My life as a television studio audience member
y Rob Hoffman on March 19, 2018 at 5:34 AM
There’s an old saying that goes, “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.” It’s hard to determine which of these ideas has been my greater liability since I don’t really know any important or powerful people, and I don’t claim to know more than what I need to know, at least when it comes to my career. Still, within our own little fiefdoms, we tend to not only acquire some level of competence when it comes to our ability to do our jobs, but we also somehow ingratiate ourselves with certain individuals who are perhaps a little higher up on the “food-chain” than we are. This is important since sometimes these people can be of some help when it comes to furthering our careers, or at the very least, scoring us some really boss tickets.
Fortunately for this portly fellow, his connection to Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones allowed him to score seats in the owner’s box. The only problem that I can see for this hearty young man is that he’s the governor of New Jersey, and really shouldn’t ever be celebrating anything that has to do with the Dallas Cowboys, other than their demise. (You Tube)
There are some careers that seem to lend themselves to gaining admission and/or tickets that are sometimes considered very difficult to get. For example, if you work for a professional sports team, or a professional sports league itself, you can usually garner some pretty hard-to-get seats for the marquee events in that particular sport. Certainly I would assume that if you work in the theater industry, you can most likely find your way into the “orchestra area,” and enjoy a little song and dance. The television industry is no different. Television audiences in case you didn’t know, usually get to go to the studio and sit in on a taping for free. The standard way to acquire these seats is to either send away for them, or in some cases, stand in line. As enticing as it might sound, I’m fairly certain that most of wouldn’t have spent our valuable time standing in line for an episode of let’s say, the Facts of Life. (Even if it was one of those special episodes where Mrs. Garrett explained all of the wonderful changes that Tootie’s quickly maturing body was experiencing.)
Is it even possible to conceive of a more intensely fun experience than sitting in Ellen’s studio audience? How about if she comes out and starts dancing? Oh my God, I think I’m going to plotz just thinking about it. (You Tube)
Before I made the leap into the luxurious world of public education, I worked in what I had believed in college would be my chosen career, the exciting and star-studded world of broadcast television. In the fall of 1986 I was hired to work for a television rep firm called Harrington, Righter, & Parsons, or as it was better known in the industry, HRP. (I don’t want to say that “HRP” was a “waspy” organization, but let’s just say that I knew a guy who was reprimanded for using too little mayo on his bologna and cheese sandwich, made of course on white bread.) A television rep firm is an organization that sells advertising space on television for the various stations that they represent for both local and national time slots. My job was to be part of one of the teams that represented a given set of stations. My position was called “research analyst,” and it was the responsibility of a research analyst to use ratings from the Nielsen and Arbitron television rating services so the sales-people could demonstrate why the advertising buyers should spend a certain amount of money to buy time on WSYX in Syracuse at midnight on Saturdays when they were airing G.L.O.W. (Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling) Full disclosure, it was just as exciting as it sounds.
“Hey little girl, don’t touch that dial, or at least not for 15 minutes so the good people at Nielsen Ratings’ Service can record you as a viewer for our station. Also, you shouldn’t sit that close, you’ll ruin your eyes. (New York Times)
It was while I was gainfully employed at HRP that I happened upon a young man in his early 20s not unlike myself by the name of Bernie O. Bernie was from Findlay, Ohio, but had a rich southern twang that made you believe that he might be from Tupelo, Mississippi. At any rate, Bernie and I became friends, but eventually he left and moved on to another rep firm just a few blocks from HRP in Manhattan called MMT. Why did Bernie leave the somewhat friendly confines of HRP? Apparently his Uncle Bob was a big-shot at MMT, and Bernie felt it was an opportune time to work under the tutelage of his wealthy and important uncle.
As fate would have it, shortly after Bernie made haste, I made the switch over to MMT as well, and became once again united with Bernie the “bumpkin.” Bernie and I continued our friendship, and it was then that I learned that there were apparently advantages to be had if one were to be a “FOB,” or “Friend of Bernie.” Uncle Bob, who was a very nice gentleman so far as I could tell, had a lot of connections in the television industry, and these connections provided him access to a handful of perks which included tickets to television programs that were not easy to get. Thanks to Bernie, I now found myself on the inside, an individual to be reckoned with. A guy, who knew a guy, who knew a guy, who could get me tickets to the biggest and most popular programs in television.
It’s yet another sign of how our society has slipped when you see that our studio audiences no longer dress in a suit or a dress. These finely attired individuals can now sit back and enjoy the family friendly entertainment presented each week by Ed Sullivan, featuring Senior Wences, or Topo Gigio, or Steve and Edie. (You Tube)
I worked at MMT with Bernie, and Uncle Bob in the late 1980s. Three of the hottest programs on network television at that time were Saturday Night Live, The Cosby Show, and Late Night with David Letterman. These three very popular programs were considered to be three of the tougher “gets” when it came to studio audience tickets, but thanks to Bernie and Uncle Bob, I was going to be given access to all three.
Saturday Night Live
First let me begin by being honest right up front. We didn’t really have tickets for the show. Instead, we had tickets for the dress rehearsal. The dress rehearsal however is run as if it is the actual show, except it’s a half-hour longer. The half-hour that they deem the least entertaining gets cut, and those skits do not make the show. (When you consider how weak some of the sketches are in the last half-hour of the program, can you imagine what’s not making the cut from the dress rehearsal?)
When you first walk into the historic studio where the show is produced at 30 Rockefeller Center, you are immediately struck by just how small the room is. There’s a few seats on the floor for “VIP’s,” and friends of the cast and guest host, but otherwise the place is tiny. A “worker bee” comes out and pumps up the audience a little bit, and instructs them on when they should applaud, and to watch the television monitors and not the show. (Couldn’t I have stayed home for that?) Then the band kicks in, led in those days by G.E. Smith, he of Hall & Oates fame, as well as many other appearances in the studio for many other performers. The SNL band is ear-splittingly loud, and they mostly played songs that I or any other casual fan of music had never heard of. Then the show began. The host was none other than Carl Weathers. Yes, “Apollo Creed” from the Rocky movies. Weathers was to live comic sketch acting what most Eastern European Jews like myself are to high jumping. The one bright spot was that the musical performer was Robbie Robertson, the great songwriter and lead guitarist for The Band.
Interestingly, Weathers was not promoting any of the Rockymovies when he hosted SNL, instead he was trying to prove he could carry a movie, in this case it was Action Jackson. While I don’t believe the movie made much of a splash either culturally or at the box office, I did have an action-figure as a child called “Action Jackson.” However, the doll was most decidedly white. (You Tube)
Even though this was one of their better cast ensembles, featuring Dana Carvey, Phil Hartman, Jan Hooks, Kevin Nealon, and others, the show was not a very inspired effort. I think there was a spirited sketch involving either a Republican or Democratic presidential debate, but other than that, the show was not too memorable, and I actually felt it was dragging on by the end.
Late Night with David Letterman
I was equally excited when the day came that Bernie and Uncle Bob provided my wife and I with tickets to Late Night with David Letterman. Like many people in their early 20s at the time, I had come of age watching Letterman late at night. If Johnny Carson was the “hip guy” that my parents’ generation watched, Letterman belonged to the later stage “baby-boomers.” He was irreverent, sarcastic, and did what few television show hosts did in those days. He let you in on the joke that “show-biz” was nothing more than a big, hypocritical joke.
This is the Letterman I remember. He always reminded me of the sarcastic kid in class with the weird hair. My kind of guy. Although I do like his “Santa” beard that he now sports. (You Tube)
The first thing that struck us when we entered Letterman’s studio, also in Rockefeller Center like SNL, was just how absurdly cold it was. Me, with my usual impeccable timing was in the process of coming down with some sort of cold or flu, so I was already suffering from the chills. The studio was so cold, you could have literally hung meat around the stage and it never would have gone bad. Letterman I guess, hated the heat generated from the lights that they use in all television studios to light the stage. I’ve also heard that he felt an audience would be more awake, and therefore laugh more if they were uncomfortably cold. Either way, it was freezing, and I hated it.
As for the show, his guests included Sonny Bono, (No he did not sing, and Cher did not make a guest appearance, not even one costume change.) actress Theresa Russell, who was very attractive, and musician Randy Newman. While we waited on line, which seemed like it took up half the night, we could hear Newman and his band rehearsing their song, which they did over and over again.
Eventually, Sonny was joined on stage with Cher on the Late Show, but unfortunately, not the night we were there. Sonny without Cher is like seeing Abbott without Costello. I’m not sure if Lou Costello was known for fabulous costume changes like Cher, but I’m sure if he did, there was nothing sexier. (You Tube)
Once again, a member of the crew came out and “warmed us up.” They told us when to applaud, and to feel free to laugh as loud as we liked. Then Paul Schaeffer and his band kicked into high gear, and once again played at a decimal level that would have made Deep Purple uncomfortable. At least they played songs that I had heard of. What was most interesting though I thought was watching Letterman. He first came out before the show and spoke to the audience. He was very funny and charming, and you couldn’t help but like him. Then during the commercial breaks with Sonny, the two of them leaned in together and talked intimately while the music blared. However, once Theresa Russell appeared, things were a bit different. While Russell and Letterman were chummy enough when the cameras were rolling, they completely ignored each other during the commercial breaks. Letterman smoked a cigar and was totally oblivious to the young actress. She stared at the audience and waved and smiled a little, but otherwise, there was zero camaraderie between them. As Letterman himself always says, “That’s show-business.”
Jackpot!! An actual picture from 1988, the night we went to see Late Night with David Letterman, and there’s Theresa Russell. From this angle, Letterman appears to be leering at her the way a drunken frat boy leers at a plate of 30 Buffalo style chicken wings. However, I’m telling you right now, they didn’t even acknowledge each other when the cameras were off. It was super uncomfortable. (You Tube)
The Cosby Show
The third jewel in my live television crown was the legendary Cosby Show. The show was not quite as uber-popular as it had been when it first made its debut in 1984, and by the late 1980s it was beginning to show a little fatigue. However, it was still a pretty big hit, and Bill Cosby was as famous and popular as ever. He was in fact, “America’s Dad,” if you can believe such a thing. The studio was in Long Island City, which was convenient since my wife and I lived in Flushing. Bernie got us the tickets, but didn’t attend with us, so it was just myself and my wife. For some reason, we had VIP tickets, so we got to wait backstage in the “Green Room.” When we were about to walk into the elevator, who did we see carrying her newborn, wearing a robe, with her husband, former Minnesota wide receiver Ahmad Rashad? Yes, Mrs. Huxtable herself, Phylicia Rashad. As is always the case when you see somebody who is on television, she was much smaller than I thought. She was very friendly, and my wife and I now had a very brief story to tell. In fact, we saw all of the stars of the show backstage except for Cosby himself, which as it would turn out was probably fortunate considering the charges now pending against him.
What? You find this creepy? (You Tube)
The show also featured a guest star, Debbie Allen, she of Fame, fame. She is also Phylicia Rashad’s sister. (I wonder how she got that gig?) At any rate, I thought the show itself was pretty mediocre, and while the cast seemed to be having fun, and Cosby himself did a couple of funny gags for the audience, (The guy was very funny in his day.) it went on for over three hours. Not only did it seem long to me, but I couldn’t help thinking how difficult this must be for the child actors who had to work a long time late into the night. It didn’t wrap up until almost 11pm. No wonder child stars end up a mess.
Poor little “Cosby kids,” I was worried about you. Especially Lisa Bonet. I was very worried about her, if you know what I mean? (Getty Images)
Television audiences are put through a lot. It’s cold, the shows drag on, you have to follow the stage crew’s directions, and you have to laugh at things that may not be that funny. You also end up watching most of these performances on television while you’re in the studio anyway, which is kind of a drag. Still, the most interesting facet of getting a little closer look at how television programs are made, is how mundane it seems to those who are performing. It doesn’t look like it’s as much fun as we would be led to believe. It’s kind of like being a blogger. Sure I love the caviar, the champagne, and traveling first-class as I fly across the country, but sometimes the in-flight movie is one I’ve seen before, or the caviar is not from Russia. How am I supposed to keep producing quality blog-after-blog under these conditions? What am I…an animal? Get me my agent, and for God’s sake, turn up the G_d-damned air-conditioning!
They say that in North Korea, there is nothing as difficult to acquire as tickets to the hottest game show on the Korean peninsula, “Guess how great Kim Jong-un is?” Hey, that one guy isn’t showing a lot of enthusiasm. He may need to be reeducated. (GYFcat)