Writers' torture: waiting for your script to be read

For a writer it never gets easier.

Waiting.

You’ve turned in your script to the producer/network/studio/agent/manager/professor/best friend.

And now you wait for the response.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

You’d think in time it gets easier. It never does.

You generally calculate in some reasonable reading time period. They’ll read it over the weekend. But you still think, if they were really interested they’d read it tonight. Why aren’t they reading it tonight?

The longer you receive no answer the more you think they hated your script. He just can’t bring himself to tell me how much it SUCKED! You start doubting the script, yourself, your religion, everything. You begin going through the script, re-examining every line. Jokes that just last week you thought were bulletproof now seem really lame.

Then you reach the point where you wonder, should you remind them? And if so, how? This depends on the relationship.

I would say this, try to find out what the reader’s behavior pattern is beforehand. It might save you a lot of time and anxiety. There are some producers who just don’t give you feedback. On a show we once worked on, we turned in our first draft and heard nothing. Weeks went by. The producers put our script into mimeo for the beginning of production and still said nothing. I was walking to the parking lot that night with one of the producers, and neurotic insecure writer that I am, I asked him what he thought of our script? He looked at me like I was crazy. His answer was “Well, we kept most of it, didn’t we?” From that day on I never expected feedback from any script we turned into him (which is good because we never received any). But we knew he was pleased so that was good enough.

I’ve known writers who thought they were getting fired at the end of the year only to get promoted. They had no idea where they stood. For some producers, that's their style.

On the other hand, there was Larry Gelbart. Here’s one of the many reasons I loved that man: You’d turn in a draft to Larry at the end of the day. Two hours later he would call you at home to tell you how much he liked the script. He understood the butterflies all writers experience waiting and went out of his way to be sensitive to that. When David Isaacs and I were running our own shows years later we adopted that same practice. If a writer turned in a draft we made the time to read it and respond right away. It’s how we liked being treated; it’s how we felt we should treat others.

All I could say is hang in there. And don’t build a “Jack story”.

What’s a “Jack story”? Well, it’s often attributed to comedian Danny Thomas and I’m paraphrasing but it goes something like this:

A guy’s driving down a country road late at night and gets a flat tire. He opens his trunk to discover he has a spare but not a jack. Up ahead he sees a light. There’s a house about a half-mile up the road. He decides to hike there and see if he can borrow a jack. He figures the owner of the house will gladly let him use it for a few minutes. Why wouldn’t he?

But as the guy trudges on he wonders -- maybe the homeowner won’t be so neighborly. After all, he is a stranger. Maybe he’ll be suspicious. Maybe he’s the kind who doesn’t like anyone touching his tools. He lives way out here in the middle of nowhere – he’s probably anti-social, probably a real asshole. The more the guy considers these options the angrier he gets until finally he reaches the house, rings the bell, the owner answers, and the guy says, “Screw you! I don’t need your fucking jack!” turns on his heel and marches off.

Your script is just as good if it’s read the first night or second week. So relax and have faith in yourself. Now, if I could just learn to believe that myself.

Opening Night -- My Oh My

Okay, this is kind of a personal one.  My account of opening day last Friday.  Might not be subject matter that interests you (in which case I invite you to click here for my other post today), but it held a lot of meaning for me so I thought I'd share it. 

Even though it was not my weekend to do play-by-play, I had to fly up to Seattle for the Mariners' home opener and Dave Niehaus tribute. Dave was the voice of the M's for 34 seasons -- a couple of them even winning. But the great thing about the city of Seattle -- they don't shoot the messenger; they exalt him. As well they should. Anyone can call a walk-off home run, but to make a game come alive and sound enthralling when you're losing 12-0 in the fourth inning, that takes an artist (or magician). Dave passed away last November at 75 and I'm one of his former partners brought back this year to keep the torch lit and give Rick Rizzs a break once in awhile (although he does get 10 seconds off every half hour during station breaks, so I don't know what the problem is).

Arrived Friday morning, took a shuttle, walked ten city blocks, weaved in and out of traffic, and finally made it to baggage claim at Sea-Tac airport. Lunch at F.X. McCrory's -- my favorite eatery in all of Seattle (Cheers with Dungeness crabs) then a long stroll back to my hotel where I encountered two guys at a table at the Safeco Field third base entrance. They were all alone; there wasn't a soul. I just naturally assumed they were two nuts passing out pamphlets for some screwball religious cult but in fact they were Bob & Groz, two sports talk hosts from our station (710 ESPN). They were broadcasting live, capturing the excitement of the fans arrival. Somebody should have told them the game wasn’t for seven more hours. They were nice enough to have me go on with them for a few minutes. I’d like to think it was because I’m a part of the Mariners’ broadcast team and not just cause I was the only one there.

Back to the hotel to get dressed for the game. Opening night requires an ensemble that is both dignified and elegant. Jacket, tie, and white shoes. Yes, white shoes. This was in honor of Dave, who always sported the uh ..."deck look". Hey, at least he didn't wear those loud "who shot the couch?" plaid jackets.

So I wore those white shoes proudly, happy to show the world I was a big fan of Dave Niehaus and  Miami Vice.

First ceremony was the unveiling of Dave's street sign on 1st Avenue. The corner was packed with adoring fans. Also present were members of the city council and the gentleman who wears 200 stuffed Mariner Moose. Dave's wife, Marilyn, surrounded by family members did the honors and a huge cheer erupted from the big crowd when we saw for the first time "Dave Niehaus Way South". I hope it's there for a hundred years. We'll all be gone but Jamie Moyer will still be pitching.

Then to Safeco Field, which was all decked out for opening night. You know it’s a special occasion when red-white-and blue bunting is festooned on the grandstands. For some American League parks that's the only bunting their fans will see all year. Went down to the field for batting practice. Reunited with all the players who didn't remember me from two weeks ago.

Caught up with my broadcast partners, also wearing spiffy white shoes. Dave Sims looked like Superfly and Rick Rizzs looked like the social director of a Carnival cruise. As a little feature for the game telecast, the three of us re-enacted the My Three Sons opening.

From there it was up to the booth to cover all the pomp and circumstance. Mariners Talk host, Matt Pittman and I described the scene on the radio. I thought we did well. If one of us was a woman I bet we'd be approached to host the Rose Parade.

The on-field tribute to Dave was tremendous. The Mariners did a spectacular job. A video montage on the Times Square-sized video board, complete with some play-by-play highlights had 47,000 people in tears. Local hip hop artist, McLemore has a YouTube hit honoring Dave and he performed it live. I’m sure if Dave were here he’d say it was off the hook, off the chain.

Dave's longtime colleagues Rick Rizzs, Kevin Cremin, and Ron Fairly unveiled a large sign of his name to be permanently displayed on the facade above the press box. As I’ve said many times, if Yankee Stadium is the House That Ruth Built then Safeco Field is the Haus that Nie Built.

Then the real killer moment when Dave's wife, children, and grandchildren all walked out to the mound. Marilyn, wearing a Mariner jersey with the number 77 (the first year of the franchise), threw out the first pitch to Cy Young winner, Felix Hernandez. We have much to thank Marilyn for. She and the family shared Dave with us for 34 years. That's a lot of missed school plays and birthday celebrations so we could hear the Veteran Spieler sing The Wabash Cannonball anytime the M’s were down by at least ten runs.

The crowd stood and cheered for a good fifteen minutes. And then, during the game, the absolute highlight, the coupe de ville, as Dave used to say (mocking a manager who once used that expression incorrectly), through the wonder of tape we got to hear Dave sing The Wabash Cannonball one more time on the air. My oh my! Thanks to the Mariners for giving up ten runs to Cleveland in the fourth inning.

I know I’ll never be able to forget that emotional, magical, special night. Just as I know I’ll never be able to get rid those white shoes.

I was a victim of Komedy Karma

It's a comedy staple and I've resorted to it many times. People trapped in an elevator. I've written scenes using that premise, directed scenes using that premise, and in improv class I've performed that scene almost as many times as "two people meet on a blind date".

Hey, it works. You can get two people together who otherwise wouldn't be and place them in a highly stressful situation that they can't escape and could lead to a complete emotional and physical breakdown. What could be more fun than that?

You got panic jokes, claustrophobia jokes, indigestion jokes (always a crowd pleaser!), trying to be stoic, pleading with God, and don't forget those million-dollar sight gags. Attempting to open elevator doors or climb through the ceiling. Throw in a pregnant woman going into labor and no air conditioning and you've got comedy GOLD my friend!!!

Bonus yucks: what embarrassing compromising situation do you find the trapped people in when they're finally rescued? In the middle of sex? Fetal position in the corner? Fist fight over the last Tic Tac? The options are limitless!

It's all a recipe for sheer hilarity...

Unless...

It happens to you.

Last Thursday night my wife and I were trapped in an elevator for a half hour. This was in a parking structure at the Santa Monica Promenade at about 9:00 pm. Us and this lovely family from Croatia.

I knew we were in trouble when we entered on the ground level and started going down. Then the car jerked to a stop and froze.

At first there's that moment when you don't believe it. Are we really stuck in an elevator? Doesn't that sort of thing only happen in cheesy Ken Levine sitcoms? Then everyone tries to be cool, especially since one of the passengers was a kid. (I wonder -- is there a Kubler-Ross equivalent to elevators??)

We rang the alarm bell and that accomplished nothing. Does it ever or is it there to just make you feel better? Look! I'm pressing a button! I'm DOING something!

There was also an emergency phone button. We hit that and after a few rings someone answered. I don't know who. Maybe they have a deal with On-Star or this is the same guy who takes your order when you call and buy Time-Life's 12,000 Golden Oldies collection for only $995 (and if you order before midnight they'll add 4,362 more oldies absolutely free!!). He took down the information and said he'd call us right back. When five minutes went by and he didn't, I called again. He was very reassuring. "So this is in the Embassy Suites, right? "NO! THE PARKING STRUCTURE!". (Step 3: Anger at idiots.) He promised to call us back.

Mr. Croatia was getting antsy.  He managed to open the interior doors, but they got stuck and then wouldn't close. I'm thinking -- that can't be good. He tried to open the steel outer doors and managed to part them two inches -- enough that we could see the small crowd of curiosity seekers that had gathered. I wanted to yell out, "This is not Chile!".

The parking attendant arrived and said the fire department was on the way. Ten minutes later they arrived, some lever was pulled and the doors opened. Now you'd expect cheering from the crowd, right? None. I actually think they were disappointed. We stepped out and that was that. A big thank you to the fire department and the attendant who also didn't charge us for parking. What a great way to save $2.00!  I'm still waiting to hear from On-Star-guy. I hope those people trapped in the Embassy Suites aren't still there.

The added irony is that our car was only one flight up.  But who can resist an elevator that's just closing?

So I guess it's Komedy Karma. Payback for all the elevator scenes I've milked laughs out of. But did I learn my lesson? Hey, I wrote this post,didn't I?

The real Komedy Karma however, came this weekend at the boxoffice.  Despite a huge publicity campaign that included TV ads in AMERICAN IDOL, the new ARTHUR was an absolute bomb.  I'd much rather be trapped in an elevator than get caught between that moon and New York City. 

BONUS POST later today. Am writing it now.

One more lost scene from the original ARTHUR

Hello from Seattle!  Thanks for your great response to yesterday's post.  Much better than paying money and seeing the current ARTHUR is reading a scene from the original ARTHUR.   I'm fortunate enough to have Steve Gordon's original draft.  It contains scenes that never made the final cut.  I posted one yesterday and I'm sharing another one now.  I'm sure the stuff that didn't make the first movie is better than anything that did make the newer version. Enjoy.  Part of the fun of having this blog is being able to share great writing, even if it’s not mine.

Remember when Linda shows up at Arthur’s engagement party and they go out to the stables? In this version after the party they go to the Plaza Hotel and end up here:

INT. HUGE ORNATE PLAZA HOTEL SUITE – NIGHT

Linda and Arthur enter the room.

LINDA
(looking around) Look at this room! It’s not easy to feel cheap here.

Arthur sits on the bed.

ARTHUR
You want something to drink? Or eat?

LINDA
No.

She walks to the window and looks out.

LINDA
New York…

ARTHUR
You were expecting Pittsburgh?

LINDA
I feel like we’re a young couple from the Midwest on our first trip to New York.

ARTHUR
(lying back on the bed) Come here.

Linda goes to the bed and lies next to him. He puts his arm around her. They lie like that for a beat.

LINDA
What are we waiting for?

ARTHUR
The other girl will be here in a minute. You didn’t think this was just going to be you and me, did you? You’ll like her.

Linda laughs.

LINDA
Why do I feel so comfortable with you?

ARTHUR
Because we are that couple from the Midwest. And we’re very nice people.

He kisses her. Light at first. Then it quickly turns to passion.

ARTHUR
(breathing heavily) You’re a nice girl… but you don’t turn me on physically.

LINDA
You’re not going to marry that girl. And you know it.

Arthur kisses her again.

ARTHUR
Let’s not talk anymore. Okay?

Linda starts to unbutton Arthur’s shirt. She kisses his chest. They are both very excited.

LINDA
(while kissing his chest) I know you’re not going to marry her.

ARTHUR
She’s talking. Linda… let’s not talk.

He rolls over and kisses her again. After the kiss:

LINDA
Let’s talk for a second…

ARTHUR
I’m having sex here! Do you mind?

LINDA
Why would you marry a woman you don’t love?

ARTHUR
I have to. Can I help you with that zipper?

LINDA
What do you mean… you have to?

ARTHUR
Linda… there’s not a shower in the world cold enough to fix what’s going on here. Now… could we talk about this later?

LINDA
Just tell me what you mean… you have to?

ARTHUR
My family is forcing me to marry her.

LINDA
You asshole! Nobody gets married like that! That hasn’t happened since 1850!

ARTHUR
They’ll cut me off if I don’t! Without a cent!

LINDA
So? You’ll get a job like everybody else. How much money is it?

ARTHUR
250 million dollars.

LINDA
Try it with her for a few years. Maybe it’ll work out.

ARTHUR
Linda… you see this suite? I have to be in suites like this.

LINDA
Why?

ARTHUR
Because… that’s who I am. I’m Arthur Bach. I’ve got nothing but the money. I don’t know who I am without it.

LINDA
You’re not Winston Churchill… I’ll tell you that.

ARTHUR
(touching her face) It took me years… all my life… to find you. Just don’t compete with the money. The money is like my arm. It comes with me.

LINDA
We’re not that nice young couple from the Midwest, are we? I’ll get a cab.

Linda crosses to the door. Arthur sits on the bed. She stops.

LINDA
You can’t have everything, Arthur. If you get the potato you don’t get a vegetable.

ARTHUR
Would you turn down this money?

LINDA
Are you crazy? Of course not! I steal ties for Christ sakes! But when you look for a mistress… make it a mistress! She should speak French and give back rubs. Don’t come to me. I want to get married. What do I know about being a mistress? You’d get me an apartment and I’d want to know if it’s near a good school.

ARTHUR
Goodbye, Linda.

LINDA
Don’t pout. You’re lovely. I’ll remember you the rest of my life.

Linda exits. Arthur goes to the bar and pours a drink.

CUT TO:

A lost scene from the original ARTHUR

With the remake of ARTHUR out this weekend (a movie I will never see) I thought it's a good time to re-introduce you to Steve Gordon (writer/director of the original and for my money still only version).  I wrote a bio post on him, which you can find here.   Steve Gordon’s ARTHUR is probably my single favorite comic screenplay. Believe it or not the first draft was 147 pages. (Do NOT try this at home, kids.) Steve was kind enough to give it to me.   At 147 pages there obviously were scenes that never saw the flickering light of the projector. But here’s one of those missing scenes. Don’t you wish you could write this well? I do.

When Arthur (Dudley Moore) goes to Linda’s (Liza Minelli) apartment after proposing to Susan:

INT. LINDA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT

It is a small room. Linda sits at the edge of the bed. Arthur paces.

ARTHUR
Nice. Really a nice place.

LINDA
I’m thrilled. A lush likes my furniture. Talk.

Arthur reaches for a yearbook that is on the table.

ARTHUR
Is this your yearbook?

Linda jumps off the bed and rips the yearbook out of Arthur’s hand.

LINDA
God damn it! I have to get up and go to work tomorrow! Now stop fooling around. What do you want? You want to see a funny picture?

ARTHUR
Yeah.

Linda flips through the book. They are close.

LINDA
This is me in the school play – I played Juliet. Martin Feinberg played Romeo. Look at the hair. God! Martin Feinberg became a lawyer.

ARTHUR
What did you become?

LINDA
I’m a waitress. I’m studying to be an actress.

She flips through the book.

ARTHUR
You want to be an actress?

LINDA
No, schmuck… I’m studying to be an actress because I want to be a carpenter. (in the book) Look at this! Me playing vollyball! This guy went to prison.

ARTHUR
Sure… he probably got a lawyer who wanted to play Romeo. Did you go with anyone?

LINDA
Not really. My mother was sick then. I came home from school and spent as much time with her as I… anyway… it wasn’t a good time. This girl here…Mona… used to get laid 20 times a week.

ARTHUR
She looks tired there.

LINDA
Where did you go to school?

ARTHUR
I went to eight prep schools. I was thrown out of all of them. I was real unhappy as a kid.

LINDA
With all your money?

ARTHUR
Yeah. I had a big house. But nobody wanted me in it.

Linda puts her hand on Arthur’s face.

LINDA
You’re a lovely man.

ARTHUR
Lovely?

LINDA
Don’t worry about it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever said to anyone. Why haven’t you called me?

ARTHUR
Uh… that’s why I came here tonight. I think about you all the time. I am so fond of you…

LINDA
If you’re breaking up with me… I think it’s only fair to tell you that we’ve never had a date.

ARTHUR
(smiling) I am breaking up with you. We were so good we didn’t need dates.

LINDA
Why don’t we see each other and then break up?

ARTHUR
Listen… there’s stuff. Let’s not get into it. I can’t see you. Remember that ring?

LINDA
I had a feeling about that ring… you don’t clean that… you guard it.

ARTHUR
I gave it to somebody tonight.

LINDA
My ring? So what are you doing here?

ARTHUR
I had to see you to tell you I can’t see you.

LINDA
Neither of us is crying. Everything’s okay. You are the strangest person in North America.

ARTHUR
Yeah. Well… goodbye. It would probably be a mistake for you to come to that party Wednesday.

He starts toward the door.

LINDA
Yeah.

He turns.

ARTHUR
It’s the best way. There’s a lot involved.

LINDA
Right.

Arthur kisses her on the lips.

ARTHUR
(after the kiss) Goodbye. I guess this is it.

He continues to hold her.

LINDA
You’re holding me and kissing me. In my bedroom. With what you drank… you may be clearing up my sinuses.

Arthur kisses her again.

ARTHUR
Let’s just say goodbye. This is silly.

He kisses her again. This time it grows into a passionate kiss.

LINDA
(after the kiss) How long ago did you get engaged?

ARTHUR
About four hours ago. Jesus… this is wonderful.

LINDA
Make sure you come by your honeymoon night. Let’s stop. I enjoy you… but there are certain rules.

ARTHUR
Right… Goodbye.

He exits.

In the actual movie this scene was rewirtten and is much shorter. He goes to her apartment to give her $100,000 guilt money which she doesn't take. (Great shot of her dad outside the door, practically dissolving into tears.)

By the way, in the first draft Linda is not Italian. She's Jewish. Davidorf is her original last name.

Friday questions: Inside dish on MASH and pilot advice

Heading up to Seattle for the Mariners’ home opener and tribute to my broadcast partner, Dave Niehaus. I found white shoes. Here are some Friday questions:

Tom gets us started with a question that relates back to Monday’s post.

Referring to vintage hairstyles got me thinking about something I always wondered while watching MASH: Was it a conscious decision especially in later seasons to have some characters (BJ and Hawkeye jump to mind) not even bother with 1950s hairstyles, while other characters (Potter...) did? I always figured it was either because the actors didn't want to get haircuts or because the show was trying to underscore being "really" about Vietnam, not Korea? Or some combination? Or some other reason? Thanks very much.


All readers: buy Ken's book, it's great.

Of course I had to leave that last sentence in.

The answer has more to do with vanity than anything else. Loretta Swit, in particular, wanted to look more glamorous. It is hard to ask an attractive woman to wear army fatigues and combat boots for eleven years while Mary Tyler Moore and Suzanne Sommers and every other lead actress is wearing million dollar wardrobes no sitcom character could ever afford. So Loretta began wearing her down long and tousled. And she began wearing tailored t-shirts with MASH stenciled on the front. There was no such thing in the 1950 U.S. army.

We chalked it up to “creative license”.

The only time it really bugged me was on the episode my partner, David Isaacs and I wrote called POINT OF VIEW. This was the episode seen through the eyes of a patient. At one point he’s on the operating table and Loretta puts the anesthesia mask on him. So her hand fills the screen. And you can see she has long fingernails under her surgical gloves. Now what army nurse in Korea or Earth for that matter, had long fingernails? And they were so prominent that it really stuck out to me.

Otherwise, we asked the audience to buy that eleven years of shows actually took place in 18 months so what the hell if an actress wears a designer army uniform?

Cappy asks:

After a pilot is taped, what is the next step? In other words, do the networks decide whether to air the pilot and/or order some more episodes or whether to order a whole season of episodes?

Once a pilot is taped, the first step is editing. Then comes the network and studio notes. The revised version is then sent off to be research tested by the studio. Based on those results, more changes are made. Finally, a finished (although not really) pilot is delivered to the network. They test it to within an inch of its life.

Then a group of network honchos screen and discuss their pilot slate. Based on the research, personal preference, schedule needs, politics, pre-existing commitments, the opinions of the executives' 12-year-old kids (I'm not kidding) – the network decides whether to pass on a project or go forward.

What does go forward mean? Practically anything. A network can pick a show up for the fall, or as a backup and can order six or twelve more episodes. They can also insist on recasting, or reshooting certain scenes.

And if the studio that produces the show is not owned by the network, then a license fee must be agreed upon. It seems that one or two pilots a season blow up because the studio and the network can’t make the license fee deal.

Think of your pilot as a beautiful bride. And as she walks down the aisle she’s pelted with a thousand paint balls coming from every direction. That’s what happens after the taping.

From Jose:

Ken, I was just curious, given your experience, if you suddenly had to whip up an all-new spec pilot to use as a writing sample, how long do you think it would take you?

I’m not a good example because I’ve been doing this since Lincoln was president so I’m much faster and proficient now then when I started during the Civil War. So don’t go by me. But once I have the idea and the outline I can write a pilot script in a week. However, when I started it was a month.

The bottom line:  TAKE AS LONG AS YOU NEED.

And finally -- Helen has a question.

I'm a British screenwriter working on an idea inspired by something which happened in New York and by a location there. As I live and write in the U.K., although I'm good at dialogue, do you think I'd have more chance of someone picking it up if I transferred it to the U.K.?

You’re probably much more comfortable writing British characters so I would shift the story to London. That’s if I could. If the story is about hijacking the Statue of Liberty, then yeah, maybe I’d keep the story in New York. Otherwise, it seems you have better command with British characters so that’s what I would do. Remember, it’s not just dialogue. It’s attitudes and thought processes. And if you’re not really sure how a New Yorker would act in a certain situation it’s going to be apparent on the page.  Write what you know.

What’s your question?? Go Mariners.

How to create a hit network drama

Fame and riches can be yours! Procedural/action dramas are in and you too can create one if you just follow these very simple steps:

Always start with a couple. He must be boyishly handsome and she must be smoking hot. You can go “mature” but then one has to be an established television star, and the other has to be a J. Crew model. In rare cases you can go “both mature” (CSI: NEW YORK) but then one has to be a former movie star and the other has to be an established television star who’s had a lot of work done. A LOT of work done.

In the (many) scenes that the couple is together there must be equal parts forced banter and equal parts technical gobbledeegook that no one can understand.

You must have three or four attractive yet quirky support characters. Their primary function is comic relief, paperwork, and shameless exposition. Every other line should begin with, “Bingo! It seems our suspect has three priors for assault, two for armed robbery, and one for libel.”

Each week our “team” must solve a baffling murder case. Guy shot with 300 year old bullet. Girl freezes to death in the Mojave Desert. Beverly Hills housewife found dead at Ross For Less.

Their headquarters must be sleek, state-of-the-art, something out of THE JETSONS. There must be windows galore. I thought I had seen it all when patient rooms were all glass on HOUSE (people could just walk by as the nurse was changing your bedpan), but this week BODY OF PROOF went them one better. Dana Delaney (established television star so network approved) performed an autopsy in a glass enclosed room with floor to ceiling windows to the outside along one wall. Folks can just stroll by, eating that Snickers bar from the vending machine as the coroner lays out and tags Jane Doe’s entrails. I’m waiting to see this trend extend to a sperm bank. “Okay, Mr. Johnson, you just go into that glass cubicle and fill up this cup.”

It’s sometimes best if your team has its own name. That way you can make up its responsibilities. “We only solve murders that were committed between 1987 and 2003.” “We only solve murders of rich people who live on estates that are no less than 65 acres.” “We only solve bite wound crimes.” To avoid audiences saying, “No agencies like that exist” you’re encouraged to just make up a name and assume

characters in your show all know it. The Mentalist works for CBI – the California Bureau of Investigation. They have jurisdiction over… I dunno, police forces or sheriff’s departments. Just wing it. When your lead confronts a suspect and says, “Halt! CBI!”, he’s allowed to be terrified and not say, “CBI? What the fuck is that?” Recently on HAWAII FIVE-O, McGarrett wanted to question someone we were told was a tourist from the mainland. The guy seems him and is immediately wary. McGarret says, “Wanna talk to you. I’m from Five-O.” Hearing "Five-O" the guy flees. A tourist is supposed to know what “Five-O” means? On the show itself they established it was a name they JUST MADE UP. And now it’s so famous, visitors from Dubuque know it. So just pick three letters. Or one number and one letter.

If your series is set in a lab it must have $5,000,000,000 worth of equipment, even if the lab is at a community college. If it’s a police station they must have computer capability to track anyone, break into any city grid, and retrieve information at a second’s notice. There must be surveillance cameras everywhere – jungles included.

Very early on, uncover a suspect who appears to all the world to be the killer. He hated the victim, it was his knife in the guy’s chest, there’s surveillance video showing him do it, he just got out of prison for committing the exact same murder with the exact same M.O. twenty years ago, and when they pick him up he’s in bed with the victim’s wife, reading the life insurance policy while banging her.

Big twist that no one can see coming: He is not the killer.

Suspect number two is discovered. The team finds him hanging out in some public place. The second they identify themselves as Five-O or Ice-9 or WTF he takes off. You must now have your obligatory chase scene. If your star is a “mature” you are allowed to have one of the support goons go after him. Usually there are some shots volleyed. Very exciting. The perp is tackled, handcuffed, dragged into HQ, and it turns out he’s not the guy either. Don’t worry that people are going to say, “Then why did he run?” It’s the only action in the show. They not only buy it, they’ve come to expect it.

So now you’re back to square one. Everyone is baffled. Your star says, “I don’t know. There’s something we’re missing.” A co-worker will walk by and say something innocuous like, “Anyone see my coffee mug?” And a light bulb will go on over the star’s head. “Mug! That’s it!” He uses that fragment to solve the case and lead us to the real killer. Now this is important. You must set up this killer by showing him early and establishing him as the least likely person in the entire world to do such a thing.  He's mending butterfly wings.  That way, when it turns out to be him it’s this major surprise – the shock ending no one ever could have predicted.

How do you ultimately explain the baffling murders? Any way you want to. The frozen guy was dumped off by an ice cream truck. The 300 year old bullet was sold by Larry King, who originally bought it when it was new.

You're still not done though. You must have the scene where the stars report back to the widow/mother/brother that they got the killer. Closure has been achieved. The star is hugged. He smiles. It’s all worth it.

But is he happy? Oh no. The last scene should be a beauty shot of the hero heading home alone at night. He comforts others but he himself is very lonely. A John Mayer song plays. Very moody. The camera pulls back (big crane shot), and you’re out. Not a dry seat in the house.

That’s it. Follow those rules and we'll see you next May at the upfronts.  I want shared creator credit.

Bravo's PREGNANT IN HEELS -- Oh my fucking God!

Rosie Pope

In my never ending quest to bring you the absolute worst, most appalling reality shows on television, I present PREGNANT IN HEELS on Bravo. Thanks to reader Matt for turning me on to this argument for why rich people are buffoons and shouldn’t be allowed to have matches much less children.

The show centers around Rosie Pope, a willowy opportunist who calls herself a “Maternity Concierge” to the “million dollar mamas” of New York’s Upper East Side. These rich sheep now have consultants for everything. I imagine these self-proclaimed experts are selected by which cable network their reality show is on.

Here’s Rosie Pope’s qualifications for guiding you through pregnancy and parenting: She’s a maternity clothes designer.

In last night’s premiere episode she handled two very difficult cases. Sarah & her probably gay husband, and power couple Samantha Ettus & Mitch. I’d say SPOILER ALERT but either you’re not going to watch this crap anyway or you are just to see if I’m really describing this accurately (I am).

Sarah and Jon live in a swank loft. She’s eight months along. Their problem is that they don’t want this baby to disrupt their lives in any way. Is there a social worker in the house??? Babies have been called little miracles and bundles of joy. Not before Sarah have I ever heard them referred to as life force sucking parasites. Seriously, Joan Crawford would flinch.

Sarah Dearest asks Rosie to design a nursery that doesn’t cramp their style, a nursery that “isn’t too…baby.” The kid’s due in three weeks. They’ve done virtually nothing to prepare.

And then there’s Samantha & Mitch. She’s a best-selling author and talk show guest, and he’s a big business success as evidenced by some Lucite award he once won. They’re having their third child. But they’re in serious crisis mode because they can’t seem to come up with the perfect “marquee” name for him. Samantha says, “We want our baby to have class surrounding their brand.”

For their first two children they compiled a list of names that major “thought leaders” had selected for their kids and debated over each one. That’s 12,000 names. 12,000 separate discussions. (Little wonder that Samantha has a blog called OBSESSED.) 

But that was very time consuming (life force sucking), so they’ve called upon Rosie Pope – the Lone Ranger of the Stupid Rich – to do the legwork for them for brand, I mean baby number three.

This is so much easier for Jews, by the way. Who’s a recent dead relative? That’s the name. Let’s eat.

Rosie takes Sarah and the lovely Mister shopping. Trying to teach Sarah how to fold up a baby stroller is like teaching a monkey how to be a Benihana chef. Rosie convinces her that she needs a baby toy in the crib and suggests this big pink stuffed teddy bear. Sarah is repulsed. The toy she selects: one wooden alphabet block. At least it wasn’t a wire hanger.

Rosie the Riveting assembles a “think tank” for Samantha & Mitch. Among the luminaries sitting around the conference table are Rosie’s fashion expert assistant L.T., (who looks and acts like Hollywood Montrose in MANNEQUIN but weirder... and with a hairstyle that can only be described as a mare's tail hanging down to his nose so his face really does look like a horses' ass). Sam & Mitch are horrified. Others on the panel include a linguistics expert, a baby name blogger, a poet, and some other woman – I have no idea what she does and it wasn’t worth hitting rewind.

Samantha spelled out some moniker guidelines. It must be easy to spell but not too popular. No decorative names, no names that start with J, E, or R, and no names that end with S. Also, no names that are only two letters. They tossed around names and settled on about ten.

Back at Sarah’s stylish flat, Rosie shows up with a therapist. She delicately confesses she has some “concerns” that perhaps Sarah’s baby might not be born into the most loving and nurturing of environments. I think her unstated real concern is that Sarah will sell the baby for a new iPad2.

Sarah, of course, is livid but after five minutes of whiz-bang therapy Sarah is completely turned around. Edited out was probably the part where the therapist hypnotized her with a shiny object.

Next we see that Rosie has arranged a Focus Group to whittle down the ten names. By now my jaw's on the floor.  Sam & Mitch are very excited and sit in the next room observing through the one-way mirror. Within minutes they’re calling the members of the Focus Group idiots. I would submit that the bigger idiots are the ones who commissioned them in the first place… and probably for a cost of about ten thousand dollars. That’s a lot of money to hear what strangers think of the name Tucker.

Rosie and L.T., her assistant (who RuPaul would say butch-up), go to Sarah’s apartment to set up the nursery. Sarah and her husband leave while the transformation is being done although I would have bet even money it would have been Sarah’s husband and L.T. who leave together.

Samantha & Mitch now have a dinner party of their snooty friends to narrow down the names even more. And who knew? They all have conflicting opinions. Poor Sam & Mitch. This being a parent thing is HARD!  By the way, Samantha also gives parenting advice on THE TODAY SHOW. 

Flash forward three weeks and both women are new mommies. Samantha & Mitch selected the name Bowen, which is the one name that everybody in every group hated. And Sarah & Jon are blissfully in love with their new baby – named Fox. Now they could have used a Focus Group.

PREGNANT IN HEELS. I look forward to the follow-up reality series – EASTSIDE RUNAWAYS.

Some random thoughts even though no one asked me.

What’s the difference between the CMA Awards and the ACM Awards?

Whatever happened to Bridget Fonda?

Congratulations to U. Conn for winning the worst NCAA Championship Game in history.  I'd watch 24 and Jack Bauer would be running, dodging thousands of bullets and I'd think -- nobody could shoot that badly.  And then I watched Butler.   

Big controversy: Natalie Portman did very little of her own dancing in BLACK SWAN. So says the ballerina who claims she did all the dancing and they just digitized Natalie’s head on her body. And they wanted her to keep quiet about it so it wouldn’t hurt Natalie’s Oscar chances. The film’s choreographer denies the charge. Of course, he’s the one who knocked up Natalie Portman. But this presents a bigger issue. The digitizing was so skillful that you couldn’t tell the difference. So why not employ that trickery with other movies? Why not remake every Arnold Schwarzenegger movie with Nathan Fillion’s head and performance?

On Saturday, Boston Red Sox pitcher Jon Lackey lost to the Texas Rangers. This was his postgame quote: "Well, I felt good out there. I really thought I threw the ball well, just a couple of seeing eye singles turned into outs and we're having a different conversation. This game could easily have gone either way". Lackey pitched 3 2/3 innings, gave up nine runs and ten hits including three doubles, two triples, and two home runs. Yeah, those seeing-eye 400 foot home runs can really kill ya.

Rock has Lady Gaga, Country has Lady Antebellum, and joggers have Lady Foot Locker.

I could see Donald Trump as our president. The Israelis want our support. The Palestinians want our support. Okay, a group of six from each side has to sell pizzas for twelve hours one day in Times Square. Whoever sells the most gets our aid and Titan missiles.

On Saturday the Colorado Rockies hosted the Arizona Diamondbacks.  It was 84 degrees.  Sunday's game was snowed out.  

Buy my book. (Notice how my plugs are getting shorter?)

Charlie Sheen got booed off the stage last weekend in Detroit. Largely because he was completely incoherent. Afterwards, of course, he took no responsibility. Chuck Lorre brainwashed the audience and if just a couple of those seeing-eye singles turned into outs it would have been a completely different performance.

Whoever becomes the next American Idol will not sell a third as many downloads as Rebecca Black's “Friday”.

IN TREATMENT might be back for another season on HBO but in a different format. No longer will Dr. Paul Weston (Gabriel Byrne) be conducting marathon therapy sessions. Without that I’m not sure what the show is. Dr. Weston solves crimes? Dr. Weston becomes the psychiatric advisor for a new Broadway show going up – SHUTTER ISLAND: THE MUSICAL and we get to see a lot of singing and dancing? Dr. Weston replaces Charlie Sheen on TWO AND A HALF MEN?

I’ll be helping out later this month on Phoef Sutton’s CBS pilot. Good luck to all the writer-creators of pilots currently in production. Three years ago a veteran comedy writer (not me, honest) helped out on a pilot, almost single-handedly turning it around – solving the story and providing inspired jokes. The show got picked up to series and the showrunner naturally wanted to hire this veteran writer. The network wouldn’t approve him.

DreamWorks is changing the release date of its animated feature, THE CROODS from March 1, 2013 to March 22, 2013. Damn! I had dinner plans on March 22,2013.

ESPN will be on hand for the Giants’ home opener. They specifically want to show the hoisting of the world championship flag. If I were the Giants I would have my announcer, Jon Miller, do the hoisting. Let ESPN show that. Jon, a spectacular broadcaster, was fired by ESPN after 21 years of service. And, for good measure, they did it the year he was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Meanwhile, I'll be up in Seattle for the Mariners' home opener this Friday night.  In honor of the M's beloved announcer Dave Niehaus who passed away last November, I'll be wearing white shoes.  Dave always wore white shoes.  Who the hell sells white shoes?   Is there a Superfly Men's Warehouse in LA anywhere?

Good news! Matthew Weiner has signed to do three more seasons of MAD MEN. That should take them to the early ‘70s when Sally sleeps with weird Glen for killing her mother.

And I'll leave you with this.

Should you keep a joke that only three people in America will get?

Comedy writing legend Jerry Belson once pitched a very obscure joke during a CHEERS rewrite. One of the Charles Brothers said, “Jerry, only three people in America are going to get that” to which Jerry said, “That’s good enough for me!”

A common question that all comedy writers ask from time to time is whether a particular reference is too obscure to get a laugh. The downside of course is that the joke bombs; the good side is that if it works it really works because the reference is so out of leftfield.

On MASH we called them “Three percenters”. We would make mention of an arcane actor from the ‘40s knowing most people would have no idea who he is (or was). But our thinking was this: a) we crammed so many jokes into an episode that if you didn’t get it, another one was coming two seconds later, b) we sprinkled in very few of these, and c) they added to the ambience and helped set the time period (much the same way as vintage wardrobe and hairstyles do).

I notice “Three percenters” from time to time on COMMUNITY. There will be quick pop culture references or lines of dialog from movies slipped in. Not everyone will get them. My sense is the producers know that and don’t care. They’re writing for a very specific audience. But here’s the key: specific but large.

Or at least large enough.  HOT IN CLEVELAND is designed for baby boomers.  TV LAND doesn't expect as large an audience as NBC but they do want a specific demographic.   And if you're 55 and have trouble with COMMUNITY and not get that an episode is spoofing RESERVOIR DOGS, you'll so welcome a show that makes a Twiggy joke.   

As always, it comes down to “know your target audience”. If you’re writing a spec it’s easier with an existing show. By watching astutely you can determine the level of their references. A Charlie Sheen joke might work on 30 ROCK but I wouldn’t do one on MIKE & MOLLY.

But what happens when you’re writing a pilot?  All bets are off.  Now there are no guidelines. Should you do that Sarah Clarke/TWILIGHT gag?   In general I would say this: agents, managers, executives – the people who will be reading your pilot – are by and large in their thirties. I think that gives you a lot of leeway – way more than you had when they were all in their forties and fifties. They probably know who Sarah Clarke is and they certainly know what TWILIGHT is.  So I wouldn’t self-censor yourself too much. Yes, you always run the risk that a reader might not get a reference and feel you’re belittling them (doing a joke that’s over their head), and to load your script with obtuse gags is insane, but comedy is about taking chances. So go for it. Maybe Jerry Belson was right. If the three people that get the joke are agents you’re submitting to, that is good enough for you.

Netflix Pick of the month: IRON GIANT

As a kid I used to love animated movies. Of course, in those days that primarily meant Disney… with the occasional full-length Mr. Magoo. That all changed when I had kids. After THE LITTLE MERMAID seemed to revive the genre there was a glut of animated features and I schlepped my kids to see many a RAINBOW BRIGHT and LAST UNICORN. They better not say bad things about me to their therapists EVER!!

Now it takes Pixar, great reviews, or the assurance that Jerry Seinfeld will not be involved to get me in to see a ninety-minute cartoon.

There is one animated film I always heard was great but never got around to seeing. (Okay, I’ll be honest, I never made the effort.) Recently “Ken’s Damn Friend” was praising it, even offering to lend me the DVD. I noticed it was on HBO this week so I set my Tivo. All I can say is “Wow!”

If you haven’t seen THE IRON GIANT you’ve got to check it out. Released in 1999 by Warner Brothers, it was directed by Brad Bird (of THE INCREDIBLES and RATATOUILLE fame) and is as smart, funny, and poignant as his other brilliant features.

Set in 1957 at the height of the Cold War, paranoia, and bad black-and-white science fiction movie craze (scaring the shit out of kids for a total budget of $11.95 per film), THE IRON GIANT tells the deceptively simple story of a giant robot that lands on earth from outer space and is befriended by a little boy. It’s ET, meets SUPERMAN RETURNS meets THE TRANSFORMERS but without the treacle of the first, the Jesus theme of the second, and Michael Bay of the third. Along the way there are the usual great little Brad Bird attention-to-detail touches (like “Duck and Cover” films, the old Maypo cereal commercial, and the kid even looks like Howdy Doody).

You may be saying, “Well, if it’s so good why wasn’t it a big hit?” Because there’s something more frightening than Commies or aliens – the Warner Brothers marketing department. Instead of promoting this gem of a film, the WB marketing idiots put all their time, effort, and money into launching WILD WILD WEST (and we all know how terrific THAT film was).

THE IRON GIANT received a lot of awards, great reviews, even greater exit polls and quickly disappeared. Fortunately Brad Bird has been able to find other work.

IRON GIANT. It brings new meaning to “heavy metal”.

My idiot comment of the week

And of course it's from Anonymous.  Wow.  He sure put me in my place!


screw u. Just another media wannnabee loser. If you want to succeed lose the tired old memes. But you won't cause you are a liberal loser. Go hang out on CNN or worse yet MSNBC where you will never be seen again.

International Marketing fiascos.

In making reference earlier in the week to marketing disasters, I came across some famous campaign slogans and names that didn’t translate all that well to foreign markets. Check these out.

Chevy Nova did not sell well in South and Central America. “No va” means “it doesn’t go” in Spanish.

Coors had a translation problem with their “Turn It Loose” campaign. In Spanish it means “Suffer From Diarrhea”.  Although that could just be truth in advertising.

The Spanish language was no friend to chicken czar Frank Perdue. His slogan, "It takes a strong man to make a tender chicken" translated to "it takes an aroused man to make a chicken affectionate."

More Spanish: When Parker Pen introduced a ball-point pen in Mexico, its ads were supposed to have read, "It won't leak in your pocket and embarrass you." The ads really read: "It won't leak in your pocket and make you pregnant!"

“Mist” is slang for “manure” in German. So Clairol’s “Mist Stick” didn’t have the desired effect.

In China, Pepsi's "Come Alive With the Pepsi Generation" translated into "Pepsi Brings Your Ancestors Back From the Grave”. And it’s refreshing!

Finally,  this was my favorite: When Gerber started selling baby food in Africa, they used the same packaging as in the US, with that cute baby on the label. Trouble is, in Africa, companies routinely put pictures on the labels of what's inside, since many people can't read. Yum!!

Me on the radio acting insane in 1976

An aircheck of me as Beaver Cleaver on B100 San Diego from 1976 is playing now (11-12 EDT) and again from 11-12 PDT on GreatBigRadio.com.   Thanks to Howard Hoffman and Rob Frankel.  So stagger back to 1976 for better boogie.

My year living with Candice Bergan

Picture I took of Candace Bergen in our backyard

Here are some Friday Questions.

Fanboy69 gets us started.

How did you break into movies after writing for television?

Dumb luck. Steven Spielberg saw an episode of THE JEFFERSONS my partner and I wrote and thought it was the best written half-hour he had ever seen. Needless to say, we were SHOCKED. He arranged a meeting and asked if we had any ideas for a movie. I had always wanted to write something based on an uncle of mine who pretty much led a double life. Stevie liked the idea so David and I created Indiana Jones and wrote RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARC. That led to VOLUNTEERS which led to MANNEQUIN.

Lyn B. wants to know:

Of all the actresses you have known, who’s your favorite?

Professionally? I’d have to say Nancy Travis. Personally – and this was before my marriage – I had a fling with Candice Bergan. We lived together for about a year. This was in the late ‘60s/early ‘70s. What can I say? Both our fathers were ventriloquists and we both loved sex.

Anonymous asks (note: please leave your name):

I’ve written three scripts that I’m really proud of. I feel they’re good enough that I can submit them to agents. I suppose I should include a cover letter. What I don't know is what should I say in the cover letter?

Yes, you definitely should include a cover letter. And you need to grab his attention. I would say this:

Dear (whoever),

I’m seeking representation and am submitting three scripts. But I’ll be honest. I’m not yet sold on you. As you’ll see once you’ve read my material (and by the way, you have 48 hours), I will be your meal ticket. As such, I don’t like the idea of competing with other clients for your time. I require 100% commitment and attention. This might mean you have to let a few clients go. So be it. Talent trumps loyalty. I look forward to your campaign to try to sign me.

He'll remember you, that's for sure!  Best of luck.  

And finally, from Georgia Peach:

I bought your book, WHERE THE HELL AM I? TRIPS I HAVE SURVIVED and I literally can’t stop laughing. OMG!   If I get a heart attack it’s your fault. My question is: are you going to be in Atlanta any time soon to have a book signing?

Thanks, Georgia for the nice words. To be honest, I don’t really need to go out on a book tour. I’ve sold 250,000 copies on the internet just this month. Happy to say, it’s the biggest selling travel humor book in history. Meanwhile, I’m currently number three on Amazon’s Best-Selling Non-Fiction list and number four on the New York Times. I’ve been approached to go on Oprah, which is HUGE, so I’m concentrating on that for the moment. There is, unbelievably, a Ken Levine fan club and they’ve begun emailing update newsletters three times weekly. So sign up for that and you’ll be the first to know when I finally do go out on a book tour.

What’s your question? Have a nice weekend and a great April 1st.

What's the frequency, Kenneth? Radio ramblings

Some thoughts on that medium that everyone says is obsolete but listens to anyway…

KGIL, an AM station in the San Fernando Valley is changing its format from “Standards” (i.e. Sinatra and maybe one Peggy Lee record a week) to “Classical”. With all the technology and improved fidelity these days, who’s going to listen to Classical Music on AM? That’s like watching AVATAR on 16 mm.

Morning Zoos are not funny. PARKS & RECREATION did a great bit a couple of weeks ago lampooning your typical Morning Zoo. Two obnoxious idiots doing four hours of fart jokes every day. That kid in high school who mimicked the girl with epilepsy was funnier.

Best syndicated all-night show: Red Eye Radio with Doug McIntyre. Hopefully he’s in your market. The man can talk on any subject. He’s a cross between a 5-time JEOPARDY champion and Jean Shepherd.  Especially knowledgeable in history, jazz, and SHE'S THE SHERIFF. 

What’s the big complaint people have about terrestrial radio? That they play too many commercials. So why do most stations continue to program 18 minutes of them? That’s suicide. Why not limit your spot load to 12 minutes and just charge more? It always kills me that music stations spend so much time on research and so much money on promotions and then just chase away their audience with a relentless bombardment of commercials.

Several years ago the geniuses who ran radio stations determined that the “Oldies” format was dead. Now that People Meters are used to determine ratings and not unreliable diaries, it turns out that “Oldies” is the most popular format of all. It’s that kind of thinking that has led us to Crystal Pepsi, rabbit Jerky, four-track tapes, and Budweiser’s tomato and clam juice beer -- the Chelada.

Oh, and while we’re on the subject of radio visionaries, can we finally admit that HD Radio was a fucking bust? That was supposed to be the savior. Do you know one person who has an HD radio? Have you ever even seen an HD radio?   It's right up there with Betamax and the CBS Color Wheel.

Wanna know the future? It’s not satellite. Satellite’s contribution is making Howard Stern a billionaire. And I bet with all his money, even he isn’t shelling out $14.95 a month to hear the same songs he’s got programmed on his Pandora station.

When consumers are able to easily access internet radio in their cars, then the station you run out off an old Dell computer in your closet will be just as valuable as that terrestrial station that Clear Channel paid $30,000,000 for. More valuable because you won’t play18 God awful minutes of commercials.

Speaking of internet radio – I don’t know whether to plug this or disavow any knowledge – but Great Big Radio tomorrow night will be playing an hour recording of me as Beaver Cleaver on B100 San Diego from 1976. It’s a wonder I wasn’t led off in a straightjacket after this show. It airs at 11:00 PM EDT and then again at 11:00 PM PDT.

And I can’t plug internet oldies without a shout-out to Richbroradio.com.  Imagine hearing a Roy Orbison song that isn’t Pretty Woman.

Baseball season begins tonight. Baseball is a sport that’s best described on radio. A good announcer can transport you to a different world. Television assaults you with “whooshes!”, replays, and close ups of coaches spitting tobacco. There are many excellent hometown team baseball announcers. May I recommend a few? Vin Scully of the Dodgers, Jon Miller of the Giants, Howie Rose of the Mets, Marty Brennaman of the Reds, Eric Nadel of the Rangers, Ted Leitner of the Padres, Bob Uecker of the Brewers, Dave & Andy of the Rays, and my excellent broadcast partner – Rick Rizzs of the Mariners.

A rising talk radio star: John Phillips on KABC Los Angeles.

Every radio market has a KISS-FM. Every one, at this exact moment, is playing the same Lady Gaga song.

In his never-ending quest to be Ryan Seacrest, Carson Daly now also has a morning radio show. Wouldn’t it be great if Ryan ever comes out and Carson has to break it to Siri Pinter that he now likes guys?

Glenn Beck’s radio ratings are plummeting. There is a God! May he suffer the same fate as the JACK format.

And finally, a blast from the past: This is classic DICK VAN DYKE SHOW featuring radio. Rob Petrie is a small town disc jockey looking to set a world record as the D.J. who stays awake on the air the longest. Hilarity and brilliant physical comedy ensues. 

Mariah Carey's "miracle" pregnancy

Thank God for the internet! Otherwise, how could we keep up with the minute to minute updates on Mariah Carey’s pregnancy?   Can I ask a question?

Who the fuck cares?!

I can’t open a news page without some new screaming headline regarding Mariah Carey’s motherly way. She’s having contractions! EXTRA EXTRA! She’s been admitted to the hospital! BULLETIN! She’s not having contractions! OH NO!! She’s been released from the hospital.

Currently we’re at that stage where expert analysts discuss the difference between contractions and indigestion.

There are a million photos of Mariah’s extended belly. Some even taken during her pregnancy.

We know they will be twins, one boy and one girl. I’m sure her sonograms can be found on line. I would not be surprised if there was a webcam inserted right up the delivery canal. And maybe Mary Hart.

What’s the big deal? If Charlie Sheen were pregnant I wouldn’t expect this much coverage. This isn’t the holy Madonna, this isn’t even the trashy Madonna. There’s no “first” here.  Women have been delivering children the exact same way long before "Dream Lover" ever became a hit. 


Obviously, a lot of people do care. Otherwise, Mariah wouldn’t get this amount of attention. I just don’t know who those people are, or why? Mariah tries to downplay it. She’s not looking for publicity she claims. And then she goes and body paints her stomach – an obvious ploy for attention.

I wish her, her family, and her new babies all the good health and happiness in the world. It’s just that, when it comes to Mariah Carey’s reproduction endeavors, my curiosity and need to watch does not extend all the way till the blessed birth of her twins. It ends one second after conception.

Dancing with the Stars

With Kirstie Alley competing on DANCING WITH THE STARS, I had to revisit the show. First off, she’s way better than John Ratzenberger.

Here are my other thoughts:

Elizabeth Taylor was a STAR. I wouldn’t qualify a wrestler, football player, DJ, swimsuit model, talk show host, Disney Channel actress, rapper, ex-boxer, Karate Kid, diet spokesperson, and sex tape exhibitionist as a “star”. The show’s real title should be DANCING WITH THE FAMOUS FOR SOMETHING AT ONE TIME PEOPLE.

To me the only legitimate “star” of the show is the person whose name you hear every week but ignore – Harold Wheeler, the music director. Forget the dancing; listen to the songs and their arrangements. They’re always great.

I still feel DANCING WITH THE STARS is just AMERICAN IDOL with feet. The host is a little smirkier, the judges more goofy, but it’s the same format. They perform, the judges prattle, you vote.

As a viewer, I couldn’t possibly begin to critique any of the actual dancing. Twyla Tharp could coach me from now until the Messiah comes and I couldn’t do a three-minute jive number. So my hat’s off to all the performers on DWTFFSAOTP.

But I do like some better than others. Viewers are surprised by how good Kirstie Alley is. I’m not. Having worked with her for years I was well aware with how graceful she is. George Lopez, maybe the unfunniest human being in the galaxy, recently called her a Dancing Pig. In addition to it not being true, there’s nothing remotely clever about it. “What’s a good metaphor for being fat that no one’s ever used before? I know. A pig.” How does this man have a career?

Note to Disney Channel stalwart Chelsea Kane: An “out-of-the-box” dance means different, not dressing like a mime. Still, I liked her better than the judges did.

I also gave Sugar Ray Leonard higher marks than the panel of poodles. The look on his face as they were panning him was priceless. Big smile but his eyes were clearly saying, “I could beat the living shit out of you and stick those number fans so far up your ass you could open your mouth and the 6 would appear.”

Let’s just skip Wendy Williams because the second I see her on the screen or hear her voice I hit fast forward.

The big galut wrestler, Chris Jericho won me over – not so much for his dancing but for his sense of humor. Asking fop judge Len if his testicles were okay was certainly a highlight of the night.

Romeo is a sensational hoofer. And all the scenes of him rehearsing shirtless should get him many Tallulah Morehead votes.

Ralph Macchio not only can dance, he has now officially replaced Dick Clark as America’s Oldest Teenager.

Pittsburgh Steeler, Hines Ward was also impressive. Light on his feet and graceful. Judge Bruno almost threw his house key onto the stage. 

I love how the judges told Petra Nemcova she was at a disadvantage doing the Jive because her legs were so long. Poor Petra. Some people just don’t get any breaks when it comes to the gene pool. “I…am…not…an…animal!”?

Backstage Brooke Burke is quite the penetrating interviewer. After the DJ, who I had never heard of but must be associated with Dr. Drew because he was in the audience (either that or Dr. Drew was just recruiting for CELEBRITY REHAB), received horrible grades from the judges, Brooke asked him, “Were you hoping for a better score?” No. Of course not. I was hoping to suck on national television. I think Brooke is ready to host the Oscar Red Carpet show with Sam Rubin.

And finally, we get to Kendra Wilkinson, whose last screen appearance was giving a blowjob on numerous porn sites. She almost had a meltdown because her dance required her to act like “a lady” this week. The pressure of that drove her literally to tears.  She's finding it very hard to dance since she can't keep her legs in the air. 

My last thought: the women professional dancers always look so much hotter during the casual rehearsal scenes. Natural and beautiful. Then for the show they get overly made-up and all look like David Bowie.

DWTFFSAOTP does have its moments. And I’m rooting for Kirstie Alley. Next year I hope they get George Lopez to be a contestant. Let’s see how well he glides across the dance floor. And I’m sure Kirstie won’t stoop to his level by calling him a “clumsy cow”.

Razing Arizona -- my week in the desert

Back from a week in Arizona for spring training where I made my broadcasting debut for the Mariners. Came fully prepared. Scouting reports, team media guides, citizenship papers in case I got too tan. If you can get past Arizona’s blatant racial profiling and shooting rampages, it really is lovely in the spring.

Phoenix airport car renters beware: Allow yourself and entire extra day. The rental car agencies used to be located right next to the terminal. Now they’ve moved to the only-slightly-less-convenient Arizona-New Mexico border.

Prior to my stay the skies had been clear and temperatures up into the 80s. I arrived just in time for ferocious winds, a huge rainstorm, and temps in the 50s. My baseball prep on Monday consisted of seeing LIMITLESS.

Stayed in Peoria, near the Mariners’ complex. When the M’s first opened their state-of-the-art facility in the early ‘90s there was nothing out there but tumbleweeds. Now there’s Hooters, homes, and Home Depots as far as the eye can see. The Seattle Mariners are the pied pipers of commercial development.

Did my first game at the new complex shared by the Arizona Diamondbacks and Colorado Rockies in Scottsdale. Salt River Fields at Talking Stick. It’s on an Indian reservation adjacent to a large casino. So fans can see current major league players and Pete Rose.

The Diamondbacks should play regular season games there in April. It’s far nicer than that airplane hanger they play in normally. Sure, it only seats 11,000 but how many people do they get for the Pittsburgh Pirates anyway?

The second you cross into Scottsdale from anywhere in Phoenix it becomes green. Not hard to figure out where the money is. And water.

This is all you need to know about Arizona: From the Arizona Republic on Friday -- Measures to allow firearms in public buildings as well as on public roads and sidewalks around college campuses advanced to the Legislature Thursday. This, I’m sure, is to accommodate big game hunters because you never know when you might encounter a deer in a post office or student union.

Everything in this town is a franchise. I wouldn’t be surprised if Phoenix is really just a branch of Albuquerque set in the desert.

But that’s not to say tradition isn’t important. Had breakfast one morning at the Corner Bakery. It proudly proclaims: Established 2009.

Last weekend was the annual Phoenix BBQ Festival. Why not hold it in August? You wouldn’t even have to light up the grills.

Lady Gaga was in town. Or was that Chief Wahoo, the Cleveland Indians’ mascot?

Billboards all over town offered cremations for $586.25. What’s the twenty-five cents for? Matches?

And a 99 Cent store in Peoria was going out of business. Prices slashed! With the pennies you save you can now afford that cremation!

Saturday was the best and worst day for me. First off, my rental car wouldn’t unlock. I had a Mariners game to announce so needed to get to the Brewers’ park in Maryvale, which, like everything else in Phoenix, is 13.2 miles away. My friend Howard, who was in town on vacation, offered to give me a lift. But he was delayed due to some police activity that diverted him five miles in the wrong direction. I got to the park only to learn that my rental car wouldn’t start because I was trying to open the wrong car. Yes, I’m an idiot.

But it was also the best day because Bob Uecker was in the park. Bob Uecker has many titles. “The Voice of the Brewers”, “Mr. Baseball”, “Former star of MR. BELVEDERE and MAJOR LEAGUE”, “National Treasure”. For all the brilliant comedy writers I’ve known through the years, Bob is funnier than 99% of them. Last year Bob underwent three major surgeries. Some of the complications, he admitted, were because he performed them himself. So it was a joy to see him back, spry and as hilarious as ever.

Like anyone who goes to Arizona, I went to a Phoenix Coyotes NHL hockey game. They play in the ridiculously named Jobing.com arena. Nice venue but of course, freezing due to the ice rink. Apparently the team is not doing well and there is fear it may relocate. I know how to keep them in the desert forever. Hold their home games in the summer.

The Delta terminal at SkyHarbor airport was surprisingly empty for the last Sunday night of spring training. Guns are not allowed of course, and it was really a shame because a herd of antelope was roaming the newsstand.

The Delta plane was a CRJ700. Imagine being in an MRI tube for an hour.

Thanks to everyone for a great week. All Mariners travelogues this year are dedicated to the memory of Dave Niehaus – the Elizabeth Taylor of broadcasters.

Note:  My book of previous travelogues, WHERE THE HELL AM I?  TRIPS I HAVE SURVIVED is available for Kindle users, Nook-nicks, other ebook formats, and in glorious paperbackt.  Yes, I know it's shameless but it's not like they're letting me on THE TODAY SHOW to plug the damn thing.