It's So Hard To Type With A Gun In My Mouth (33 page)

The number ended and I remember feeling this pain deep inside. It was a yearning, a longing... a need to be doing what those kids on stage were doing. And, I experienced my very first depression. I sank into a low that took me weeks to get out of. Why? I wanted to be on stage.  Jeff had introduced me to the theater and I was hooked. I think it's why I loved stand-up so much. It was live, like theater... and... it makes perfect sense to me that when I stopped doing stand-up, I turned to the theater to vent my creative energy.  The biggest excitement I've had in 35 years is getting my plays produced.

OK, so I'm hooked on the theater. Jeff and I would go to the Saturday matinee of several more plays. One in particular was "DO RE MI" with Phil Silvers and Nancy Walker.  Being a comedy buff I adored Phil Silvers from his Sgt. Bilko days. And so I sat in the audience and drank in every minute of that show. And from that moment on, my frame of reference became Do Re Me. It was either before I saw Do Re Mi or after it.  When Nancy Walker was Rhoda's mother, I thought, "There's the lady from Do Re Mi". When I saw Nancy Walker in musicals from the 40's... "There's Phil Silver's wife from Do Re Mi".  Do Re Mi just struck a chord with me... oh fuck, a pun... somebody slap me.

FLASH CUT 35 years later

I'm sitting in Roddy McDowall's living room for an informal dinner with friends. Roddy was famous for his dinner parties and always a movie afterwards in his screening room. I was sitting in his living room and in walks Nancy Walker. Roddy says, "Steve, do you know Nancy?" and I say.... "Hamma, hammma, hammmaa, ha."  He shuffles her off quickly.

Must have been about a year later I'm turning onto the Ventura Freeway from Coldwater Canyon. There is a big maroon Rolls Royce in front of me and just as we pull onto the freeway a third car speeds up the ramp and forces the Rolls off the road. The Rolls crashes onto the embankment and the fender is crushed. The car that caused the accident jumps on the freeway and is gone.  I get out of my car and run over to the Rolls. I find Nancy Walker screaming in hysterics.  Her window is down and I calmly say, "Nancy, remember me? I'm a friend of Roddy McDowall's and I will stay here with you until the tow truck comes."  And she looked at me, with tears in her eyes, and said, "You have no idea what my week was like. Thank you. Thank you so much."  I remember thinking how fitting it was that I was able to repay this lady for so many years of enjoyment she had brought me.

Nancy and I talked while waiting for the tow truck. It finally came and she asked for my phone number and address. I gave it to her and we parted.  Soon a note arrived at my house with an invitation to lunch.  I accepted and in a week I was sitting in Nancy Walker's living room chit-chatting with my childhood Do Re Mi memory.  I asked her if she remembered me from Roddy's and she said, "The hamma hamma guy." We laughed.  And then I got to explain to her why I was so awe struck. 

She paused for a moment as if to collect HER memories. And she began to tell me all about Do Re Mi. "Phil Silvers wouldn't do it without me. Every day we were on the road he would cling to me like a child. I didn't want to do the show but Phil insisted."  And we chatted and chatted and chatted until lunch came. I learned every disgusting detail of Do Re Mi. I think it was the first time I was disenchanted with show business. The stories she told me were not pretty, stories about backbiting and feuds and horrific travel experiences on the road. The show had been the cornerstone of my memories; it had been a nightmare for her.

We stayed together another hour or so and then we parted... never to have lunch again. I told Roddy about my time with Nancy and he smiled. He was such a wonderful man.

How very strange my life is, so filled with contradictions and Forrest Gump moments, so exciting and mundane, so strange that a boy from a small town would have all these weird experiences and be able to retell them to you all.  But I wonder if my friends in the business would sit down and write their memories as compulsively as I have; I wonder if they would also report a strange life. I think the answer is  "yes". I think we're all the same, you the readers and us in show biz. We all have memories that affect us and leave us in wonder.  I think the difference is, I just know how to put them down in a book. The more we are different, folks, the more we are all the same.... And don't you forget it.

POST SCRIPT

Must be about ten years ago I got a call from my mother. "Jeffrey Glassman had committed suicide." And I remember thinking "That could have been me."  You see Jeff and his parents, while not divorced, were very much like my parents. They were over bearing, interested in money, clingy, unaware.  Jeff had grown up missing something. He married our mutual friend Sandy, they had two or three children but things were not going well in the marriage. Jeff, with no skills to cope, took the only way out he knew by jumping out of a window.  And I knew that if I had not left that small town with its oppressive atmosphere, I too would have had the same fate. I had to follow a dream and I did. I may not have become the star I thought I would be... but I had a good run.  Besides, I'm still here to complain about it. Right?

AUGUST 18, 2006
- LARUEN BACALL

My cousin Harvey was the one driving when I found my dog Crosby on the Cross Belt Parkway.  Harvey, in his youth, was a lady-killer. He must have had sixteen girls going at the same time. My Aunt couldn't keep the phones clear because all the girls were calling him. Unfortunately, in later life, he found it difficult.  But hey, in my family I'm just glad he wasn't a mass murderer that ate the bodies of his prom date.  However, I digress. One of Harvey's special girlfriends was Rhonda. I can remember sitting in my Aunt's kitchen hearing hours of conversations about Rhonda. My Aunt loved her; she was the only one of the harem she DID love. My Aunt was all, Rhonda said this and Rhonda said that. Rhonda was like a folk legend in my growing up years much like Paul Bunyan... Rhonda... Rhonda... Rhonda! I never met her.

Flash Cut: Thirty years later

I'm working the Improv in LA and I see this beautiful young woman sitting in the front row. After I get off stage she comes over to me. "I'm a casting director and I'd like you to come in for an interview" And she hands me her card... Rhonda Young. OK, you're way ahead of me. However, I did not make the connection that this could be the Rhonda from my cousin's screwing anything that walks days. I was totally focused on my career.

The next week I meet with Rhonda and she becomes my biggest fan. She tells me she's been watching me and she thinks I'm going to be big. (HA!) Seriously, she and Gary Weinberg of I.C.M. were personally responsible for sending me out on every casting call they could get my little olive skinned ass in on. She also told me I should write. (This is 30 years ago) I don't think of myself as a writer, I don't think of myself as anything. She's casting a show called  "THE LOHMAN AND BARKLEY" and she gets me hired as a writer on the show. My first real job. All the while I'm on the show she's the proud Momma. Yet, I'm telling her I'm no good, she's telling me how good I am and how much the show loves the material I'm submitting. She saved my ass on that job. I would have quit without her. 

Rhonda and I become friends and soon she's casting a movie called  "PERFECT GENTLEMEN" with Lauren Bacall. She calls me in to read for a part, it's a small part but still it's a part in a movie with Lauren Bacall. I meet with the director Jackie Cooper. Jackie was a child star and had a TV series in the mid fifties. I recognize him immediately. I do the reading, it takes six minutes, and I get the job. Rhonda has done it again.  I'm over the moon and thank Rhonda profusely. The movie shoots in six weeks. I have costume fittings and make up calls. I'm in the movies.

I get the Donna Summer and Barry Manilow gigs in Vegas and I have to fly into LA every day for meetings etc and do the shows at night. The movie shoots the day after I close with Donna Summer. I'm exhausted but I drag myself out of bed for the five a.m. call.  I drive myself to the location and crawl into my trailer. I'm sound asleep when there is a knock on the door... "Wardrobe! Come get your costume." The woman sticks her head in my trailer. "Get up!"  And I say, "Could you do me a favor, please? I just closed in Vegas last night and I'm exhausted. Could you bring the costume here?"  And this woman says, "I don't know who you think you are but I don't have time to wait on you! Get off your ass and get the costume."  Welcome to show business.

I get the costume and am told to report for make up. I go to the make up tent and Lauren Bacall is in the chair. "Good morning" I say to no reply. Bacall is holding make up in her hand and throwing it on the table. She's telling the girl this color is wrong and that color is wrong. She's sweet yet bitter. She's oppressively overbearing and pushy. The make up girl is applying make up, Bacall is taking it off and applying make up herself.  She's running the make up girl through the ringer and after an hour of this Bacall looks in the mirror and says, "That will have to do." And leaves. I have never seen this before and not since but the make up girl sat down and cried. She just sat there and bawled. She sees me  "What do you want?"  "I'm scheduled for make up." She checks her list and slaps some make up on me and leaves. No conversation. No chitchat. Nothing. Slam bam thank you Ma'am. Welcome to show business.

When shooting a movie it's hurry up and wait. And so I was in costume and make up at seven a.m., I wasn't called until 3 p.m. I was told NOT to sleep in my costume or get it wrinkled. I stood in my trailer while I waited. I knew I didn't deserve to be here and the make up and costume department have reassured me of that.  I just wanted to do my lines and not make waves. So, I stood.

I'm finally called to the set and Bacall is there. She is playing a gun toting, bank robber and I'm a bellman with a seriously bad attitude. I guess I'm a method actor because I got into character and didn't break it the entire time I was on the set. I was a sarcastic twit and Bacall loved it.  She talked to me in character and we made direct "fuck you" eye contact that was perfect for the characters. However, inside I'm a scared kid. I have never shot a movie in my life and I know I'm getting fired because I have no talent and I have no idea what I'm doing.

OK, so the camera starts to roll and we do one take. Bacall and I have locked eyes and we are not letting anyone or anything between us. We were deep into our characters. We do one take and Jackie asks me when I lift the empty bag to give it some weight. We do a second take. "Cut. Print. Let's move on." I'm feeling pretty good and I hear the cameraman say to Jackie, "His head was out of the shot." Jackie answers, not thinking I could hear "That putz."  And folks that's all I needed to hear. I literally fell apart. I started to shake and got shooting pains in my back from my heart pounding so badly.  I wanted to flee the set. I wanted to run and hide. My face became beet red; they needed to pat me down. The A D asked if I was OK. I nodded and they went on with the shot.

Jackie comes over to me. "Steve, when you enter the shot move to here. OK? You were out of the last shot." He couldn't have been nicer. But I KNOW what he actually thinks of me and I'm petrified. I don't know where I pull it from but I pull some strength from somewhere and when he shouts "Action" I hit my mark and say my lines. "Cut. Print." He looks at the cameraman, he nods "Let's move on."  And I'm done for the day.

One week later Gary, my agent, calls me. "You need to go back and re-shoot your scene." I wanted to die. My worst nightmare, they saw the dailies and realized I was so bad I needed to do it again. Gary assures me it was not my fault. I don't believe him. I call Rhonda. She tells me it's not my fault; they had technical problems with the camera. I don't believe her. Jackie Cooper calls me to apologize for the re-do. I don't believe him. The only one I believe is the little voice in my head that tells me I'm a piece of shit and this is my fault they are re-shooting.

The second day of shooting goes without a hitch. I'm in and out in five hours. I've earned a second day's salary so it's really a good thing. Now here's the best part. That effing movie played on TV for years and stills plays to this day. I made a effing fortune on that shitty little part and to this day I still get a residual check for those crappy few lines and my near fatal heart attack on the set.

Flash cut forward 20 years.

Rhonda and I are meeting socially. She's no longer a casting director and I'm now an established comedian on the road. We're chatting at a party and she happens to mention that she's from Boston. All the time I've known her I never knew this. "What city in Boston?" And she answers "Brookline."  "Really my cousin lived in Brookline." "What's his name?" "Harvey (last name)" And she looks at me like I just killed her dog. "You're Harvey's cousin. I dated him in high school." And then I put two and two together and say... "YOU'RE RHONDA!!!"  And we are amazed at the smallness of the universe.  How strange it is that people's lives touch.  We are just amazed that there must be some cosmic plan for us all to meet.

And, that's why I say to you, "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get."  In my case it was nervous diarrhea after working with Jackie Cooper.