Check out our new, exclusive interview with Brady Variety Hour's "Fake Jan," actress-singer Geri Reischl. Geri reveals she may have sacked at least one of her Brady brothers had the ill-fated 1977 variety show survived for a second season.
"If the series would have been renewed and there would have been an opportunity to 'exude sex,' I would have jumped on it in a heartbeat," Geri tells us. "That would have made a great memory for later, don't you think?"
Five of TV's Eight is Enough kids struggled with substance abuse, two suffered mental breakdowns, one is fighting ovarian cancer and one paid the ultimate price in the years after their show’s demise in 1981. Here are updates on all eight:
Grant Goodeve (David), 57, is an actor, musician and host of the Seattle-based series Northwest Backwoods. A recovering alcoholic, he found God and sobriety in 2001. Goodeve enjoyed a stint from 1990-92 on the hit drama Northern Exposure. He currently stars in a radio-play version of It's a Wonderful Lifein Seattle and will appear in the upcoming film Crimes of the Past.
Lani O’Grady (Mary), suffered anxiety attacks while on the show. She died of a prescription drug overdose at age 46 in 2001. "I have a real hard time with people who have been successful in this business as young children . . . and [as adults] they are no longer wanted by Hollywood—and, yeah, Hollywood is not a user-friendly place," she told an interviewer in 1994. "But rather than accepting responsibility for their life, it's easier to say, 'The business is the reason I'm so messed up today.' I hate that."
Dianne Kay (Nancy), 55, is a mom who quit acting in 1999 after a guest appearance on Dick Van Dyke's hit series Diagnosis Murder. She lives in California. According to Internet reports, during a 1998 appearance on Jenny Jones' talk show, Kay said she dabbled in interior design and antiques. Also that year, she played the role of a waitress in the feature film Falling Sky.
Connie Newton-Needham (Elizabeth), 50, was diagnosed this year with ovarian cancer. The ballet dancer and mom of two is on leave from her work as a dance instructor in Santa Margarita, Calif. According to the National Enquirer, she's found emotional support in her cancer battle from co-stars Goodeve, Dick Van Patten and Willie Aames. In 1995, she played a waitress in the "Gladiators" episode of Ellen.
Susan Richardson (Susan), 57, became a cocaine addict in a desperate effort to drop 90 lb. she had gained while pregnant during the show's fourth season. A tailbone injury later led to a morphine addiction. In the late 1980s, she claimed filmmakers in Korea held her hostage and tried to kill her. She suffered a nervous breakdown in 1999. In recent years, she has enjoyed healthier times while working as a retirement home caretaker in Pennsylvania.
Adam Rich (Nicholas), 41, seems to have put years of drug problems and run-ins with the law (including a 2003 DUI) behind him. In 1996, he participated in a Might magazine cover story spoofing his death. In 2003, he played himself in the feature film Dickie Roberts: Former Child Star. Adam also has taught classes to young actors at the prestigious Beverly Hills Sound Stage. He lives in Santa Monica.
Willie Aames (Tommy), 49, went from Charles in Charge co-star and cocaine user in the '80s to born-again Bibleman in the '90s and celebreality TV staple in recent years. In 2008, he filed for bankruptcy, separated from his wife (with whom he co-authored the book Grace is Enough) and attempted suicide. In March 2009, he sold the contents of his home to avoid a foreclosure. The VH1 special Broke & Famous: Willie Aames chronicled his troubles last month. He's now working to become a licensed financial adviser.
By Chris Mann Retroality.TV Editor
Look up the word "wholesome" in the dictionary and you'll see a picture of Dick Van Patten. Whether helping a troubled Eight is Enough kid or encouraging hungry puppies by eating his line of Natural Balance dog food, the TV father figure's familiar image reassures us he's still serving up hearty goodness.
Van Patten, who turned 81 on Dec. 9, shares his eight decades as an actor, family man and TV octodad in his delightful new memoir Eighty is Not Enough: One Actor's Journey Through American Entertainment (Phoenix Books), co-authored by Robert Baer.
The lighthearted book reads like a who's who of New York stage and Hollywood screen, detailing Van Patten's successes and struggles as a Depression-era child model-turned-Broadway child star who grew up, thanks to his uber-attentive mother-turned-manager, working with acting legends such as Tallulah Bankhead and Fredric March while hanging out with the likes of James Dean and Kirk Douglas.
In 1949, the industrious Van Patten moved to TV land, playing the winsome son in one of America's premiere live sitcoms, I Remember Mama, whose audience surged as America went from 3.5 million to 60 million TV sets during its nine-year run. In 1977, he landed his pop culture-defining role as Tom Bradford, the kindly dad of eight who never forgot to leave a plate of homemade wishes on the kitchen window sill.
The ever-spry actor, who's recovered from a stroke in 2008, inspires readers with his trademark—and still fully-intact—upbeat attitude in this biography. He doesn't shy away, though, from briefly discussing the storied and, in one tragic case, fatal troubles of his Eight is Enough children (see sidebar) or acknowledging the less-than-rosy child-star memories of his sister, actress Joyce Van Patten.
He also offers poignant memories of the late Farrah Fawcett and actress Diana Hyland, who portrayed his TV wife before quickly succumbing to cancer less than two weeks after Eight premiered in spring 1977. The actor and his wife of 55 years, Pat, were with Hyland and her considerably younger lover, John Travolta, when Hyland died. (Actress Betty Buckley joined the show in season two as Bradford step mom Abby; her acting and singing talents later won her critical raves and a Tony on Broadway.)
Despite the sadness he's experienced, Van Patten emerges as a grateful and gracious everyman whose soft-spoken optimism and genuine persona promise to keep him going decades beyond eighty.
I was quite amazed at your history—from child modeling to Broadway to live TV and film. You’ve done it all.
Oh, yeah, I’ve been around a long time. (Laughs.)
And yet I, like most of America, grew up watching you on Eight is Enough.
I was on another series before you were even born. It was on for nine years, live very Friday night, called I Remember Mama. It was one of the very first sitcoms, from 1949 to 1958. I was a kid actor. It was nice working on Eight is Enough because I was surrounded by kid actors. And they went through everything I went through on I Remember Mama.
You had two big hits—that’s a rarity in television.
When I read the script for Eight is Enough, I didn’t think it would be a hit. I thought it was just like Father Knows Best. So I was surprised and happy when it took off.
And it survived and thrived, despite Diana Hyland’s death—let’s discuss that in a bit—and the substance problems of about half of the Bradford kids. Were you aware of the drug abuse behind the scenes?
No. I had no idea about any of that. Maybe it’s better that I didn’t. Things went very smoothly on the set … There was a real bond between me and the Eight is Enough kids. I used to tell (them), “This is as good as it gets. Sit back and enjoy it because it’s not gonna get any better.”
Which kids do you keep in touch with? You bailed Adam Rich out of jail in 1991—and I understand you’ve been a father figure to him and others.
Adam Rich calls me all the time. And also I’m the godfather of Susan Richardson’s girl. (Susan’s) in Philadelphia, so I don’t see her at all. She’s doing alright [Richardson suffered a nervous breakdown in 1999 and in recent years has worked a a retirement home caregiver in Pennsylvania.]… Connie Newton and Laurie Walters, I still keep in touch with them; I went to Laurie’s wedding. Of course, Lani O’Grady is dead now. It’s so sad.
Lani really struggled with drug and mental health issues. Did you keep up with her?
I did. She’d call me or I’d call her every couple of months. (Pause.) I’m still very much in touch with Dianne Kay.
I had a crush on her as a kid.
I don’t blame you. She was the prettiest of them all.
A few of your TV kids became teen magazine pin-ups.
Yeah. I go up to Seattle every once and a while and see Grant Goodeve. He’s a lovely guy. He’s got three kids and he does a local show up there called Northwest Backwoods. He’s the commentator.
Willie Aames has not been so lucky—he’s fallen on hard times again.
I don’t hear from him much. But I heard that he’s broke now and selling the stuff in his house. I don’t even know how to get in touch with him. It hasn’t been a good life (for him).
You fell on hard times after Mama.
That was about from ’59 to ’67. When I Remember Mama went off the air in 1958, all of a sudden I couldn’t get any work. I was too identified with that show, I guess. So I did go into other things like real estate, and I did very well. Then all of a sudden Elaine May put me in a play called Adaptation/Next and then she sent me out here with it and I never went back to New York. I started getting all sorts of work again out here. That was the only slump I fell into.
What advice would you give Willie if you connected with him?
I’d tell him to make his work as an actor the most important thing and not let anything else interfere. Forget all that–it’s nonsense.
TV’s a pretty tough market for actors now, given reality TV. Now instead of Eight is Enough we get Jon and Kate Plus Eight.
I can’t stand all of that reality stuff, that improvisation. I can spot it in a minute. Good scriptwriting and doing your writers’ lines—that’s what I think is great. I don’t go for all of that improvising; I never did. The actor’s lines are the important thing. (In reality TV), they try to act like it’s so real. But it isn’t. It comes off as very artificial. It’s not real.
Do you think his fate is a product of the times? You came from an era—
A more wholesome era, yeah.
But also an era when people valued money after the Depression. And people valued their opportunities during War World II …
That’s a good way to put it. That’s right. I don’t think it was just Hollywood (that changed), I think it was society in general. Things changed.
If you could go back to 1977, have a crystal ball and find out that at least four of your eight TV kids were gonna have really hard times, in retrospect, is there any advice you’d have given them to keep them on the right track?
(I would tell them) I’d get a high on working. I didn’t need to anything else to get high on. I’d tell them that’s what you get your high from—from working, from getting jobs, winning auditions and beating out other kids on the auditions.
A major turning point for you, certainly as a comic actor, came when you landed the role of the son in O Mistress Mine—a part you got over Marlon Brando and Roddy McDowell. How did your O Mistress Mine parents, actors Alfred Lunt and his wife, Lynn Fontanne, change your life?
I was with them for four years and they were almost like parents to me. I lived with them on their farm up in Genesee Depot, Wisc., for about three weeks. They were a big influence on me. I got very good reviews playing their son. There were about 90 kids up for the part, and they narrowed it down to me, Roddy and Marlon. I beat them out at the last (minute). (Laughs). When it closed in 1949, I went right in to I Remember Mama. It prepared me.
Looking back, how did you manage not to be overwhelmed and get a little cocky growing up on stage and screen?
I knew nothing else. I had a real stage mother—I owe everything to her. She got me in a Broadway play when I was seven years old. And it just seemed like the natural thing (for me) to do. I didn’t know anything else.
You credit your mother so much in your book. Yet she was a complicated woman.
So many times when you hear the term “stage mother,” they say it like it’s a dirty word. On the contrary, I owe everything to my mother. In tennis, Serena Williams owes everything to her father. Tiger Woods owes everything to his father; he had him out on a golf course when he was seven years old. I figure it’s a terrific thing when a mother helps her son. If it hadn’t been for my mother, I’d probably be a bellhop. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a bellhop … But it’s been a great life and I’ve met the most interesting people and traveled all over the world.
But you’ve got an exceptional attitude—you saw gigs as a child as opportunities that you didn’t take for granted.
My mother and father used to tell me, “You’re only as popular as the show that you’re on, so don’t let it go to your head.” It’s so true. It’s the show that made you popular. And I had that in my mind all the time; I had smart parents.
We all know what happened when stars such as Suzanne Somers forgot that maxim. And, ironically, Eight is Enough premiered on the same night—March 15, 1977—as Three’s Company.
That’s right! I forgot that!
Some of your earliest career advice came in a rather unexpected way from the sexy Tallulah Bankhead in her—aptly titled—Skin of Our Teeth dressing room on Broadway.
She invited me to her dressing room—and she was stark naked. I was 14 years old. I’d never seen a woman naked before. It was sort of exciting for a little kid. I kept saying my line wrong so she’d keep calling me back to her dressing room.
She mentions me in her book. She said, “I never liked child actors. The only child actor I ever liked was Dickie Van Patten, because he could read the racing forms.”
They give Katherine Hepburn credit as the first woman to wear slacks. It’s not true. Tallulah Bankhead wore slacks before Katherine Hepburn. That was 1942, and she wore slacks every day.
So Tallulah was a pioneer in more than one way.
Yes. (Laughs.) And she loved baseball. She was a fanatic about the New York Giants.
What advice did she give you?
Here’s what happened. I was offered the (lead) role in Tomorrow the World, but I would’ve had to leave The Skin of Our Teeth. She said to me, “Don’t leave a hit to take a chance on some other show.” It turns out she was wrong because Tomorrow the World was a big hit also. Skippy Homeier played the part. And my sister did the play.
You and your sister certainly did some major plays—and so many of them war-themed. Heavy material about the big issues of our times. How did this shape you?
It was a great education. It really was. I just did what I was told. I’d go from one play to another. One play would close and they’d get me into another one. It was crazy.
Of course, you were an old pro by age 10. In the midst of the Depression you were make $5 an hour as a child model. Did you ever feel exploited—or that you had a responsibility as a breadwinner?
I never felt that way. I just felt that this is what I was supposed to do.
Your attitude is reminiscent of Ron Howard’s.
Oh, I’m a big fan of Ron Howard’s.
How is your sister doing? Has she made peace with her life as a child actor?
My sister just did twelve weeks in Boston in a movie (Grown Ups) with Adam Sandler and Chris Rock. It’s a big, big movie. So she’s doing very well. Every play that Neil Simon did on Broadway he had my sister in it.
For better or worse, your mother was a real go-getter. She was your manager?
Yes, she was. She was stage-struck. She loved the theater. My mother and father went to a play in 1928 when they were just married. It was called Showboat. Every since then, she was a fanatic about (theater). About four years ago I did Showboat in Chicago. It all came full circle.
I love the story in your book about your mom traveling cross country to L.A. to hit up Stan Laurel after he sent her a letter saying you had a promising future.
I’ve got to tell you one thing that’s not in the book. About a month ago I was at the race track and someone said, “Stan Laurel’s daughter is coming tomorrow. Why don’t you bring that letter and show it to her?” So when I met her I showed her the letter he sent to my mother. She got a big kick out of it.
Ultimately, you and your mom decided that New York was your town.
Now I’m out in California, and I love it, but I still feel like a New Yorker.
You’ve done just about every major play out there.
And worked with so many important directors, too. Every major stage director I worked for: George Kaplan, Moss Hart, Max Reinhardt, Joshua Logan, Elia Kazan.
Your book reads like a Who’s Who in Hollywood—from hanging out with James Dean to watching women hang out with Kirk Douglas at a burlesque bar.
Jimmy Dean was like my flunkie! He used to follow me all over. He’d get me a pack of cigarettes. I used to play poker and he’d sit behind me and watch me play all night.
For the generations that view you as a genteel father-type, do you think people will be surprised to learn you were rather, um, adventuresome in your youth?
That’s putting it mildly. Yes. (Laughs.) The one thing I had in common with (Tom Bradford) is I’m very family-oriented. I have a great family, and that comes first. Same way it was with the father on Eight is Enough.
Your dad left your family when you were 14. That must’ve been tough for you.
I felt sorry for my mother. She wanted my father to come back—she was still in love with him. He met somebody else, and I always feel my mother never liked anybody else (romantically). It’s so sad.
Then you become the ultimate TV dad of the ultimate idyllic family on Eight. Yet the show was fraught with tragedy off camera—starting with Diana Hyland’s sad death from cancer after filming the fourth episode.
When she passed away, I never thought the show would be a hit. I sort of went, “That’s the end of the show.” Yet they wrote it into the show and it worked out fine. Diana was going to marry John Travolta. That was definitely true. We were with her when she died.
I had done another show with her, a soap opera called Young Doctor Malone. So we’d worked together for about two years in New York. I knew her pretty well.
She didn’t know she was sick until the second or third week of filming Eight?
Well, that’s what she said. But I sort of think she knew it but didn’t want to lose a job. Before you do a TV series, they have you go through a physical at the doctor. But the doctor just never picked up that she had cancer.
How did her death affect you and your TV kids?
We were all very, very upset. Diana was a nice girl, and we got very close those few weeks that we worked together. The kids took it very hard.
Eight’s step mom Betty Buckley went on, of course, to become a huge Broadway star. And she wrote a lovely endorsement of you and your book for your back cover.
She lives in Texas now on a ranch. It was very nice of her to write that. It’s funny: She wanted to sing on the show and they never would let her. I bet they’re kicking themselves now. She’s an amazing singer. She won the Tony.
Sadly, thirty-two years after Diana Hyland’s death, you lost your friend Farrah Fawcett to cancer.
Yes. Farrah was my wife’s best friend … My son Vincent was on a show called Apple’s Way. He was 16 years old and supposed to fall in love with a woman 24 years old. Farrah Fawcett had done these commercials and they hired her for the part. My wife had to go to the set every day with my son. So while she was on the set my wife and Farrah became very friendly. Later on, we all played tennis together.
What made her so special as a person and as a performer?
Well, first of all, Farrah was very, very smart. She wasn’t just so bimbo or some blonde—she was really intelligent. I think that helped a lot. She was such good company and just a great girl.
Were you with Farrah in her final weeks?
I wasn’t but my wife was. She went up to see her about every week.
You even have a Michael Jackson connection.
The funny thing is we lived next door to the Jacksons. My wife became very friendly with Michael. He was so nice to her. He loved to help her out—clean the house and everything … For Michael and Farrah to die on the same day was weird. My wife lost two close friends on the same day.
You were hanging out with Hollywood hotshots even back in your teens.
I had the same dressing room with Kirk Douglas. Kiss and Tell in 1944 was his first Broadway play. Then when I was in The Skin of Our Teeth I had the same dressing room as Monty Clift. This was before he became a big superstar. Whoever I shared a dressing room with would become big stars. (Laughs.)
You and Kirk share the same birthday.
We were both born on December 9. We’re exactly 12 years apart. I have the same birthday as Donny Osmond, Redd Foxx and Kirk Douglas.
You and Kirk also have survived similar health challenges.
I had a stroke about a year ago. But I’m okay now.
Eighty clearly is not enough for you. What do you want to do between 80 and 90?
I’m not sure but I want to keep working. I also have that (line of) dog food now, Dick Van Patten’s Natural Balance. I like to help animals. We give away dog food to different animal charities.
And you still go to the track?
I do. I have a couple of racehorses.
Can we expect another Eight is Enough reunion?
They don’t even have the shows on DVD! That surprises me. (So) there won’t be a reunion.
The show has certainly survived in the U.S. vernacular—
People come up to me every day and say, “I grew up with you.” And then Obama’s 2007 speech: “Eight is enough.” (The crowd chanted,) “Eight is enough! Eight is enough!” I couldn’t believe it. He was smiling when he said it. It was so cute.
I hate this phrase. They are not dead to me and a ton of people in my generation who grew up with good ones. I always say they are very much alive to me but they just got a lot smaller. I have been building miniature sitcom sets since the early '90s and now have let the world look at them for the first time.
Some might say this is a strange hobby and ask, "How on earth did this come about?" Well, to me it's never been a strange hobby but just something I did in my spare time that I really loved. I went onto the Cheers soundstage as a youngster on vacation with my family in Hollywood and that did it.
Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name.
Everything I saw was familiar to a point but also brand new, and since I could not take photos, I burned everything into my brain and came home and reconstructed the whole thing. I wanted to build not only the set I saw on TV but really wanted to concentrate on all the "junk" that the TV viewer never gets to see. The lights, cables, cameras, microphone booms, script tables, back staircases, etc. Then I built another set of another show and so on and so on.
Classic television was a major part of my childhood and this book is years' worth of blood, sweat and tears neatly packaged for you to enjoy. It really was a labor of love looking high and low for materials to use since I built everything from scratch.
Nowadays I have moved on to other hobbies and interests but am always game to pop in a DVD of my favorite '70s or '80s sitcom to relax. As for building additional sets, I am enjoying my retirement but who knows? One day I might sail on the Love Boat or visit with Mary Tyler Moore and Rhoda.
Come and dance on our floor, take a step that is new!
We're running a bit behind schedule this month but have lots of fun forthcoming. Retroality.TV's December features include:
• An exclusive interview with iconic TV dad Dick Van Patten, who spills on his amazing new book, Eighty Is Not Enough, as well as his former TV kids (including the troubled Willie Aames), late, great '70s icon and family friend Farrah Fawcett and the sad state of reality television (Jon and Kate Plus Eight is Enough!)
• A look at the TV remake craze—including plans to update Charlie's Angels
• Retro books for the holidays
• Guest blog from Charles Brogdon, author of the fantastic new book On the Set: Famous Hollywood Studio Sets in Miniature
GUEST SHOT By Suzanne Sumner Ferry Author, Corinna the Christmas Elf
Yukon Cornelius has nothin’ on me! At least I hope not. I have searched high and low in my mind for an interesting, fresh as a just-baked Christmas sugar cookie take on a holiday classic character. You see, as a writer, I am fully aware that it has all been done “to infinity and beyond”… so the trick is to create a story or character that has a fresh twist on a classic.
I recently wrote and published my first children’s book titled Corinna the Christmas Elf: A Christmas Story. Having been raised with the nickname “Chrissy, a.k.a. Christmas Snow” (my maiden name is Suzanne Sumner; need I say more?), I have always been obsessed with this spiritual, glittery, festive and magical time of year. Put a steamy mug of hot cocoa and a peppermint stick on my bedside table and I’m as happy as a clam. This is a fact, regardless that my dear fraternal grandmother was of Jewish origin.
So I must first thank my father, who converted to Catholicism, for my lust of all things Christmas. I had no way to escape it, not a chance, during my Catholic upbringing. In fact, my fondest childhood memories spawn from painfully early Christmas morning treks, clad in fuzzy footed PJ’s, to the fireplace, where I would dive into overloaded stockings hung with care. And ne’er did I find a lump of coal, mind you.
Being a Holiday-a-holic (and a new mother), I just had to make my mark by writing a new children’s Christmas story. Yet I was finding it impossible to fix what ain’t broken. Thus, I eventually pulled all of my old frosty faves out of the deep, dark recesses of my mind and got to work.
We all have our dear old holiday loyalties from childhood that will never go away. I think the best way I can describe how I came up with my children’s book concept, besides the initial inspiration from my mother, who used to sign her Christmas packages “from Corinna the Christmas Elf,” was to take those candy-cane romances, misfit toys and all, and mold them into my own, fresh take on a holiday character.
And so I came up with an independent, young and ambitious elf girl named Corinna (thanks, Mom) who has just been promoted to Senior Elf Factory Manager by Santa himself. Corinna has very special skills and loves all things electrical, which proves to come in very handy at the end of a long work day in the Elfin Toy Factory.
I created Corinna the Christmas Elf out of love, and out of the desire to empower young children, especially little girls, with the knowledge that they can accomplish ANYTHING they put their minds to. All it takes is hard work, perseverance, a spark of interest, and belief in oneself. Calculated risks can get you everywhere; never taking a risk (within reason) will get you very little. Goals for the future, a strong work ethic, and being brave are all good qualities to have. These are only a few of the messages I leave my young readers with after they embark on a sleigh ride through the Elfin Toy Factory with Corinna and her coworkers. (Insert Shameless Plug Here: Did I mention that my book is available at amazon.com, borders.com, barnesandnoble.com or tatepublishing.com?)
So my ode to all you wonderful predecessors is quite lengthy, but I must, out of loyalty, pay you my utmost respect in helping me create Corinna the Christmas Elf, because there is a little bit of all of you in her:
• To Yukon Cornelius, for your fearlessness in taking down the Abominable Snowman
• To Hermey the Misfit Elf, because you decided to do what made you the happiest and most inspired: pulling teeth
• To Rudolph and your shiny red honker, for taking a special and unique quality about yourself and shedding a positive light on it (no pun intended)
• To Charlie-in-the-Box, for never giving up hope
• To the Bumble aka The Abominable Snowman of the North, for trusting someone (Hermey the Misfit Dentist) enough to let him help you by pulling your teeth and then staying dedicated and grateful to him
• To Frosty himself, for braving the elements to help others and make young children happy
• To Cindy Lou Who for your innocence and trust coupled with your immense wisdom
• To The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, for giving it back and making it better than ever
• To Ebenezer Scrooge, who was taught a valuable lesson about giving and helping others and ended up embodying the true spirit and meaning of Christmas after a few romps in the graveyard
• To Tiny Tim for your courage and faith while facing death, and for giving Ebenezer a second chance
And finally, to my own mother. who has always shared my love and lust for all things Christmas … from the shiny aluminum star on the top of her tree to the countless cherubic figurines on her bookshelves … and to all, a good night!
Iron Heart: The True Story of How I Came Back From the Dead by Brian Boyle is a triumphant story of one young man’s struggle to come back from the brink of death. After he had a horrific car crash, Brian shocked and amazed the medical community and his family by his stunning recovery. By all accounts he should be dead, all of his organs were shifted inside his body, including his heart, bones broken, and he was in a coma for months.
Somehow, he had the strength inside himself not only to survive, but to be able to rehabilitate himself to the point that he could compete in a world class event, the Ironman. The amazing fact that he could come back and swim, bike, and run the Ironman triathlon is almost beyond comprehension. Anyone who reads this first-person account will be inspired by his strength and courage.
As I was reading Iron Heart, I was considering if I'd want to have my husband “pull the plug” automatically if I ever end up on a ventilator. Brian Boyle’s harrowing account of his time in a coma from a severe car accident chilled me to the bone. During his coma Brian was clearly in and out of consciousness, he could see and hear but not communicate.
It brings to mind the Terri Schiavo case, where she was suspended in a coma from 1990 until her death in 2005. She was not on a ventilator, but instead on a feeding tube that provided nutrition and hydration. I wonder if she was suspended in a limbo, wanting to communicate, having thoughts and emotions, just like Brian had. No one will ever know.
Her husband fought in the courts for the option to end her life, stating that Terri would never want to live incapacitated, and that she said she would never want to live on life support. After a long, contested trial between her husband and the rest of her family, the courts ruled that her feeding tube could be removed. Terri starved to death after FOURTEEN days. I wonder if there ever could have been some sort of breakthrough for her, some kind of ability to blink commands or SOMETHING. It is a frightening thought.
My heart stirred when I read this book. In fact, I am reading it aloud to my 8-year-old daughter and 10-year-old son. They can’t get enough of it. When we pick it up to read, my daughter’s comments are “Oh, it’s so sad” and my son says, “I know he comes through in the end!” I feel that this book is universal in its appeal, and is definitely worth checking out.
Excited to share my cover story on Laila Ali in the Winter 2009 issue of Get Active! magazine. http://tinyurl.com/yz7s9pk
Also, check out my cover story profile on the women's boxing and reality TV champ in last month's issue of the fitness industry magazine Club Business International.
MTV personality and Remote Control host Ken Ober has sadly died on Nov. 15, apparently due to natural causes, at age 52. Retroality's friend Ted Nichelson shares this with us that Ken visited him and Love to Love You Bradys co-author Susan Olsen at a booksigning on Oct. 17.
Says Ted, "He was a good friend of Susan's (as demonstrated in the You Tube video linked below) and we were so impressed he came out to support us. Ken and Susan hosted a radio talk show in the 90's on Los Angeles station 97.1 FM called Ober and Olsen. We never dreamed he would be gone so soon. Susan said she is grateful to have seen him one final time. We don't know the cause of his death at this time."
Suzanne Somers has a number-one book. And all hell is breaking loose.
For good reason. The media-savvy, self-branding celebrity poet-turned-actress/entertainer-turned-author/entrepreneur-turned-home shopping mogul/ThighMaster millionaire-turned-alternative health guru’s latest tome, Knockout, boldly cold-cocks chemotherapy while promoting controversial treatments and doctors claiming to cure this year’s biggest celebrity killer: cancer. This dreaded, virulent scourge is expected to claim 562,340 American lives—famous and non-famous—in 2009.
In recent months, cancer has achieved an unusually high media profile, tragically claiming the lives of the iconic Farrah Fawcett, Patrick Swayze, Ted Kennedy, Ed McMahon, Bea Arthur, Dom Deluise and Dominick Dunne. One of its latest famous victims was Larry Gelbart, the Emmy-winning M*A*S*H writer/producer who in 1976 penned the first (jiggle-free) pilot of the ABC series that—on the heels of Farrah Fawcett-Majors-dom in 1977—would make Somers a self-merchandising poster girl and boob-tube superstar: Three’s Company.
Writes Somers, “After all the billions and billions of dollars thrown at cancer research, after all the marches for cancer by well-meaning women raising yet more money for pharmaceutical companies and after all the black-tie fundraisers … There is no cure! Only more and more money for the pharmaceutical companies to the tune of $200 billion a year!” Counters Posner, “Cancer is a recurring thread and marketing tool for her wide-ranging business interests … To many cancer experts interviewed by The Daily Beast, (Knockout’s promotion of bioidentical hormones as cancer ‘wonder drugs’) now makes Somers extremely dangerous. A flawed decision won’t lead to a lower sex drive or body aches. It will lead to death.”
Most of Posner’s quote eerily echoes the late John Ritter’s emotional words spoken to me in spring 2001 shortly after TV’s former Chrissy Snow revealed to Larry King (and the world) that she had breast cancer and eschewed chemo in favor of injecting the herb Iscador. The bestselling diet book author took to King’s show several days after The National Enquirer caught her coming out of a liposuction clinic—weeks before her third “Somersize” book, Eat, Cheat and Melt the Fat Away (!), was due to hit stores. Legit press picked up the scandal, which comedians dubbed “ThighGate.” In a move that stupefied and likely pissed off the medical community, an uncharacteristically fidgety, nose-scratching, hesitant and inarticulate Somers nervously claimed to King that she’d had lipo strictly to “even out” the disfiguring effects of radiation and a lumpectomy.
Days after her revelation, I met Ritter backstage at his Neil Simon-written Broadway play The Dinner Party. He was not a happy camper. Two weeks prior he’d poked fun of his once-beloved yet famously-long-estranged co-star’s lipo scandal when he reteamed with Three’s Company roomie Joyce DeWitt for a CBS Early Show “Retro Reunion” segment (Somers declined to participate). During the interview, John grabbed a Chrissy Snow doll, pressed its midsection to his mouth and joked that he’d given it “lip-osuction.” Joyce, the female host and off-camera crew guffawed. Suzanne, not so much.
Instead, she returned what she called Ritter’s “stab in the heart” with a stab of her own, telling King that Ritter’s “really low-class joke” played a role in her “higher power” pushing her to come forward as a breast cancer survivor … who just happened to have what may be the most bizarre—if brilliantly bad-PR-shifting—explanation ever for having cellulite sucked out of one’s post-ButtMastered hips, upper back and abdomen.
“The whole reason I was in (the lipo clinic)—my book was not even on my mind,” Somers told King after evading his lipocentric questions for a good 10-15 minutes. “The whole reason that I went in there is because of … of … I was affected by the radiation and what happened to me on the medication, and having cancer. Cancer … cancer throws everything off when you're in treatment.” Apparently, the infamously softball-lobbing King’s relentless pressing of the lipo issue also threw her off.
Ritter was unnerved, to say the least. “I talked to Joyce,” he told me in his Dinner Party dressing room, “and we don’t know if Suzanne has cancer or not, because she lies.”
In my 1998 book Come and Knock on Our Door, Ritter, DeWitt and several other Three’s Company staff members said Somers fibbed about her health and lied about Ritter and DeWitt in TV and print interviews while holding out for a 500 percent pay hike and series profits during the number-one-rated sitcom’s production in fall 1980. Ritter, the series’ lead, interpreted his once-close friend’s alleged cracked ribs (X-rays for which never surfaced) as a negotiation ploy, and he took what Three’s Company’s cast and crew perceived as her very public sick-out and very public grandstanding … well … very, very personally.
Flash forward two decades. Ritter was appalled that Somers might be using breast cancer—real or imagined—to leverage damage control during a public relations nightmare. “I take this disease very, very seriously,” he emphasized to me. One of his best friends, actor Paul Linke of CHiPs fame, lost his wife to breast cancer in 1986 after her valiant two-year battle, Ritter said, the crescendo building in his voice. Somers should be careful what she says, he added, because this wasn’t Three’s Company, circa-1980 back/rib injuries and a Somersize salary fight that threatened to sink a hit show. Forget livelihoods—this time, people’s lives were on the line.
“Do you think this scandal will do her in?” I asked Ritter.
“I’ve thought she was done a few times,” he responded, “but she always manages to come back.”
His words flooded back to me while reading Somers’ and Posner’s dueling blogs on TheDailyBeast.com. Posner quotes Dr. Nanette Santoro, the Director of Reproductive Endocrinology and Infertility at New York’s Albert Einstein College of Medicine, as saying of Suzanne: “That she possibly aided and abetted her own cancer should have destroyed her credibility. The real miracle is her ability to continue to pitch her theories.” Counters Somers, “(D)octors who are onto ‘another way’ are afraid to speak up. I am speaking up for them. I don’t have a license to lose and I have the voice of a very large readership. My readers know I have never lied to them.”
The lipo debacle threatened to end Somers’ multimillion-dollar careers as a trusted diet author and health-and-fitness-product-hawking Home Shopping Network maven. Her breast cancer disclosure, however shaky in its delivery, miraculously not only helped save her lucrative contract with Random House (several diet and hormone-therapy books followed Eat, Cheat and Melt the Fat Away) but also enabled her to extend her brand identity as a disease-battling survivor. The requisite People magazine cover—with the ominous cover line “Is She Risking Her Life?”—soon followed.
And despite an initial flurry of medical-industry outcry underscoring that liposuctioned fat was not used to reconstruct breasts (“I think some of [Somers’ lipo story] is spin,” Dr. Susan Love, a breast cancer expert, told People), Somers emerged a poster girl for breast cancer, alternative treatment and, eventually, hormone-based health protocols. In late April 2001, her oncologists, Mel Silverstein and James Waisman, confirmed to NBC’s Dateline that Somers had a 2.4-cm tumor removed a year earlier, and she rejected recommended chemo in favor of injecting the medically-risky Iscador into her stomach on a daily basis. By this point in the news cycle, physicians, laymen and media pundits continuing to question Somers’ odd and suspicious story about her still seemingly-unrelated lipo were pretty much seen as harassing a cancer survivor.
Unfortunately for Ritter, some viewers unable to grasp the space-time continuum misinterpreted his lipo joke—told a full two weeks prior to Somers’ cancer admission—as a cheap-shot at a woman battling a breast tumor. Entertainment news shows reporting on her King appearance inevitably showed the clip of a solemn-voiced Somers chiding Ritter’s “low-class joke.” Suzanne did nothing publicly to clarify this not-so-wacky chicken-and-egg misunderstanding.
By the second week of April, John released this statement to the press: “My view regarding any tabloid story is to put it down and stomp it. I had no idea of the gravity of Suzanne's condition. I apologize from the bottom of my heart if I caused her any further pain by my ill-informed remarks.” When I interviewed him for TV Guide about Three’s Company’s 25th anniversary a year later, Ritter would publicly only say, “None of that [contract controversy] means anything beside [Suzanne] being healthy and happy as long as possible.”
For those who’d followed the still-healthy-and-happy Somers’ career, her masterful PR turnaround wasn’t totally surprising. Indeed, Suzanne is the ultimate Hollywood survivor, coming an incredibly long way since her star-launching 1973 book of poetry, Touch Me, which SNL’s Kristen Wiig spoofed last week in a hilariously nuanced, and now video-viral, dramatic reading.
But make no mistake: Suzanne has always been laughing her way to the bank. The smart sex bomb used Touch Me and her wee bit as American Graffiti’s mute blonde in the T-bird to land touch-feely appearances on Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show. Producers took note, as did ABC exec Fred Silverman, who saw her scene as a wacky stripper on Starsky and Hutch, recalled her double entendre-laden Carson bits and called her in to join up-and-coming sitcom staple and Waltons co-star Ritter and classically trained stage actress DeWitt in the series-making third pilot of Three’s Company.
Within four years as a Nielsen topper and Newsweek cover girl (Ritter and DeWitt claimed Somers manipulated the shoot—and her co-stars—to become the magazine’s center focus in February 1978), ABC’s favorite as-seen-on-TV bubblehead swelled to the size of Balloon Boy’s runaway mylar dirigible. Untethered to the reality that, despite her burgeoning celebrity, she was the third-billed actor in an ensemble comedy about a guy living with two girls, the quick-witted businesswoman behind TV’s jiggliest sitcom ditz fired her publicist-manager, Farrah’s legendary “starmaker” Jay Bernstein, and turned over the reigns of her career to her husband, Canadian talk show host and supermarket pitchman Alan Hamel.
Oops.
The power couple’s first item of business: unsuccessfully demanding a raise from $30,000 to $150,000 a week and 10 percent of Three’s Company’s profits in summer 1980. Her producers eventually cut Chrissy to a one-minute phone call at the end of each episode. A defiant Somers took to the media, claiming a back injury/broken ribs caused her to miss tapings, alleging on-set “mob fury” mistreatment and charging Ritter and a “jealous” DeWitt conspired to keep her off the show. The public began to sympathize with Somers, but she was still fired in spring 1981.
Twenty years later and still estranged from her co-stars, a pre-ThighGate Somers was enjoying a multifaceted career resurgence. In 1991, she’d fought her way back from Hollywood oblivion as a star, with Dallas’s Patrick Duffy, of ABC’s new family sitcom Step by Step (which ran to moderate ratings through 1998) and—more importantly—as the leotard-clad pitchperson of the ThighMaster. Since 1997, she’d publicly sworn by her slimming system of food combining (and related food products), called Somersizing, and she promised she kept her body trim and toned by using the ThighMaster, ButtMaster, Torso Track, Butterfly and other Somers-branded exercise gadgets now part of her multimillion-dollar health and fitness empire.
The public had come to trust Suzanne as a soul-baring author and inspiring voice of self-help. In 1988, after a blistering TV Guide cover story titled “The Rise and Fall of a TV Sex Symbol,” Somers dramatically recrafted her (to quote TV Guide) “gambling house chanteuse” image into that of a triumphant survivor of her alcoholic father’s physical and emotional abuse. Keeping Secrets brought the phrase “adult children of alcoholics” to the media forefront, and a thoughtful, heartfelt Suzanne hit the talk show and lecture circuits sharing her family’s touching story before playing herself in the book’s ABC telefilm adaptation timed to her Step by Step and ThighMaster comeback in fall 1991.
After a decade of firm thighs and good fortune, the Enquirer had to go catch her at a liposuction clinic. As Don Knotts’ landlord Mr. Furley would say, “Damn!!!”
Not that potentially career-killing scandal kept Suzanne down for long. In fact, by summer 1998, when Somers released her second autobiography, After the Fall—ostensibly about “blended families” but at its core a well-orchestrated response to my upcoming Three’s Company tell-all (for which Suzanne graciously interviewed)—the again-sitcom-less siren seemed ready for a media fight.
Ritter and DeWitt finally broke their silence about Somers in Come and Knock on Our Door and, subsequently, in the two-hour E! True Hollywood Story version of my book. Suzanne stuck to her story that ABC, wary after high-stakes Laverne & Shirley salary negotiations, and Company’s patriarchal powers-that-be planned her demise prior to her cast-and-crew-alienating sick-out and resulting media blitz—the latter factors inconvenient truths that she now omits from her tale of Three’s Company woe.
And the controversy-loving media forefront is where this onetime celebrity poet-turned-cancer warrior intends to stay. “I am the messenger, the filter for hundreds of doctors of great courage,” Suzanne writes in her Daily Beast blog. “I will be attacked most likely in this article, but read through the lines. I have no agenda.”
He was the legendary persona behind the immortal phrase “come on down!” But Johnny Olson, who died Oct. 12, 1985 from a cerebral hemorrhage, was so much more than a golden-voiced TV sidekick. Just ask fellow announcer, warm-up personality and Olson mentor/friend Randy West, author of the fantastic, brand-new book Johnny Olson: A Voice in Time (BearManor Media).
Hard to believe Johnny would be 100 next May—and that next October marks the 25th anniversary of his sad, shocking death. Thanks to your book, Johnny's voice is still transmitting loud and clear. What inspired your love and admiration for the man and his many talents—and your pursuit to write his biography?
Randy West: Chris, I dislike the expression, “You had to be there” because it rudely excludes everyone who wasn’t at a particular place and time. But those who were “there” to see Johnny, know. Like so many of the millions of audience members he entertained over the decades, I was transformed by Johnny’s presence. Within seconds of stepping on stage on what was likely just another rainy day to him, Johnny had me and 300 grouchy, wet New Yorkers who were tired from standing in line energized, enthused, laughing and bonding with the strangers they were sitting near. Johnny had a magical ability, and as a kid, I was compelled to watch him do it again and again.
Eventually Johnny included me in his warm-up act as a seemingly random audience member who volunteered when he asked who would be willing to get him a cup of water. Each time he sent me off-stage with convoluted and confusing directions to the nearest water fountain, I developed more confidence to mug facial reactions and ad-lib questions, and the routine got longer and funnier. He taught me how to get a laugh upon my return with an empty cup that I seemed to have spilled as I tripped and stumbled over the camera cables. He gave me the laugh, instead of making me the brunt of a joke, and the audience’s response invoked a feeling I had never before experienced.
What ultimately inspired this book was Johnny’s generosity. He was willing to invest his time and encouragement with a stranger who admired him. He mentored me from enthusiastic fan to working broadcaster by sharing the tricks of his trade, and he enriched the entire experience with his passion for people and his unique behind-the-scenes historical perspective of the business. That wealth of knowledge had to be chronicled, Johnny’s extensive career had to be catalogued, and his incredible character had to be celebrated. As you say, it’s now almost 25 years since he passed. It’s obvious that the time was right to be certain that his memory didn’t permanently fade.
Most of America, of course, recalls Johnny as the announcer who made "Come on down!" one of TV's most famous catch phrases. What did this radio and TV pioneer make of his burgeoning game-show celebrity in his "retirement years"? What drove him to keep working into his seventies?
Johnny told me that he first felt the thrill of audience approval as a kid, when he sang at his local movie theater. I think he simply loved that feeling – the warm adrenalin rush that accompanied his making emotional connections with strangers. What Johnny called “making merry” was a selfless gift, but I know he also derived a very personal reward from the admiration that he saw on the faces of smiling audience members.
The greatest lesson to be learned from Johnny was in the grace and dignity with which he transitioned from work as a host, emcee and top-billed attraction to the supporting role for which he is now best remembered. While others who have faced the realities of a youth-obsessed media passing them by as they aged haven’t reacted well to the challenge, Johnny not only made the most of the opportunities still before him, he also elevated the entire job of announcer and warm-up performer to new heights that earned him continuing recognition and respect. Talk about being handed lemons and making lemonade, Johnny added his unique ingredients and concocted a recipe that few have come close to replicating.
At the age of 62, Johnny and his wife Penny were planning retirement when the call came from Goodson-Todman with an offer to move to Los Angeles for a new version of Price. He and Penny assumed, like most shows, it would run its course in a year or two and the couple would be well out of the limelight and enjoying a quiet life together in rural West Virginia by the time Johnny reached age 65. As the show continued, season after season, Johnny loved the work too much to walk away, and Penny understood his passion for the work too much to make it an issue. If Johnny were alive and able today, he’d likely still be doing the job and America’s TV fans would be richer for it!
We also lovingly recall his anything-for-a-laugh Showcase skits. How did Johnny's "one-man operation" as KGDA radio's station manager—a $25-a-week gig he landed at 18—shape his knack for creating characters and performing comedy sketches?
Radio was played in the theater-of-the-mind of the listener, and using only his voice Johnny created fully developed comedic characters. He acted the roles of sidekicks, guests and even serious interview subjects to fill the forty and fifty hours some weeks that he was alone, behind a radio microphone in the 1930s. Only through years of ad-libbing in accents and dialects did he master the gift for fabricating over-the-top, fun characterizations.
I can’t imagine putting all that experience to better use than those wacky Price showcase skits first penned by Jay Wolpert. And knowing how little rehearsal time they had to collaborate on those sketches can only heighten our appreciation of the skill it took to play those insanely funny skits for maximum laughs, live to tape, without any chance for second takes.
How much did Johnny enjoy hamming it up with Barker's Beauties Janice Pennington, Anitra Ford, Dian Parkinson and Holly Hallstrom during Price is Right's golden years on CBS?
Johnny absolutely loved those opportunities! As Holly tells it, Johnny and the girls would huddle before their one shot at a quick rehearsal to collaborate and devise the shtick and bits of “business” that would make the most of the skit. I know he enjoyed the creative challenge, but more than anything he loved the camaraderie with Barker’s Beauties and the on-camera opportunities that were so few and far between in the second half of his TV career. He saved dozens of the scripts from those showcase sketches. It’s clear those were his favorite moments!
Few knew Johnny was also a singer. How did his passion for crooning propel his pursuit of a career in radio?
Singing afforded John an opportunity to participate in show business long before he had developed the hosting, announcing and interview skills that made him an in-demand broadcaster. From school productions and local theater, Johnny’s first work on radio was as “The Buttermilk Kid,” crooning on a tiny station in Minnesota. From there, singing was Johnny’s ticket to recording studios and hundreds of gigs across the country as he fronted a number of musical groups.
In fact, it was while performing as a singer at a Hollywood radio station in the 1940s that John had the epiphany to refocus his goals from vocalist to radio host. He left the musical group, and stayed in Hollywood to seriously pursue a career in broadcasting. It was a risky move, but Johnny followed his heart. There’s a lesson there for all of us.
How did you come to know Johnny and his wife, Penny? What became of his long-ago plans to write a memoir? Was this book the chief reason he saved so many clippings and other relics of his career?
My friendship with Johnny grew from those in-studio moments we first shared when I was in my early teens. I only came into contact with Penny after Johnny’s death. Among Johnny’s personal effects she saved and I now have is a long paper trail concerning a planned autobiography. He wrote outlines and sample chapters about his life and career which one friend suggested be adapted to be more of a history of broadcasting as he experienced it. It was exciting to pour over the carbon-paper copies and handwritten chicken-scratched notes to see how the idea was refined. Johnny ultimately abandoned the project, but I was careful to include all of the subject matter he was working on and the stories he wanted to tell.
The idea for a book seems to have only materialized in the 1960s. As Johnny began saving clippings, tapes and kinescopes decades earlier, I believe the scripts and other ephemera were collected simply to commemorate the high points of his career. Remember, Johnny loved his work!
Johnny and Penny were show biz partners, too. Often serving as his associate producer and, in the case of the popular radio-turned-TV show Ladies Be Seated, his on-screen supporting player, what role did Penny play behind the scenes in her husband's long and varied career?
Penny was in the trenches with Johnny, and she was very capable in a wide variety of jobs. From playing character roles in sketches, singing and dancing, to selecting contestants and procuring prizes, to arranging the logistics at hundreds of personal appearances, Johnny described her as “masterful” in bringing all of the pieces together for many of his programs.
By all indications Penny loved being part of the work her husband enjoyed so much, and there is much to suggest that she had been bitten by the show biz bug herself. Penny continued to give interviews long after she retired from the public eye, and reflected on her career with great enthusiasm. Her partnership with Johnny likely gave her far more opportunities and fame than she would have enjoyed on her own.
I think the greatest and most selfless gift she gave Johnny was the freedom to pursue his passion for more than a decade after she had hoped the couple would have retired. As loving a partner as Penny was, she also supported Johnny’s pursuit of the love he so treasured from the audiences.
Many don't realize the extent to which Johnny was a camera-ready personality and showman—and star of the American Bandstand-esque Johnny Olson's Rumpus Room on ABC in 1946. Tell us how he ultimately became Jackie Gleason's go-to announcer and Mark Goodson's golden game show voice?
Mark Goodson and Johnny actually crossed paths many times, years before they formed their successful alliance. As early as 1947 Johnny hosted a pilot for Goodson-Todman’s radio game show Time’s A-Wastin.’ But it took almost a decade before Goodson hired him again. The producer ultimately came to rely on Johnny as his “voice of choice,” and he was the first and only announcer Goodson considered for the 1972 return of Price.
Other producers were first to exploit John’s versatility. Before his 25-plus-year teaming with Goodson, John hosted everything from talent competitions, variety shows, interview programs and quizzers. As an announcer and sidekick he was paired with some of the biggest radio and TV stars, from Kate Smith to Glenn Miller, Merv Griffin and Jackie Gleason.
Johnny worked with Gleason on the comedian’s very first variety show for DuMont television, and they were next together in 1963 for a flop of mythical proportions called You’re In The Picture. Although that CBS show was cancelled after only one airing, Gleason became a huge fan of Johnny’s work that night. Gleason flew John across the country, between New York, Atlantic City and Hollywood, hundreds of times over the years to be part of every subsequent Gleason TV show that was staged before a studio audience.
Johnny hosted TV series up through 1964's On Broadway Tonight for CBS. Did he ever express regret that his career didn't ultimately go the TV emcee route a la fellow audience-participation radio show vet Bob Barker?
This is a very telling moment in Johnny’s life, and it gives us great insight to his character. While he enjoyed on-camera moments on that short-lived series, Johnny’s swan song as a TV host was the 1963 Mrs. America pageant. Judging by the wealth of materials he kept from the broadcast, it was one he wanted to remember.
There’s no doubt that he missed his work as an emcee, and for decades Johnny proudly reminded studio audiences that he had been the host of television’s very first daytime network entertainment program. But in the true tradition of a showman, Johnny never expressed any disappointment. The only public peek behind his seamless veneer was in comments he made to a Time magazine reporter in which he admitted it was a comedown to now be warming-up other hosts’ audiences, but he laughed it off by pointing out that the many shows he was able to announce simultaneously yielded a higher income.
After hosting opportunities faded, Johnny made the best of a situation that would have made performers of lesser character bitter. Despite being relegated to a supporting role, Johnny continued to approach his work with a level of enthusiasm that ultimately earned him greater respect than if he had continued as an aging on-camera personality on lesser assignments, such as local shows or commercials. In retrospect, it’s clear that he gained far more fame from those years as an announcer than from all of his earlier hosting work.
From your dual perspective as a successful announcer/studio audience warm-up personality and friend of Johnny's, what made him and Barker click professionally as host-star/announcer-sidekick as well as personally off camera?
That’s easy. Johnny was the best at discerning when he could support a host with a quick line or a simple laugh, and knew when to sublimate his own creative instincts to be certain to never upstage or outshine an emcee. Having spent hundreds and hundreds of hours as a host, Johnny had incredible sensitivity to when it might be helpful to contribute a straight line or a laugh in order to smooth an awkward moment or to help an emcee with a transition, but he never lost sight of his role as a second banana.
Gene Rayburn who had been a host as well as sidekick to Steve Allen knew the trick of maintaining that delicate balance, and was always outspoken in his praise of Johnny’s ability to walk that tightrope. In discussing the importance of having a trusted on-air partner, Bob Barker said, “When you’re in ad-lib situations with people, you want to know that they have the good taste and good judgment not to embarrass you.” Johnny filled that bill; he never even approached the line between G-rated good taste and questionable content.
I had a discussion with Barker about that very issue when I was announcing The Price is Right in 2003. During a commercial break, a couple in the audience told Bob that they were newlyweds, married only 2 days. He offered only the most wholesome congratulations on their recent nuptials, and the audience applauded to help celebrate their good fortune. I later confided that I would have been tempted to respond with something more like, “Married two days; what are you doing out of bed?” While Barker is no prude off-stage, he taught me that such a response could be offensive to some, and would steal the moment from the proud couple. Those were the kind of values and instincts he and Johnny shared.
Speaking of kindred spirits, some of Barker’s and Johnny’s mutual respect stemmed from their parallel careers separated by 3,000 miles. While both originally hailed from America’s heartland, Johnny was pioneering in New York’s early television community while Barker was hosting many of the same kinds of programs in Los Angeles. There was an added bond between the two in that Barker’s mother had been a fan of Johnny’s dating back to a time decades earlier when she first saw him at a personal appearance in the Midwest.
Describe Johnny's repertoire of high-energy, anything-for-a-laugh audience warm-up skills—including his famous "peacock dance." Why were these pre-show talents critical in particular for an audience participation show such as Price?
From the earliest days of broadcasting it became well known that an engaged and receptive audience was vital to the success of a program. Johnny knew firsthand that when even the best prepared material falls flat on its face in the studio, the lack of an enthusiastic response from a live audience would simultaneously dampen the home audience’s perception of a show’s entertainment value.
The unique staging that has the audience not only audible but prominently on-camera at Price made it vital that those 330 folks all be involved, engaged and enthused throughout the show—the more manic, the better. Johnny would dance, run, bump, grind, kiss, cajole and joke with incredible vim, vigor and vitality in order to infuse the audience with a level of energy that could pour right through the TV screen and into living rooms. Johnny had a special innate charm and likeability that made his antics especially endearing. He was part of what made Price feel-good television for all those years.
It’s tempting to say, “you had to be there,” but for those who weren’t, a great deal of Johnny’s act and the details of his well developed philosophy about audience warm-up are explored in Johnny Olson: A Voice in Time.
Johnny's death in 1985 was shocking. For young viewers growing up on Price during summer reruns and sick days, it was as if a voice from heaven was suddenly silenced. How did his death affect your life?
Like everyone, viewers, co-workers and friends alike, I was shocked. With Johnny’s ubiquitous presence on television for so many years, it seemed like he would always be with us. Although Johnny was 75 years old, he was in good shape and there was no indication that a health crisis was imminent. We hadn’t spoken for a while, and I felt sad that I hadn’t been in closer contact. I would have liked to say “thanks” again for all that he gave me.
You were friends with Johnny's Price successor, the late Rod Roddy. Did Rod ever share with you the pressures of filling Johnny's huge shoes as the godly voice behind "Come on down!"
Dear Rod. What a wonderful guy; kind and complex, simultaneously silly and so serious. Rod was a very private person, and I think he would appreciate my choice to respect that privacy.
The Match Game certainly pushed the envelope in the '70s and early '80s—and Johnny always seemed game for its double entendre humor. Was he comfortable with the increasingly risque TV landscape? What do you think he'd say about the provocative humor on your current show, GSN's hit remake of The Newlywed Game?
Johnny would likely not believe that so much of what is on television today clearly crosses a line he rarely approached, even in private. While I never considered him a prude, Johnny’s sense of good taste kept him focused far more on the living room than on the bedroom or bathroom where so much of the content of today’s TV seems to be rooted.
He made it a point during his Match Game warm-ups to tell audience members “don’t think too much about the answers… just go along with the ‘booze, boobs and broads’… it’s all in fun.”
Little offends me, and I have a very colorful vocabulary. I love the fun, but I experience a little culture shock at some Newlywed Game tapings knowing that the discussion is meant for television. Husbands disclose all kinds of intimate details including whether, during sex, their wives are more likely to be facing the ceiling, the wall, or a pillow. On one recent episode I introduced a husband repeating his wife’s pet name for him, “Sir Farts-a-lot.” No, I can’t imagine Johnny ever saying that for public consumption, but I don’t think he would have been judgmental. After all, entertainment has always been based upon giving an audience what it wants.
Any final thoughts you'd like to share about Johnny, his legacy and—thanks to you—his finally-realized life story?
Just that I’m so pleased that more people will now have the chance to learn about the man behind one of American television’s most popular voices. Johnny Olson lived an amazing life, and brought such positive energy and optimism to every undertaking. From the youngest of ten children in a family of a dozen members who all shared a one bedroom / one bathroom farmhouse to a nationally-known entertainer, John’s story is quite a tale.
I derive constant inspiration from Johnny’s work ethic, as well as the absence of cynicism and sarcasm in his approach to life. It’s a beacon that helps me stay on course when times are challenging. John said he hadn’t missed a single day of work since 1948. While that’s an impressive record, more inspiring is the upbeat attitude, professionalism and good cheer that Johnny brought to each and every one of those days.
Thanks Chris, for helping to whet the appetite for those who want to know more about this amazing, generous and kind-hearted friend to all he met! I encourage those who are interested in learning more about Johnny Olson’s life and career to preview the new biography at www.tvrandywest.com
It was February 1989 and the movie industry and moviegoers alike were about to be caught off guard by an unexpected, oddball film that even one of its co-stars believed would end up as a straight-to-video affair. Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure’s surprising box office success was a fitting triumph for a film that started its life as one of the most talked-about scripts ever to circulate amongst the Hollywood studios, that had been touted in previews for a full year and a half before its release and that had almost been shelved because of the collapse of a production company.
Writers Ed Solomon and Chris Matheson originally invented Bill & Ted as part of a comedy routine for an improv group at UCLA in 1983. The basic idea was for "really, really, really ignorant teenage boys who know nothing about anything trying to talk about world affairs." Good friends Ed and Chris enjoyed performing the characters so much they continued to be "Bill & Ted" in their correspondence and phone conversations, even after Matheson had moved further south to attend graduate school in San Diego. The friendship between the characters of Bill & Ted developed directly from the friendship between the two writers.
Over time they fleshed out the characters even more, giving them family backgrounds and eventually speculating about what would happen if Bill & Ted were to come face-to-face with some of the greatest people who had ever lived. The fantasy/science-fiction element of having them travel through time wasn’t really a conscious decision but seemed to be a natural progression considering that Chris’ father, Richard Matheson, was a noted science fiction author. With this basic plot line in mind and their tongues firmly in their cheeks, Ed and Chris journeyed to Lake Tahoe and completed the first draft of Excellent Adventure in only three days.
Eventually the script made its way to Interscope, which optioned it and asked for a rewrite. Buzz about this unusual, wacky script started to make the rounds of the studios, and eventually it became one of the most widely-read scripts in town. But it was also one of the most misunderstood scripts, as executives pondered the premise and questioned the mystical and unexplained ending indicating that Bill & Ted were going to somehow bring about peace, happiness and harmony throughout the universe.
Warner Bros. eventually took on the project, only to pass on making the movie in 1986 after requesting several changes (such as the dropping of the original time-traveling van, which they thought would be too much like Back to the Future). At the time, the studio was reported to have said that the teen-comedy genre was dead.
At last the movie was optioned by Dino De Laurentiis’ company, DEG, and the film was finally able to go into production. Director Stephen Herek, who had previously directed the comedy/horror hit Critters, had been brought in on the project when it had still been under Warner Bros. and was carried over to DEG. It was Herek who suggested the idea of using a phone booth as the time travel devise to help differentiate the film from the Back to the Future franchise.
Hundreds of kids auditioned for the roles of Bill & Ted but in the end Alex Winter (who had previously played Marko in The Lost Boys) and Keanu Reeves (who had already shown his young acting chops in The River’s Edge) were cast, although originally Alex was to play Ted and Keanu was to play Bill. The two were cast mostly because of their chemistry together. The two actors, who had never worked together before, hit it off right away. Because of the casting, Ed and Chris had to rethink their initial images of the characters, which were supposed to be "unpopular nerd-geeks." The casting of George Carlin as Rufus was inspired and a big plus for the production. Originally Stephen Herek wanted ZZ Top to play the Three Most Important People in the universe, but got the same "isn’t that . . . ?" feel using Clarence Clemons (of Bruce Springsteen’s E Street Band), Martha Davis (of The Motels) and Fee Waybill (of The Tubes).
The movie was filmed in the course of three months in and around Scottsdale, Arizona. Unfortunately, DEG was facing serious financial problems and originally hoped the movie would rescue them from ruin. Amazingly, when a new head took over the production company, he viewed the film and decided to pass on it. So the film had been shot but the company that funded it wasn’t going to bother releasing it to theaters. It was said that DEG even tried to sell the film to HBO. At this point many were concerned Excellent Adventure would die an unreleased death. Alex Winter admitted in several later interviews that he was dismayed but resigned to the fact that the movie was likely going to be relegated to the 99 cent bins as a straight-to-video film no one had ever seen.
Previews for the film had been shown off and on in theaters long before the movie’s release. In fact, when the movie finally hit the big screens on February 17, 1989, I recall asking a friend, "Didn’t that already come out a long time ago?" A year and a half had passed between the film’s completion and its theatrical release, which might have never happened at all but for a co-operative deal between Nelson Entertainment and Orion Pictures. Orion took charge of the theatrical release while Nelson purchased the video rights and helped with advertising costs. The success of Bill & Ted surprised everyone since it was released during a time of the year when films for adults typically dominate the box office. No one really expected a teen comedy to strike gold in February. But word of mouth helped turn the unusual release into a must-see hit.
The appeal of Excellent Adventure lies squarely on the appeal of its main characters. People can relate to these two friends who seem to be two halves of the same person. Practically everyone either has a friend like this or knows two friends who totally embody the spirit of Bill & Ted. They are timeless comedy characters in the classic tradition of the Crosby/Hope Road movies. And most importantly, they were just plain funny. Who doesn’t chuckle when Ted innocently answers, "Noah’s wife?" to his history teacher’s question, "Who was Joan of Arc?"
Twenty years later, the love for Bill & Ted hasn’t diminished. New generations of fans are discovering this warm, friendly little film that, for a while, didn’t seem like it would amount to much in the big, scary world of Hollywood. The film spawned a much-darker sequel released two years later entitled Bill Ted’s Bogus Journey, plus an animated series and even a poorly executed live-action series.
There has been talk recently of a straight-to-DVD remake of the film, updated and modernized to be palatable to kids of today. I, for one, hope this doesn’t come to pass. Not because I’m a purist who doesn’t believe anything should ever be recreated in any way shape or form. But looking at the creation of Bill & Ted, one questions if anyone could adequately capture what made the original movie so special. It’s not just a matter of throwing two dumb guys together, sending them hurtling through time and hoping for the best. The heart of the move is its heart, something I am skeptical anyone trying to "re-invent" the characters would genuinely be able to recapture without Ed and Chris’ close background. Some ideas are born of moments in time which simply can’t be formulated in a test tube or rehashed by updating a few key elements. Bill & Ted are timeless and should remain so.
Love to Love You Bradys author Ted Nichelson attended last night's 100th anniversary celebration for The Magic Castle in Hollywood. Magic indeed: He encountered a slew of retro TV faves, including (top to bottom) confetti master Rip Taylor (holding Ted's book); Laugh-In co-star and game show great Jo Anne Worley; Fernwood Tonight and Roseanne's Fred Willard; Little House on the Prairie's Nasty Nellie Oleson, Alison Arngrim; and accordion-squeezing MTV/stand-up goddess Judy Tenuta.
We're one Jimmie Walker short of a Match Game remake!
Jodie Sweetin, the middle girl from Full House, is telling all about her meth addiction in the new book Unsweetened. We wish her all the best in her recovery and her efforts to restore her once-clean image.
In the meantime, it's comforting to see that she keeps the Olsen twins so close to her heart.
The chart below lists celebrities (shown in red type) and non-celebrities (shown in blue type) who have all been diagnosed with cancer. (Assumed names and approximated ages are used to protect the identities of the non-famous.) Can you find a pattern in the chart?
THE ANSWER IS NO! There is no pattern because cancer is indiscriminate. Cancer affects all ages, races, genders and professions. Cancer does not methodically select who shall be stricken, who will survive or who may succumb to its terminal grip. Cancer does not care how much money a person has in the bank or the amount of fame one has or how many awards and metals somebody wins. Cancer does not think about the perfect prom dress or that favorite teddy bear. Cancer does not grant mercy to any of its victims—as even in death, cancer is hard, painful and suffers both the dying and those left behind to carry on. Celebrities suffer no more nor no less than the dental hygienist or paralegal. Non-celebrities vow to fight as defiantly against cancer as do celebrities.
Some folks suggest that having money helps. Newsflash: I have never seen cancer grab a $20 and head to the bank. I have never heard of cancer making a withdraw of $1,000 from an ATM. I know cancer takes lives from the rich and famous. I know cancer takes the lives of the poor and the poorest. Money may buy a pricey doctor or two or three. Money may fund trips around the globe to specialists. Not enough money may deny vital drugs. No money, no insurance may or may not affect ability to receive treatment. St. Jude is based on need and will not deny a child for the lack of financial prowess his/her parents may wield. Simple, at the end of the day, cancer does not recognize the dollar sign.
Celebrities do publicly support the fight against cancer. Lance Armstrong is the creator of LiveStrong, an advocacy website for cancer patients and family members. Since 1998, Katie Couric has passionately promoted the need for cancer screenings after losing her husband, Jay Monahan, to colon cancer. Christina Applegate faced with life and death took extraordinary measures to combat her breast cancer. Ted Kennedy fought as hard against his brain cancer as he did in Congress for his constituents in Massachusetts. Patrick Swayze and Farrah Fawcett—though overshadowed by Michael Jackson’s sudden and mysterious death—had both their valiant battles and tragic defeats displayed by the media for all prying eyes to see.
However, celebrities aren’t the only supporters in the fight against cancer. Other cancer survivors—including me—participate in raising awareness of the need for further research for a cure for cancer. We walk for those heroes we have lost and to celebrate our victories. We ask for and make donations to St. Judes, M.D. Anderson Cancer Center, the American Cancer Society and many other organizations and institutions sworn to fight cancer until cancer is an innocuous disease. Non-celebrities, like myself, may be sitting in the chemotherapy room consenting to have life-saving poison feed through our veins or hanging over a toilet heaving all of our souls into the bowl. But make no mistake about it—we’re fighting our cancer equally as hard as celebrities, though without the hovering of vulturistic paparazzi.
Ultimately, there is no difference in celebrities' efforts and non-celebrities' efforts when it comes to warring with and against cancer on all fronts, personally and publicly. Celebrities and non-celebrities are dueling for a common goal: NO MORE CANCER. AND THAT IS THE PATTERN THAT WE HOPE DEFEATS THE INDISCRIMINATE CANCER!
Share-y O'Teary: The Insider's Hailey Glassman (left), SNL's Cheri Oteri
Her former Saturday Night Live co-star Tracy Morgan may think she's a "bitch (who) can't even get arrested," but those of us who remember SNL's late-'90s renaissance know that Cheri Oteri can serve up one hell of a mug shot. And it's high time Lorne Michaels sentence her to making his iconic late-night sketch comedy series laugh-out-loud funny again.
Michaels should at least get her for a quick cameo. Only the delightfully twitchy Oteri could truly do justice to spoofing Jon Gosselin's 22-year-old "soul mate," Hailey Glassman. As the once-arrested party girl simultaneously wept, apologized, ranted, squirmed and tittered this week on the entertainment news show The Insider, Glassman unwittingly channeled the tragicomic essence of Oteri's spasmodic splendor. It made me all tingly for the days of yore when Oteri let it all hang out while portraying desperately dingy characters such as "Simmah down nah!"'s Nadeen, the Spartan cheerleader, talk show host Cass Van Rye and Collette Reardon, "Medicine Woman." (She also did bitchin' impressions of Judge Judy, Barbara Walters and Debbie Reynolds.)
Tracy Morgan, simmah down nah! Lorne Michaels, bringah back nah! Cheri Oteri, make us laugh nah!
Six years ago on Oct. 27, 2003, colorful Price is Right announcer Rod Roddy lost his brave battle with colon and breast cancer at age 66.
The larger-than-life voice behind the immortal catch phrase "Come on down!" from 1986 until his death, Roddy was diagnosed with colon cancer on—of all days—Sept. 11, 2001. He soon became one of the first celebrities to publicly campaign for colon cancer awareness and early detection. Sadly, as his cancer spread despite chemotherapy, Roddy also became one of the first male celebrities to share his diagnosis, in March 2003, of breast cancer. (Recently, former KISS drummer Peter Criss and Shaft himself, actor Richard Roundtree, revealed their breast cancer diagnoses.)
"I could have prevented all this with a colonoscopy, and, of course, that's the campaign I've been on since I had the first surgery," Roddy told CBS months before his death. "To everybody out there, get a mammogram! It can happen to men, too."
Despite his two-year cancer fight, the flamboyant TV ham—famous for his vibrant, glittery blazers and wacky Showcase skits—remained committed to his 17-year gig as Price's famed on-screen announcer and host Bob Barker's TV sidekick. He showed up with bells on until his final hospitalization two months prior to his passing.
"We all admired his courage," Barker told an interviewer in 2003. "He was always upbeat and hopeful. I went to the hospital and sat on the edge of his bed and we laughed the whole time we were talking. He was still having fun."
But not nearly as much fun, another former Price colleague says, as Roddy would have wholeheartedly preferred. In 2002, the high-energy announcer was suddenly taken off camera on the iconic CBS game show. FremantleMedia, the show's production company, claimed Roddy's disembodied voice was the product of their new "international policy" to keep all announcers off camera on all of their shows. Despite his still robust appearance, Roddy was seldom seen on camera in his final year or so on the show. (During his absence for cancer treatment in late 2002, however, fill-in announcers Paul Boland and Burton Richardson were featured on screen when introduced by Barker. And Roddy made a brief appearance on camera during the season 32 premiere in 2003 when introduced by Fremantle exec Syd Vinnedge.)
Roddy's rare on-camera Price appearance, Fall 2003
This "policy" was a facade, says veteran Barker's Beauty prize model Holly Hallstrom. The 1977-95 show vet, who countersued the series' legendary emcee-turned-exec producer and won a multi-million-dollar settlement in 2005, claims Barker yanked Roddy off the screen in 2002 following a backstage dispute over money. According to Hallstrom, Roddy demanded higher pay for a series of successful Price primetime specials. She says Barker—not Fremantle—retaliated by taking away the very thing that kept the ailing announcer going: his coveted, if minimal, camera time.
For the first time ever, an emotional Hallstrom breaks her silence, in this Retroality.TV audio interview, about her "precious" co-star's reaction to his on-screen vanishing act while he fought for survival during the final year-plus of his life. (This segment of Hallstrom's explosive Retroality.TV interview—part 4 in an ongoing series of exclusive chats with the classic game show model—will be available next month on our You Tube channel).
Barker paid tribute to Roddy in an 18-second clip montage in a Price episode airing after the announcer's death. Howard Stern mocked this brief memorial on his popular radio show. CBS' Late Late Show aired a considerably longer video homage to Roddy—one of the talk show's favorite guests—around this time.
The Emmy-winning emcee never referred to Roddy again on his game show. Barker mentioned Roddy only once in his 2009 memoir Priceless Memories—while listing him alongside his Price predecessor, the legendary Johnny Olson, and Roddy's successor, Rich Fields (whose frequent on-camera appearances apparently signaled the reversal of Fremantle's international policy in the last five years). Olson and Fields earned the Price host's recognition in the book's anecdotes; Roddy did not.
Roddy's long and illustrious Hollywood career took off in 1977 when he was hired as the announcer for the hit ABC sitcom Soap, which ran until 1981. Prior to landing his "Come on down!" dream job, he enjoyed success at CBS as the "avoid-the-Whammy!" voice behind the high-rated daytime game show Press Your Luck. For more info about Roddy, visit friend and fellow announcer Randy West's website.
Every weekday at 11 a.m., Welcome, Maryland resident Brian Boyle managed to tilt his head back and look beyond what should have been his deathbed. In a boxy beacon twinkling above a sea of IVs and tubes, loudly churning machines and his parents' deafening despair, Ellen DeGeneres helped him transcend each painful today by dancing like there was no tomorrow.
The talk show host's nimble moves brought hope and smiles to the St. Mary's College freshman's face, which, along with his once sinewy legs and equally fast-moving arms, lay frozen after the triathlete awoke in September 2004 from a near-fatal car wreck two months earlier. The dump truck that pulverized his pelvis, tossed his heart across his chest and landed him in a coma crushed the would-be Ironman's body—but not his selfless spirit.
Just as DeGeneres uplifted Boyle in his darkest days, his sunny optimism lit the way for his equally shattered and immobilized mom and dad. Amazingly, Garth and JoAnne Boyle's then-19-year-old son worried more about their welfare than his own. His desire to see them smile again pushed him to relearn how to smile, blink, eat, talk, walk, swim and soar on his bicycle again.
Boyle's story, Iron Heart: The True Story of How I Came Back from the Dead, hit bookstores on Oct. 1. Earlier this year, he shared with us his triumphant tale, which brought him full-circle to Ellen's talk show in late 2008.
The IronMan champ and outstanding young man recently launched his well-deserved book publicity tour on The Today Show. We congratulate him!
In November, we'll feature Retroality.TV contributor Rose Sacco's review of Iron Heart. In the meantime, we congratulate Brian for his amazing achievements, not the least of which is the publication of his riveting story in his uplifting book.
Ever find yourself sitting around wondering, "Hey, whatever happened to the Mandrell Sisters? No, not the one with talent who survived a car wreck only to then be played by Marcia Brady in a TV movie. No, not the one who did White Rain® hairspray commercials. The other one. You know, the lame one that Barbara and Louise used to mock on their early-'80s NBC variety show. Wait, they did mock her, didn't they? Maybe they just secretly resented her. Because the rest of the show—what with its reams of dime-store satin, countryfied caterwaulin' and inappropriate puppetry—was so unbelievably brilliant."
Anyway, if her official site's home page image (above) is any indication, Irlene Mandrell is now sick of your shit.
This could explain why her official Glamour Shot® now features her brandishing a gun.
Perhaps she wields it to knock off winged predators emerging from the bulletproof follicular nest perched atop Louise's noggin. Or perhaps she heard Shelley Hack wasn't quite working out on Charlie's Angels and wants to strike while the iron's hot. Either way, she's ready to take 1980 by storm.
One of these things is not like the others. (It's not the purple one.)
Utter contempt?
Bubbles are pretty.
Irlene's official bio says it all (and if it doesn't, are you really gonna argue with her?):
Irlene Mandrell is many things including countrywoman, mother, glamorous star, and someone you feel comfortable with around your own kitchen table ...
"Excuse me, Irl, but could you pass me another baked potato? Artillery makes me hungry!"
She has one of the most recognizable faces of today...
"Sure, hon, I totally recognize you. Especially with that pistol of yours to my head."
A devoted mother of three, Irlene still finds time to pursue her career. Actress, singer, dancer, comedian, percussionist, hunter, spokes model, and car racecar driver, Irlene does it all.
"Car racecar. Thanks for specifying, Irl. Would you mind playing 'Devil Went Down to Georgia' for me ... on that blood-soaked shotgun? You're so funny. And dancer-like. Screw those meat-puppet sisters of yours—any woman who can take out an elk while sleepin' single in a double bed can do it all. Hey, have you ever thought of running for president?"
Phallic-nosed Krofft puppet + tucked-in blouse = woman destined to wield a gun
Retroality.TV's cover story is running a bit late this month! Soon we plan to post our exclusive interview with pop culture legend Geri Reischl, known in retro TV circles as The Brady Variety Hour's "Fake Jan." Here's a preview of our groovy cover art ... can you tell Real Jan from her spin-off doppleganger?
Check back soon—as soon as we receive Geri's answers to our interview questions this month, we'll post this story. She's got a great new site and a fun upcoming personal appearance to promote, so we know she's been busy. And we'll be thrilled to help spread the word about the fruit of her efforts!
Bob Barker talks to FOX News about giving $3 million to the Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund. The money will aid in the construction of a new hospital treating U.S. military personnel experiencing traumatic brain injuries. Barker served as a naval aviator during World War II. The research, diagnosis and treatment facility, expected to open next year, will be located adjacent to the National Military Medical Center in Bethesda.
The Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund has been raising money for the treatment center since 2007. The Fund also provides financial support for the families of U.S. military members killed in the line of duty.
"I am very happy to do whatever I can to support the brave men and women who have given so much in service to our nation," Barker said in a statement. "They have given so much for us; all Americans owe them a debt of gratitude for their tremendous service and sacrifice."
The legendary host also spills to FOX News about his first sexual harassment lawsuit and David Letterman's sex scandal. Barker was sued for sexual harassment in 1994 by show model Dian Parkinson and again in 2001 by longtime Price employee Sharon Friem. Parkinson dropped her suit in 1995.
According to Friem's suit, Barker "acted in a lecherous manner" toward Friem, "made a pass at her" and offered to buy her a condo "if she would let him come over to visit her once a week," despite Friem making "it clear on many occasions that she did not want to be involved with him in any way except professionally." Friem settled for an undisclosed sum in 2005.
As Price's executive producer since 1988, Barker also was sued in 2004 and again in 2007 by three African-American show staffers who alleged Barker's longtime producer, Phil Wayne, sexually harassed them while making racially-charged remarks to and about them. Wayne was fired from the show in 2005.
Forget legions of lawyers, publicists, focus groups, gossipmongers, news pundits, crisis management teams and Miss Cleo. CBS's King of Late Night need only look to CBS's former (and nine-times-sued) King of Daytime to see how NOT to navigate his first TV sex scandal.
Fifteen years ago, Mr. Come-on-Down himself, former Price is Right host and (since 1988) executive producer Bob Barker—then a mere 71 years old—shocked actual-retail-price-obsessed America when he copped to copping feels with one of his longtime and decades-younger prize models-cum-employees.
Days before fridge- and emcee-fondling Barker's Beauty Dian Parkinson—she of the itty bitty bikini who wound her hips so provocatively during "The Bump Game"—sued the game show deity for sexual harassment, Barker took control of his image (and public opinion) and broke the salacious news of afternoon delights-gone-wrong in a preemptive press conference. The longtime widower admitted to giving in to Parkinson's siren-like calls for "hanky panky," but vehemently denied that it was anything but her idea. "As God is my witness," he said all Scarlet O'Hara-like while raising his hand, "I have never forced her to do one thing that she did not want to do, ever, sexually or any other way, ever."
Never. Ever. Not even once during the Grocery Game. No way. Huh-uh.
Of course, then-49-year-old Parkinson disagreed, as was apparent in her jaw-dropping lawsuit claiming sexual harassment/employment discrimination, deprivation of rights under California constitution, intentional infliction of emotional distress, conspiracy and wrongful discharge in violation of public policy.
All because her boss agreed to play, um, Plinko and Pick-a-Pair in his dressing room. (Thank God that pricing games Flip Flop, It's in the Bag and Gas Money weren't created yet.) That was essentially Barker's way of seeing what he and other staffers called a consensual sexual relationship. Parkinson claimed he forced her to be a sex slave in order to keep her job between 1989 and 1993, when she finally departed ostensibly on her own terms. So, in June 1994, she sued him for $8 million.
(Letterman should appreciate these game show references. He's been a celeb guest on Password Plus, $20,000 Pyramid, The Gong Show and The Liar's Club, and he hosted the 1977 game show pilot The Riddlers. He also had a pre-litigious Parkinson on his talk show—as a mute but vivacious prize model—four times.)
But Barker refused to play Lucky $even (Figures). And after he publicly discredited the two-time Playboy cover girl over the next 11 months, she dropped her suit (her legal one this time), blaming health problems and financial depletion. Curiously, she never directly responded during Barker's media tour to clear his name while trashing hers. Parkinson testified that she'd taken "hush money" in exchange for "model consulting" payments when she "quit" the show. Evidently, she could speak out only in court filings and appearances, or through her attorneys. Score 1, Bob Barker.
The legendary host emerged, in the public's and media's eyes, as a victorious victim of a big-money shakedown. He also portrayed himself as the champion of legitimate sexual harassment claims—i.e., not those filed by allegedly scorned, come-hither game show models allegedly hoping to become the next Mrs. Bob Barker and/or very, very rich.
Barker seemed to have perfectly handled this potentially-devastating public scandal. In front of the camera, anyway. Behind the scenes, not so much.
Just when all seemed rosy in the silver-foxy world of TV's avuncular (?) emcee, another Barker's Beauty, Holly Hallstrom, was fired. Like Parkinson, this fan favorite had worked for Price for nearly two decades. Unlike "the lovely Dian," though, Hallstrom did not sign a hush clause but instead publicly spoke out, claiming she was forced out for being "too fat" and not defending Barker in the media—as her two fellow prize models had done—during Parkinson's suit. Viewers were aghast. Many angry Price fans wrote CBS and Barker. This time, Mr. Come-on-Down wasn't clearly in the victim seat, though he told Entertainment Tonight at the time, "I'm the victim here! I'm the victim!" It had become increasingly clear that Barker presided over a very hostile work environment.
Barker sued Hallstrom in 1995. She then held her own press conference and eventually countersued. Ten years later, after her dismissed case was successfully appealed, she won a settlement reportedly of at least $3 million. In 2000, shortly after his deposed and under-oath female staffers contradicted Barker's version of events surrounding Hallstrom's exit, Barker fired (or, according to him, didn't "rehire") five more female longtime employees. Two of the five—both of whom were very visible and articulate Barker's Beauties—received hefty settlements. The three behind-the-scenes female staffers sued for wrongful termination, discrimination and, in one case, sexual harassment. Two of these three women eventually received settlements; the other woman lost on appeal in 2007.
But wait. There's more.
In 2004, two African-American female employees sued Barker, his producer Phil Rossi, and the show for sexual harassment and racial discrimination. These two women—including future Deal or No Deal model and Celebrity Apprentice contestant Claudia Jordan—settled prior to trial. In 2007, a third African-American woman—this time a CBS employee—sued the host, the show and the network, alleging sexual harassment, racial discrimination and wrongful termination. Her case was recently thrown out but will, reportedly, be appealed.
Long story short, all of this very costly trouble likely could've been averted had Barker kept it in his pants. Certainly, lawsuits #2-#9 could've been avoided had Barker not—to borrow another CBS game show term—pressed his luck with his more outspoken and increasingly sympathetic female employees, the growingly suspicious public and the scandal-obsessed media, which circa 2000 included (non-CBS/Paramount-owned) shows such as E! True Hollywood Story.
Without further adieu (phew!), here are Retroality.TV's Top Ten Bob Barker-esque Things David Letterman Shouldn't Do During and After a TV Sex Scandal:
10. Don't defy CBS and (allegedly) give the female staffer you're secretly doing permission to pose nude for Playboy.
9. Stop letting women reach into your seemingly bottomless "$500 pocket."
8. Don't sleep with the chick despised by nearly ever other woman in the building.
7. Quit making women scream, "THAT'S TOO MUCH!"
6. Don't harass the gal who won't defend you publicly, then try to get her to "voluntarily retire" when she gains 14 lb. while taking hormone medication.
5. Don't call said gal—known for her klutzy bloopers—a "Big-Ass Ham®."
4. Stop hitting on women at "Barker's Bargain Bar."
3. Don't fire the lady who so publicly defended you during your first sex scandal if her testimony differs from yours during the lawsuit(s) spiraling out of said sex scandal
2. Don't tell ladies, "I'll show you what's behind 'Door No. 2' in exchange for what's in the box."
1. As God is your witness, never, ever utter the phrase "Come on down!"
What I wouldn't give for Dan Aykroyd to tie up Larry King, hijack his CNN anchor chair and deliver this apparently apt one-liner to the whiny-assed, self-involved, axe-grinding, (allegedly) ass-grabbing, globe-trotting, douche-bagging worse half of Kate Gosselin.
As much as I've tried to avoid the crapola circling her reality TV half-wit husband, Jon Gosselin's increasingly egregious behavior screams out on every supermarket check-out rag, entertainment web site and, now, TV news show in existence.
Somebody has to tell this father of eight, "Mr. Gosselin, despite your uncanny resemblance to his first name, you, sir, are no Dick Van Patten."
Still, Jon decided "Eight" was enough right around the time TLC dropped his moniker from the now less-arithmetically-complex "Kate Plus Eight." Suddenly, after several months of self-absorbed galavanting with one or more women six to ten years his junior (biologically speaking, anyway), he's had an "epiphany" and decided the three-year-old cable reality TV cash cow that's supported him, his wife, their eight children and his costly lifestyle is now "unhealthy" for his kids.
Or for his ego. After putting up for months with his unprofessional and sickening shenanigans—including telling ABC's 20/20 that he "despises" his impressionable, young children's mother—TLC finally put him in his place. And now, miraculously, he's concerned about saving his family. What. Ev. Er.
At least that Ewok dude married to Heidi Montag is bright enough to consider getting a vasectomy. If only Mr. Gosselin were as smart as an Ewok.
I offer the following anecdotes to Jon and/or his sympathizers as a cautionary tale. Not that he would head down this path, but his erratic actions seem to suggest that, under certain conditions, his immaturity and petulance could make him vulnerable to continued stupidity.
My sister married an unkind and infantile man in the mid-'80s. They quickly had three children. He sat on his ass while my sister took care of everything—from screaming babies, dirty dishes, errands, potentially dangerous kitchen spills and so on and so on and so on. When he decided to run off and have a mid-life crisis in his early 30s, he didn't have nannies, bodyguards and production assistants standing by to enable his self-indulgent conduct. Mr. Gosselin seems to have conveniently forgotten how much his TV series has helped him and his children as he tries to cope with life's stresses.
If he truly now has his kids' best interests at heart, I wonder if he's prepared to pay his soon-to-be-ex-wife alimony, along with child support. Does Divorced Dads Club pony up the big bucks?
I also wonder if he's prepared to stop sowing his wild oats long enough to focus on eight kids' emotional and mental development. I know 22-year-olds think little kids are cute and all, but will Jon's "soul mate," Hailey Glassman, step up to the step mom plate? Something tells me that, without his money-making series and accompanying celebrity, Mr. Gosselin may be on his own in the not-so-distant future. Nannies are expensive, after all, and he's learned the hard way that they can talk to tabloids. He might have to settle on daycare and a mute babysitter.
I hope for his eight kids' sake that he grows up and puts his reality TV money where his mouth is after this show ends. How much is insurance for a new Mercedes-Benz ML350 SUV, a new Porsche Cayenne and a 2007 Nissan Nismo 350Z? Hmmm. I hope none of those kids needs serious counseling, medical or dental work in the years ahead. Vroom vroom.
My ex-brother-in-law, who eventually took up occasional work as a truck driver, decided he'd "found Jesus" on an Oklahoma turnpike in 1992. Apparently, Jesus told him not to send money home to Ohio to pay his family's heating bill in December. As my sister and her three kids sat freezing in their squalid little house hundreds of miles from the rest of her family, my parents and I turned on the TV to see her idiot husband in a "heartwarming" story on a Tulsa news station. He literally gave another trucker the Member's Only coat off his back while telling a reporter, "We truckers have to stick together."
Mr. Gosselin, please do not purchase a Member's Only jacket. Not that you wouldn't pay your family's heating bill, but those pneumatic soul mates can distract you when they get nipply, er, nippy.
Shortly thereafter, my sister's moronic mate left her and her pre-school-aged children. My mom and I moved them to Oklahoma and eventually, after I graduated from the University of Tulsa and got established in Los Angeles, to Southern California. The kids' idiot father never spoke to them again, never sent a card and—unless forced by the state of California—almost never paid child support.
My mom, my sister and I made sure they had what they needed—including, first and foremost, love and attention—but we could never repair the damage their asshole father did to them by refusing to grow up. And, let me tell you, it was not easy not telling my niece and nephews—whom I consider my kids—how much I despised their father. No kid needs to hear that. Besides, they learned soon enough on their own that his actions spoke for themselves.
Think carefully, Mr. Gosselin. Maybe Kate Plus Eight isn't such a bad idea after all.
How much information is too much information? The book-buying public was afforded the opportunity to determine the answer to that question themselves last week thanks to the release of Mackenzie Phillips’ memoir, High on Arrival. So far it would appear that those who picked up a copy of the book and actually read it are coming up with a vastly different answer than those who have only been exposed to Phillips’ tumultuous publicity tour.
Before I go any further here, I should confess something. I am someone who became highly allergic to television news thanks in most part to coverage of the O.J. Simpson trial in the mid 1990s. We had already been slipping mindlessly into a tabloid culture prior to those two murders and the trial that followed, but this appeared to be some sort of tipping point for yours truly. When the lead story on all news broadcasts was that prosecuting attorney Marcia Clarke had surprised everyone by getting a new perm, I could literally feel journalism die. Somewhere off in the distance Woodward and Bernstein must have been writhing in pain, I just knew it! If I followed anything related to that trial following that day, I don’t recall. I was likely exposed to information against my will simply by walking out my front door and walking past other human beings with the ability to open their mouths and speak.
With the exception of Ellen DeGeneres’ 1997 emergence from the closet and 9/11 coverage, I have largely avoided television as a news source. For all the positive things it did appear to offer, television news failed to offer much more than sound bytes and commentary. This past week while observing reactions to Phillips’ book, it has become clear to me that nothing much has changed.
For those two or three people out there who may still not be aware, actress and musician Mackenzie Phillips revealed in her book, as well as in TV talk show appearances, that for a period of years in her adult life she and her father John Phillips engaged in incest—and that it was consensual. There are fine points that she herself debates in her book, but this was the grand revelation that Oprah Winfrey helped her share, literally with the entire world, and which inspired a sea of news commentators and TV viewing public to shout back, “TMI!”
But was it just TMI? Well … yes and no.
As I said before, for those who have read the book, largely the answer to whether that bit of information is too much to share seems to be that no, it wasn’t. Yours truly read the entire 300 or so pages in the course of one day. Technically, it only took me roughly eleven hours to read it, and I argue that as long as you do read the book to understand the context in which the incest took place, that not only is it not TMI, but it could actually count as helpful information.
Many of the television news commentators, as well as other online and print media commentators, have chimed in on their reaction to the single announcement of incest, but few other than Oprah Winfrey seemed to have actually read this book. I have to question how credible that commentary is if it comes without research. Chris Mann, the gentleman who runs this blog and who invited me to share with you here today, has training as a journalist and would be more adept at dissecting this one for you than I am. Are the hosts of The View actual journalists and should they be held to the same standards as journalists, or are they indeed free to share their shocked reaction to a handful of quoted passages as they mug for the camera? Are they entitled to critique Mackenzie Phillips’ motives for sharing this part of her story without first reading the book to find these answers? Whoopi Goldberg, when you’re done telling Suzanne Somers that she should know better for her statements regarding Patrick Swayze and his cancer battle, will you please take a look in your own mirror?
So what about the book? From my vantage point, it was written by a woman who has battled many demons throughout her life and who is making a concerted effort to be open and frank so that those demons would no longer control her. She concentrates heavily on her strained relationship with her father, discussing many different aspects and events that at various times brought them closer to one another or drove them apart.
The incest is described very matter-of-factly—alongside many other events—as being one of many things she “boxed away” to avoid confronting. What seems to be ignored in much of the press is how it came about as the byproduct of heavy drug use, which Phillips explains had helped disconnect both her and her father from their more natural instincts. She does indeed describe the first encounter as rape, but goes on to explain in somewhat startling objective detail the discussions she and John had afterward. This part of her story might possibly cause the reader to examine the finer points of what does and does not constitute rape.
The true shame of this book tour, as it has played out in the media, is that many people might be inspired to pick up a copy and begin reading in hopes of finding some lascivious description of father-daughter sex. Those readers will be disappointed. This is not a lusty soft-core porn novel, nor the angry ramblings of a former child star. It is the effort of a woman battling addiction to tell her own life story in her own way as part of her own recovery process.
What about the question of this being TMI? For incest survivors, as well as those struggling with their own addictions, this book has the potential to offer catharsis. For those who have not had to confront either of these issues first hand, it has the potential to enlighten and educate. For those who are inspired to read it because they question the validity of criticism Phillips has received in the press, it has the potential to inspire even more of a critical thinking approach to listening to TV news. Perhaps for a few of the individuals who have publicly questioned Phillips’ motives in sharing this part of her story, it may inspire some reflection and introspection.
I stated earlier that sometimes the answer might also be that this is too much information. What did I mean by that? In some cases merely hearing the announcement that “Mackenzie Phillips announced on Oprah that she had an incestuous consensual affair with her dad,” would indeed be too much information. The determination for that, I believe, would have to do with context. If you do not know who Mackenzie Phillips is, or even care for that matter, then this information might have absolutely no purpose. If you never listened to any of John Phillips’ music and have no vested interest whatsoever in his memory, this sound bite may have no value. If you are not an addict, or an incest survivor, or if you have an extremely weak stomach and are foolish enough to eat your dinner in front of the TV, then this revelation may very well be completely useless in your world. I still argue, however, that learning first hand from people what they have experienced and how they survived it does indeed have value to us. We simply have to be open to it. If we are not open to it, then by our own indifference we indeed render it useless.
But Curt, what about her own family publicly denouncing her claims? I am so glad you brought this up, you smart reader you. Michelle Phillips, John’s second of four wives and Mackenzie’s former step-mother, has released statements intended to cast doubts on Mackenzie’s incest claim and on Mackenzie herself. Denouncements have also come from Genevieve Waite, John’s third wife, as well as Bijou Phillips, John and Genevieve’s daughter. Farnaz Phillips, John’s widow and fourth wife, has stated that she believes Mackenzie is lying. On the other hand, Mackenzie has received support as well. Chynna Phillips, Michelle’s daughter with John, has publicly supported her half sister, and other friends of the family have come forward to substantiate the incest claim as well.
Michelle Phillips asked people to take what Mackenzie has to say with a grain of salt. Is this a fair statement? You better believe it is. I say this not to help cast doubt, but because I feel it is important to take in any kind of information like this with an objective eye. Do I believe the claims of incest? Yes, but in the end what I personally believe isn’t the crucial factor here.
Mackenzie Phillips has a right to tell her own life story in her own way just as any of us have, and just as Michelle Phillips does—and has. In 1987, Michelle released her own memoir called California Dreamin’. Locating a copy might require effort since it is no longer in print. John Phillips’ 1986 autobiography Papa John, in which he details his own drug use, is also long out of print but used copies appear to have experienced a surge of new interest (no incest claims apparently exist in that book, so perhaps people are hoping to—forgive the pun—read between the lines).
Mackenzie shares her reaction to her father’s book at the beginning of her own. She acknowledged that he had a right to tell his own story, and she owned her own reaction to that. It is impossible, I would argue, for any of us to share our life’s story without sharing at least small parts of other peoples’ stories as well. Nobody lives his or her life in a vacuum. Our lives intermingle and often collide. That’s life. In every telling of a life story, collisions are to be expected. If none are reported, then it inevitably will lack an important layer of honesty. As a footnote here, I must point out that among the friends and relatives Mackenzie describes in her book, Michelle Phillips comes out smelling like more of a rose than most. I find the irony in this difficult to ignore.
This is a family in turmoil over a deeply personal issue, and they have been sharing their turmoil publicly. It is the kind of material that our news media absolutely adores. For the most part they can just sit back and let it play out on their own stage as the audience inevitably flocks to see the show. From a business standpoint, it makes perfect sense—scandal sells. It sells only because we buy it, often without questioning the validity of much of what we’re purchasing. As Phillips describes in her memoir, she is not merely a victim of incest or her addiction, but at many times a willing participant.
Throughout the entire 300-plus pages she recounts her adventure and owns up to her role in contributing to both the good and the bad of it. Like Phillips, we are willing participants in the sad state of our news media. We helped create it. We are no more victims of this monster than Mackenzie Phillips is of her various demons. Perhaps we have more to learn from Mackenzie Phillips and others like her than we realize.
In one of my recent videos for YouTube, I provided a far shorter review of this book. One of my regular commenters, a YouTuber by the user name of DL737, shared his reaction to what I had to say. I believe his succinct response summarizes this whole spectacle best: “When will we learn not to judge a book by it's cover—or its publicity tour?”
Five of TV's Eight is Enough kids struggled with substance abuse, two suffered mental breakdowns, one is fighting ovarian cancer and one paid the ultimate price in the years after their show’s demise in 1981. Here are updates on all eight: 
In recent months, cancer has achieved an unusually high media profile, tragically claiming the lives of the iconic Farrah Fawcett, Patrick Swayze, Ted Kennedy, Ed McMahon, Bea Arthur, Dom Deluise and Dominick Dunne. One of its latest famous victims was Larry Gelbart, the Emmy-winning M*A*S*H writer/producer who in 1976 penned the first (jiggle-free) pilot of the ABC series that—on the heels of Farrah Fawcett-Majors-dom in 1977—would make Somers a self-merchandising poster girl and boob-tube superstar: Three’s Company.
Randy West: Chris, I dislike the expression, “You had to be there” because it rudely excludes everyone who wasn’t at a particular place and time. But those who were “there” to see Johnny, know. Like so many of the millions of audience members he entertained over the decades, I was transformed by Johnny’s presence. Within seconds of stepping on stage on what was likely just another rainy day to him, Johnny had me and 300 grouchy, wet New Yorkers who were tired from standing in line energized, enthused, laughing and bonding with the strangers they were sitting near. Johnny had a magical ability, and as a kid, I was compelled to watch him do it again and again.
