with Cartier and spent many years traveling from New York to Hong Kong and Geneva, Switzerland, the home base for Cartier. As soon as Carlos mentioned Geneva, I felt compelled to share my travels and experiences I’d had throughout the world with The Love Machine. I told Carlos that of all of the many places we had traveled abroad, the South of France was my favorite—but Geneva was a close second. He was familiar with Club 58, the very popular nightspot where we’d performed and the hotel where we always stayed, Hotel Athénée.

I jokingly teased Carlos and said, “So you work with Cartier? I love Cartier. However, I prefer your competitor Piaget’s watches over Cartier’s. Monsieur Piaget was one of The Love Machine’s biggest fans when we performed at Club 58. He would invite the group over to his table after the show and order the finest champagne and caviar.”

I added, “On many occasions, after our last performance, we’d close the club down and stagger out into the break of dawn with some of the wealthiest people in the world. Time flies when you’re having fun. No pun intended.”

Carlos chuckled, and he was impressed to hear about my many years of world travel. He was very knowledgeable about the entertainment industry and would pass on many good tips to me when asked. He was a charming, distinguished gentleman whom Janice absolutely loved and adored—and I clearly understood why.

In 1992, a streak of light appeared through Janice’s overshadowing darkness. The end of her quest to unravel the hidden truth about the tragic events surrounding Fritz’s disappearance was near. Her faithful and devoted husband, Carlos, was right by her side through her relentless journey. One day in rehearsal, I sat next to Janice and asked, “What motivated you and kept you going for so many years on this rollercoaster ride?”

“Two decades working on
The Price Is Right
is what kept me going,” said Janice. “It was something I depended on when everything else was being turned upside down. Barker knew of my plight, but always respected my privacy. But most importantly, it was Carlos who kept me motivated, kept me going, and kept me sane. He stood by me in my darkest hours of gloom and desperation. Carlos never wavered in his love for me. He also realized that in order for me to get on with our future, he needed to help release me from my past. Our last trip to Russia in November 1992 sealed the door to my past after we finally found out the truth about Fritz. ‘Look forward, not backward, and try harder; there is no time to waste.’ That’s what Carlos believed, and that’s what I wanted to do.”

In December of 1993, Janice’s book,
Husband, Lover, Spy,
was released. It was a true story about Fritz’s disappearance and her infinite love for Carlos.
Husband, Lover, Spy
was not only a compelling love story, but also an exciting political thriller. I was intrigued by her story. The more Janice dug into the truth surrounding Fritz’s disappearance, the more apparent the cover-up became. The CIA wanted her to stop probing; the KGB agreed to assist her. To think that I was working this closely with someone who was caught in the middle of a deadly game that trapped her in a whirlwind of clandestine meetings, mysterious phone calls, and messages from the underworld of espionage was fascinating. The read for this book was like something straight out of a
James Bond
movie. The information and occurrences regarding Fritz’s disappearance, as handed down to Carlos from a Russian informant (named Viktor, no doubt) during their last trip to Moscow, read as follows from an excerpt of
Husband, Lover, Spy
: “In 1974, Fritz was recruited by the CIA. He collected valuable information, and he helped organize bases in Afghanistan and Pakistan. He was involved in the mujahidin struggle against the Soviet Union, and he died in the early eighties, inside Afghanistan. ‘Fritz was a spy,’ reported Viktor. ‘He died a hero, trying to bring about change for justice in the fight for freedom and what he believed in.’

Fritz’s remains were buried about two miles from the Pakistani border, inside Afghanistan, but the U.S. State Department refused to assist Janice and Carlos in retrieving his remains. Upon Janice’s return from Russia, she had requested assistance from Secretary of State Warren Christopher and President Clinton, but they never replied. Since Fritz never had a proper burial, Janice and Carlos had a ceremony in his memory at the foot of the Santa Monica Mountains by the ocean.

After reading her book, I gained yet another level of respect for Janice and Carlos. Janice had carried around this empty feeling in her heart for Fritz for seventeen years, and at last, she had an outlet, a release, by way of sharing her story with the world.