BEHIND THE CURTAIN BEHIND THE CURTAIN BEHIND THE CURTAIN (14 page)

“Son, I only write happy songs these days, always from the girl’s point of view. She’s much more emotionally invested than the guy.”

“What an insight,” I said.

He didn’t respond, which was my cue to leave. Too embarrassed to give my card to all the big-wigs at the table, I made a quick exit and took a cab back to the hotel. I checked to see if Dennis
and Dwight
had returned to their rooms, but they hadn’t. It was midnight, so their evening was probably just getting started.

I had a restless night and woke up at 6 a.m. central time, 4 a.m. Pacific, which I was still on. It was way too early to check on my wayward friends, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. So I just lay there and worried about things I couldn’t control: Where did they go the night before? Why did they ditch me? Would they return to the hotel? Where else could they possibly be? Should I have tried to find them instead of going out on the town? Will I ever find them on this trip? Will I still have a job when I go home?

By 10 a.m. I couldn’t wait any longer. Even though it was still too early to disturb the party animals, I called Dwight
, but there no answer. I tried knocking on his door—several times. Still no answer. I was beginning to feel desperate. Time to call anyone and everyone who could give me any information that would lead me to Dennis
. I started with the woman at the front desk, who told me Dennis
and Dwight
had checked out. I called Shannon Heim, the publicist for the CMAs, asking what time Dennis
’s rehearsal was scheduled. She told me the bit had been scratched.

“
Are you kidding me?”
I yelled.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Why was Dennis
cut?”

“I’m not sure. You’ll have to check with him.”

“Where is he?”

“You’ll have to check with him.”

Circular conversation. I hung up, haunted by the possibility that my worst case scenario was fast becoming a reality. Next, I called the hangar at the airport, and they confirmed what I most feared. Dennis
and Dwight
had taken off. I asked for their ETA in Los Angeles but was told the itinerary had changed. They were headed for Las Vegas! I immediately called Dwight
’s assistant in Los Angeles to try to find out where they would be staying, but Dwight
hadn’t told her about their new destination, so I asked her to have him call me the moment he checked in.

I reported the bad news to Debbie
, who wasn’t sure how to react, which was a first. She knew I had done everything I could. “I can’t believe those guys,” she said. Then she started teasing me about not going to the strip club. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if you had just done it. Besides, Mary would have been okay with it, right?”

“Ah yeah, sure.”

“Well, I think what you need to do now is catch the first plane to Vegas,” she said.

“Huh?”

“You need to find Dennis
.”

“He could be anywhere. I don’t even know for sure if they’re actually there.”

“You said they were flying to Vegas.”

“Who knows with those guys? They could’ve changed their minds mid-flight.”

“Oh come on, there’s no way Dennis
would change his mind about Vegas.”

She was right. Dennis
once appeared on our show when it originated from Las Vegas. We had seen him around show girls and gambling. That was his comfort zone. Actually, more like his obsession.

“Look, Deb, let me talk to Dwight
first. Maybe he’ll tell me the name of the hotel. I left him a message. I’m sure he’ll get back to me.”

“Oh, you want to rely on Dwight
now?”

“I just feel funny about flying off to Vegas because I’ll be in the air for several hours and out of pocket.”

“Well, do what you have to do.”

That went well, except I didn’t really know if I would ever hear from Dwight
. So what next? Sit around and worry all day like a high school girl waiting by the phone for that special guy to invite her to the prom? I decided to stay in Nashville and do something I knew how to do: eat!

It was late morning, and I headed for the iconic Pancake Pantry, where a friend had invited me to meet up. When I arrived, there was a long line outside the restaurant, but that was okay. I was about to experience the best pancakes in the world, concocted from secret family recipes. Except I don’t remember tasting them. Just as the pancakes arrived, my cell phone rang. It was Dwight
.

“What’s your problem?” he asked, clearly taking the offensive.

“What’s my problem? First of all, you’re in Vegas, and I’m in Nashville!”

“So what?” Confirmation they were in Vegas.

“What hotel are you at?”

“What’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me? Let’s start with you guys standing me up for dinner.”

“You said you didn’t want to go to the strip club.”

“I said I didn’t want to go to the strip club, not that I didn’t want to go to dinner.”

“Dennis
was getting impatient.”

“Well, thanks for letting me know. And thanks for letting me know you were checking out the next day, and that Dennis
was scratched from the CMAs. And that you were going to Vegas. What am I supposed to do now?”

“You’re supposed to go to the CMAs. That is why you’re there, isn’t it?”
Busted!
Dwight
was on to me.

“Okay, okay, but what happened to Dennis
’s bit?”

“It’s not a very nice story.” He was clearly angry.

Then Dwight
hit me with an odd question: “Are you telling me you don’t want Dennis
to do your show now? Because that wouldn’t be good.”

“No, I’m telling you I’m worried he won’t be on time for
our show. He’s in Las Vegas. You’ll never get him out of there.”

“Trust me, Dennis
is where he should be. He likes it here. And we’ll be at the studio on time tomorrow, so stop worrying.”

“You’re right, I am worried. Can you just fly him home tonight?” I pleaded.

“No, this is better than home for him. He’ll be occupied and distracted here. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself at home.”

“Look, why don’t I just join you there? I’ll feel better knowing where he is.”

“No, you’re better off there. I promise. Dennis
will be on time tomorrow. I won’t even let him go home. We’ll check into a hotel in Los Angeles. That way we’ll be even closer to the studio.”

“Yeah, but I can’t send a helicopter to downtown Los Angeles to pick him up.”

“Relax, Dave. We don’t need a helicopter. We’ll show up tomorrow.”

I called Debbie
, who was as curious as I was about what happened to Dennis
at the CMAs. She didn’t like the idea that Dennis
would be spending the night in Vegas and still thought I should fly there. I told her I believed Dwight
. Something happened at the CMAs that really hurt Dennis
, and now he wanted to do our show to boost his morale and maybe take a swipe at the CMAs. She encouraged me once again to go to Las Vegas to find Dennis
and Dwight
but told me to do what I thought was best. But no matter what I did, I better make sure Dennis
showed up.

By then I had lost all enthusiasm for the CMAs. I had to force myself to attend, but I ended up having a wonderful time. When Deana Carter performed “Did I Shave My Legs for This?”
the audience loved it, but I thought it would have been much better with Dennis
in a dress as the kicker. It would have been a great topic for Jay and Dennis
to discuss on our show, too. Now we had a new topic: Why was Dennis
mysteriously dropped?

The highlight of the evening for me came when it was announced Harlan Howard
was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame. I was glad to be there to see it, but figured it was best not to seek out and congratulate him after the show. Ironically, I was grateful to Dennis
for the chance to go to the CMAs. It was the only time I attended the program.

The next day at
The Tonight Show
I briefed Jay and Debbie
about possible topics for Dennis
’s segment. The producers met with Jay every day at noon to discuss the guests scheduled to appear on that day’s show. Jay had the final say about the questions he would ask, but it was the producer’s job to do the research and come up with a list.

He was very amused by the Nashville story, particularly the part about the strip club. No surprise there. He was a comedian, always trying to find humor in a situation. I know what he was thinking: What could be funnier than to get the “Christian guy” to admit going to a “titty bar” with his buddy Dennis Rodman
? No matter that it didn’t happen. Why let the truth stand in the way of a good joke?

Debbie
saw what was happening and asked Jay not to bring up the strip club because it would embarrass me. While I appreciated her sweet gesture, I was actually glad Jay had diverted her attention from Dennis
’s arrival time.

I had done a lot of worrying for nothing. Dennis
showed up on time, thus breaking his own protocol. Halleluiah! Maybe he figured I had suffered enough in Nashville. Yeah, right! I was just glad something turned out as planned. Now my job would be pretty routine: Encourage Dennis
to have a good time and speak up. The real Dennis
was really a shy guy who had been picked on as a kid, and he often spoke too softly to be heard.

His outfits were always loud, outrageous and expensive, costing several thousand dollars. It was his trademark, and his look bolstered his confidence. That night he was wearing a pink-leather jacket, a leopard-print open-collar shirt, black-leather pants, and black high-top tennis shoes. He was sporting a stylized black-fur Derby hat, which had a band of rhinestones and bright, pink feathers on the side of the brim. He also had a huge chain necklace, but his facial jewelry was very minimal: two small hoops in the left ear and a small nose ring in the left nostril.

Dennis
’s wardrobe always made me smile because I knew it was just his way of saying:
This is my world and my protocol, such as it is. Now you’re all part of it.
And we were, even Jay. He always had the same reaction to Dennis
’s outfits: “You remind me of Huggy Bear.”

It was a reference to a character on the 70s television show
Starsky & Hutch.
Huggy Bear was a jive-talking guy who wore absurdly ostentatious outfits. Few people probably even remembered Huggy Bear, but that didn’t matter. Jay always cracked himself up when he said it, and so he began each interview with Dennis
on a happy note.

That night, Dennis put on one of his best performances. He even got in a light-hearted dig at Deana Carter by suggesting she dropped him from her act because she didn’t want to be upstaged by the “great Dennis Rodman.” He said it tongue in cheek, but I think he meant it. For the record, I was never able to find out why Dennis was cut. When I asked Deana and her people about it, they said the CMAs told them to do it.

As for my secret Nashville assignment that Debbie
had asked Jay not to mention, he did it anyway, telling our millions of viewers, including my family, church, and friends, that he had sent his most conservative guy—Dave Berg—to Nashville to keep an eye on Dennis
in a strip club.

Jay to Dennis
: “You leave him there. You take off for Vegas on a jet, and he’s stuck in a topless bar.” Dennis
immediately agreed. Then he glanced over where I was sitting off-camera and winked.

Hey, I was working for a comedian at a late-night show. Being the butt of jokes came with the territory. And to this day, Mary says a little part of her is not quite sure about that strip club story.

The Nashville caper was always a mystery to me. Why did we spend so much time and money just to make sure Dennis
Rodman
showed up on time when we had never gone to such lengths for any other guest? I had convinced myself the real reason Debbie
did it was to help me jump-start my songwriting career. Years later I was at a dinner party with her and my colleagues, and I asked her why she did it.

“I sent you to Nashville because I didn’t trust Dennis
,” she said. “That’s it.”

“That’s funny . . . because I thought you were trying to help me get connected in Nashville.”

“What are you talking about?”

Okay then. Mystery solved.

Chapter Eight

John F. Kennedy Jr.,
the Favorite Guest

Jay was twelve years old when President Kennedy was assassinated in 1963. He was sitting with his mother in their living room watching the funeral procession on television as three-year-old “John John,” dressed in a shorts outfit, saluted his father’s casket passing by.

Jay’s mother was crying hysterically as she asked: “What’s going to happen to that little boy?” Jay wanted to help her stop crying but felt helpless. After all, he was only a kid and she was an adult. What could he do? It was a terribly sad moment, but it eventually faded from Jay’s memory.

Thirty-five years later, on May 14, 1998, the late John F. Kennedy Jr. was booked as a guest on
The Tonight Show.
He was a great “get” and everyone, including Jay, was excited. When he went into the dressing room to meet with John before the show, he had no recollection of the moment with his mother. That wouldn’t happen until John actually made his entrance onto the stage. Jay reached out to shake his hand, and as he did so, he happened to glance into the monitor where he witnessed the handshake as it was happening. That’s when it hit Jay, and tears suddenly came to his eyes. He wanted to say to his mom, “Look, he’s right here. He’s fine. It’s okay.”

Like Jay, I had vivid memories of “John John” at his father’s funeral. The assassination and funeral were landmark events for the baby boomer generation Jay and I belong to. The three major networks (ABC, CBS, and NBC) provided round-the-clock coverage for four days. There had never been anything like it on television.

While JFK Jr. came from the world’s most prominent political family, he transcended politics. He was American royalty. I booked and worked with his sister, Caroline, and had already experienced the magic of the Kennedy name. I saw how reverential the studio audience was of her. John rarely did television interviews and had never done one on a late-night show, so I knew he wouldn’t be easy to bring in.

I figured my best—and maybe only—chance would be to go through a new magazine he co-founded called
George.
Magazines were always a risky venture, and this one was really headed for uncharted water. Aptly subtitled “Not Just Politics as Usual,”
George
was a slick, hip, monthly fusion of politics and celebrity in a way that had never been done before. The debut issue featured a sexy cover picture of Cindy Crawford as George Washington, dressed in a white wig and a revolutionary soldier uniform. Other cover pictures portrayed George Clooney as Thomas Jefferson, Harrison Ford as Abraham Lincoln, Barbra Streisand as Betsy Ross, Julia Roberts as Susan B. Anthony, and Charles Barkley as George Washington. Contributors included Ann Coulter, Paul Begala, Al Franken, Norman Mailer, and Madonna, who wrote a piece called “If I Were President.”

I called
George’s
publicity director, Nancy Haberman, offering John a spot on the show. I was fairly confident they would take my invitation seriously. They had too much at stake to dismiss
The Tonight Show
outright. Still, John was media shy, so I didn’t expect to get an answer in a week, or even a month. But I never thought it would take six years.

Nancy stopped taking my calls after a year, though I kept calling her. I wasn’t a pushy guy, but I was paid to book A-level celebrities, so I never stopped making offers until I was asked. Then I would start again in about three months.

I realize this sounds counterintuitive. The normal response would be to dismiss Nancy for being rude and move on. But a good producer can never let ego stand in the way of a booking. I had dealt with many people like Nancy, and I tried to look at the world from their point of view. Most
people don’t like to deliver bad news, and I had a feeling John
was probably losing interest in our show. I figured she didn’t want to tell me that and was hoping I would figure it out on my own.

One day I called Nancy and was transferred to John’s executive assistant, RoseMarie Terenzio. She confirmed my assumptions about John but made it a point to tell me she was a fan of
The Tonight Show
and wanted to stay in touch. So that’s what I did for the next four years. I would call her whenever I read news about John or
George
to get her take on it. In turn, I would bring her up to date on
The Tonight Show
and Hollywood gossip. We were both keeping the lines of communication open, and in so doing we became friends.

RoseMarie was very aware about what was going on in John’s life. It was obvious to me she was more than John’s assistant. She had become his confidante. So the day she finally told me he wanted to do our show, I was pretty jazzed; but I wasn’t surprised because I knew she played a big part in the decision. Nevertheless, I was skeptical. It wouldn’t be a sure thing until he actually showed up at Studio 3.

She said John would do the show only if we agreed not to promote it beforehand. That threw us for a loop. Only one guest had ever made such a demand: author Salman Rushdie, and he was the target of a fatwa calling for his death. When the show scored a name as big as John Kennedy Jr., we wanted to shout it from the highest mountaintops to bring in as many viewers as possible.

Obviously, promotions help both the show and the guest, so why did John make such a strange demand? RoseMarie said at the time her boss was concerned that news of his booking would upset David Letterman’s people, and he didn’t want to deal with their inevitable relentless phone calls. I didn’t tell RoseMarie that I didn’t buy it. JFK Jr. wasn’t born yesterday. If she was telling me the full story, he didn’t owe Letterman anything. Despite my concerns, we agreed to John’s terms and decided to make the best of it by calling him our “mystery guest,” which turned out to be a pretty effective promotion.

I routinely worried about everything. As a producer, it came with the territory. In Debbie-Vickers-style, my colleagues and I used to say, “You’re only as good as your paranoia.” It comes off as negative, but you have to think that way in a world
where even small mistakes can lead to major consequences. In
this case my instincts turned out to be right,
but I’ll get to that later.

John had another stipulation: He was only available one day—May 14, 1998. This one put my stomach in knots because we had already booked Jerry Seinfeld that night as the lead guest, and he couldn’t be bumped. His appearance was scheduled on the same night as the very last episode of
Seinfeld
. I dreaded the thought of telling JFK Jr. he would have to follow Jerry. To most Hollywood elites, being offered the second guest spot was considered an insult. I had never talked with John, so I suggested to RoseMarie that she should probably be the one to discuss this with her boss. She said it would be better coming from me, and she didn’t seem that concerned. I was surprised, but I took it as a good sign.

When John called me for our pre-interview, he seemed excited about his upcoming guest spot. Then I took a deep breath and told him Jerry would be first out. There was a long pause—maybe the longest in my life. All I could think was:
Oh no, I’ve lost him. I’ve lost John Kennedy Jr
. Then he broke the silence: “Do you think I’m good enough to follow Jerry Seinfeld?” I wasn’t sure if he was serious. His voice sounded sincere. So I asked, “Are you kidding me?” He assured me he meant it. He didn’t understand why anyone would want to watch him after seeing Jerry reminisce about one of the most beloved shows in the history of television. RoseMarie had warned me he was a humble guy, but I never expected this.

I told him I was certain he would have at least three good stories that would hold the audience’s interest, such as his family background, his views on politics, and some of the great articles in
George.
He wasn’t convinced, but at least he did agree to do the show. Then he promised he would come up with some decent material so he wouldn’t embarrass himself. As if!

RoseMarie insisted John was not feigning modesty. Then she revealed something new: John had already agreed to appear on Letterman’s upcoming one thousandth episode as the featured guest with Pearl Jam in the second spot. But he was having second thoughts about being promoted as such a high-profile guest. Obviously, I didn’t know about the Letterman deal when I explained to John that he would be following Jerry. As I said earlier, I suspected something was amiss when RoseMarie insisted on no publicity.

Turns out she had just cancelled John’s booking on
Letterman
, and his producers were predictably upset, as I would have been. They would have been merciless with her and John, had they known JFK Jr.—the most celebrated resident in New York—was turning down their show to do Jay in Los Angeles.

The two shows were bitter rivals from the very beginning. Most of the hard feelings were coming from Letterman and his people, who never got over their resentment that David didn’t get the hosting job at
Tonight.
It didn’t matter to them that Jay was the number-one show in late night. They had constructed their own parallel universe in which David was a true comedic genius and Jay was lowbrow.

RoseMarie was wise to protect both John and herself from Letterman’s wrath at being upstaged by Jay. Letterman routinely badgered prospective guests on the air for not doing his show.

John called me three more times to discuss his interview, and each conversation was fairly lengthy. I spent more time on the phone with him than any other guest. I knocked off most pre-interviews in one phone call, lasting no more than a half hour, which I could have easily done with him. Yet he never thought his material was strong enough and felt he needed to keep working on it. Actually, his jokes and anecdotes were some of the best I had ever heard. I told him he was overthinking the segment and actually had too much
material. The big challenge would be deciding what to cut out.

RoseMarie told me years later that shortly before his scheduled appearance John informed her he didn’t want to go through with it. He asked her to “fall on [her] sword” and alert
The Tonight Show.
Her immediate reaction was,
Oh my God!
But she didn’t say it. She calmly suggested to him that he give it little more thought before making a decision. He took her advice and never brought it up again.

On the day of the show I felt confident John would “kill,” as they say in the business. He had prepared extensively for the segment, but he was still worried. He made the Sign of the Cross as he left the dressing room and headed for the studio.

When Jay finally introduced the “mystery guest” and John walked out on stage, the studio audience immediately shot to its feet and let out a thunderous applause. He was incredibly handsome, even by Hollywood standards, and women were screaming, including my wife and five of her friends, who were aware he would be coming out.

John
was visibly surprised by the raucous reception. I could
see him mouth the word
Wow!
When he sat down between Jay and Jerry, he admitted he was feeling overwhelmed: “I gotta tell you . . . my judgment in following Mr. Seinfeld on the biggest night in television . . . they always
tell you in politics you gotta watch who you follow, so I don’t
know what I was thinking.”

John had reminded me in our pre-interview that he was portrayed, but didn’t appear in, a hugely popular Emmy-winning Seinfeld episode in which Elaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) was smitten with him. He thought it might be a good topic with Jerry out there. He was right, but I think what he was really trying to do was take the spotlight off of himself and put it on Jerry. It didn’t work. Jerry was as interested in what John had to say as everyone else. When John said he had a tip for Jerry, he played along:

John: There’s this great s
o
up place. I don’t know if you’ve heard about it.

Jerry: No, I haven’t heard. How’s the service?

John: He’s kind of an ill-tempered guy.

Jerry: I’ll check it out.

John’s ode to the Soup Nazi got a huge laugh. Jay followed it with a question about the
Seinfeld
episode with “JFK Jr.” in it. Jerry excitedly pointed out how popular it was. John said he hadn’t seen the show when it aired. The next day as he was heading for his office, where he worked as a district attorney, he was causing a huge commotion, as people were yelling and honking their horns at him. He had no idea what was going on, but when he got to work, colleagues filled him in on the
Seinfeld
episode, which prepared him for what was about to happen:

John: I had a trial and I walked into court. The defendant is sitting over there, and he goes: “You were on
Seinfeld.
” And I said, “No, no, I wasn’t on
Seinfeld.
” And he leans over to his lawyer, and he says, “The guy’s an actor, too. No wonder he failed the bar exam.”

The studio audience loved it. Then Jay asked the question that was on everyone’s mind:

Jay: You’ve been around politics your whole life. Would you ever run for office?

John: Other than people asking me, “Were you ever on
Seinfeld
,” that was the second most-frequently asked question. Being an editor of a political magazine, you’re able to be in politics without really being in politics. It’s like being the vice president, I guess. [Huge audience response.] I have a great time doing that, and we all know politics is a tough profession these days, but I think a very rewarding one.

In fact, John had thought about getting into politics. He was approached about running for Senate against Hillary Clinton, but he declined. There was also some discussion about a possible gubernatorial run in New York, but RoseMarie told me what really intrigued John was the office of mayor of New York City.

Jay then asked John about a poem he published in
George.
It had been written by Monica Lewinsky when she was nine years old. It was his best story, even though he had strong misgivings about doing it, which he expressed to Jay: