Um, I'm not sure but I think I may have landed me a part in an upcoming episode of Newlyweds. I was walking through Rockefeller Center and who walked by me with a camera crew but one Mr. Nick Lachey? I wouldn't have even known it was him but my coworker pointed him out. So there I stood craning my neck to get a look just as the camera man panned in my direction. Somehow I don't think I was captured in the most flattering pose. Here's hoping I'm banished to the cutting room floor. Seriously, edit me out.
This won't be the first time I've made it onto cable TV. When I was youngster, I stuck my hand in front of a SportsChannel camera at the Meadowlands Racetrack as the horses were in the final stretch. Yup, this here left mitt of mine made the evening news.
In case you're wondering why I was at the track at such a young age, well... my best friend's father was rather fond o' the ponies. The deal was we looked through the racing forms and he placed our bets. Simple. I knew nothing about odds or handicaps but I made my selections based on funny-sounding names and pretty harness colors. That method won me 25 smackers, folks. That was back in 1983, so don't scoff at the amount. I went back a couple of years ago and tried using the odds strategy and I didn't win shit. If I go again, I'm going back to the funny names and pretty colors technique.
And not to be outdone, my right hand once made it onto a broadcast of a now-defunct CNBC nightly program. I was an intern back in college, you see. On one particular episode, we were waiting for details on breaking news. Once it came over the wire, my pale, quivering hand reached out from behind the half-wall on the right side of the set and passed the notes to The Well-Known Host during a live broadcast.
As a journalist I think The Host is a tool but I will say this: He was a rather affable fella. Except for the time he wanted to send me outside in the dead of winter to track down an executive producer who stepped out to an undisclosed location for a sandwich. When informed that the EP would be back shortly, I overheard him snap, "Send the kid to find him!" The kid??!? Ew, muthafucka, ew! In other words, I found that dismissive remark to be the height of bad manners.
But I got back at him... passive-aggressively of course but really, is there a better way to give someone the old F.U.?
One of my jobs was to buy food for the green room as well as beer for the mini-fridge in The Host's office. You know, like, when I wasn't cleaning his office with Fantastik or defrosting the miniscule freezer with a plastic knife and a hair dryer borrowed from the makeup department. Safety and good sense be damned! The Host needs ice! In fairness, it was the sycophantic associate producer with the gnarly perm who made me do these ridiculous things. I can't in good conscience blame The Host for my close encounter with Freon.
Anyhoo, I accompanied the production assistant on a shopping run on my first day. She showed me what to buy and how to charge things to the account. After we hit the supermarket, we went to the liquor store to pick up the aforementioned suds. Much to my dismay, the PA reached into the refrigerator case to buy two six-packs of cold Sam Adams. I had to intervene. Yup, there's me on my first day in the middle of a liquor store giving my superior a quick tutorial on why she shouldn't buy cold beer if there wasn't room for it in the fridge. Girlfriend maybe knew how to book guests and cue up tapes but she was utterly clueless about the scourge of skunky beer.
After that, I became solely responsible for the shopping. It sucked but being the conscientious and diligent intern that I was, I made sure to buy good shit for the green room to keep the guests happy and room-temperature six-packs to ensure a good-tasting beer supply for The Host. Needless to say, that goodwill policy ended the day after he sent me out in the snow on a wild goose chase. Hope you liked those store-brand ginger snaps and your funky-tasting, smelly beer, asswipes!