Yep, welcome to another ordinary night in Hollywood.
This was the Television Academy's salute to Reiner at the, of course, Television Academy Theater in North Hollywood. For those keeping score, I did not achieve the hat trick of pissing alongside Carl for the third straight time. The invited guests were all backstage in a green room which must have had its own exclusive urinals. As for me this time around, my bathroom "mate" might have been some guy who was a key grip on the last season of "Lost."
I'm lucky enough to know a TV producer who just happens to be a member of the Academy and she invites me all the time to these exclusive evenings. I have been judicious on which ones I actually attend, which explains why I may skip something like "An Evening with Alan Sues." But, naturally, showing up to salute Carl Reiner is a no-brainer for me. And, apparently, it was for a lot of TV Academy members who gobbled up the "first come, first served" ducats. So many of them, in fact, that we were all told to go home as soon as we got there.
These evenings are always overbooked, so you can easily wind up driving to the Valley for nothing. The "no room at the inn" declaration last week turned away lots of folks, including me and the guy standing next to me on line---the aforementioned Jerry Mathers, who I can clearly attest to all that he was not killed in Vietnam as the urban legend goes. I resisted the urge to turn to him and ask if Wally and Lumpy had managed to get in ahead of us. Instead, we both accepted the Academy's invitation to stand on line again. To watch the show on closed circuit television in a conference room.
Since they regularly stream these events live, I thought of the sheer folly now enveloping this night. Standing on line to watch something on a television screen. I could frankly do the same thing at home and languish in the sheer comfort of my gym shorts. But, I looked at the ultra craggy Jerry Mathers and wondered if I would have this moment again in my life. I opted to stay. Leave It to Len.
With now several lines dotting the TV Academy plaza, I noted how unorganized the Academy volunteers were. Stand here. No, wait. Stand over there. Hold it. You can't congregate in that spot. Move over to that location. I suddenly was part of #OccupyEmmy. Luckily, the Beaver was equally as confused. But, then again, wasn't he always for 235 episodes?
After about a half hour, there seemed to be some movement amongst the Academy workers. It seems that a lot of the invited guests had left passes for their own invited guests and, interestingly enough, the barber who trims Dick Van Dyke's beard might be a no-show. Two by two, they started to let some of us in. Mathers went ahead of me, but we were not far behind. Not only had us stragglers scored entrance, but we found up in the first three rows. Again, I found myself in proximity to the Beav. The picture shows you just how close. I thought of a plotline for Episode 236.
"Gee, Ward, I'm worried about the Beaver's hair."
On stage, there was a living room set that may have been stolen for the evening from the TV Academy's reception area. Some no-name guy was the host for the festivities and he will now be forever known as the man who asked the longest questions in the history of mankind. He literally spent five minutes framing one query which could have been easily reduced to "so, Carl, how does it feel to be 89?"
I looked around at the crowd and I had the sense that these were all TV people. Unrecognizable, but television insiders nonetheless. Hmm, that guy looks familiar. Perhaps he once served Carl coffee at the Desilu commissary. Hey, that lady over there! Isn't that the assistant who used to help Rose Marie up to the top row on the "Hollywood Squares?" I was rubbing elbows with people who had, well, very frayed elbows already.
One by one, the verbose questioner brought out special guests to spend some quality moments with Carl Reiner who sat on that couch so long that he had trouble getting up by evening's end. Paul Reiser, who had written the character of Alan Brady into an episode of "Mad About You." Garry Shandling, who had used Carl Reiner as a guest on his show. Eva Marie Saint, who played Carl's wife in "The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming." Lily Tomlin who starred in "All of Me." Her co-star, Steve Martin, was on tape and apologized that he couldn't be there because he was busy having dinner next door. Bonnie Hunt, who is more commonly known in Hollywood by the body part that rhymes with her last name, also appeared for some reason or another.
When the "Dick Van Dyke Show" folks made their collective appearance, the gala got into high gear. Van Dyke pretended to trip over the coffee table. Hey, why not? Rose Marie was wheeled out and her famous hair bow is now simply a speck on a head that has obviously taken way too much Prednisone. Larry "Ritchie" Matthews on also on hand. I noticed two earrings and black fingernail polish. I am thinking that, back when, he enjoyed chumming around with Don Grady more than with Shelley Fabares.
Absent from the proceedings were son Rob Reiner who is plagued with a case of walking pneumonia. I thought he should have been wearing a scarf at that last Dodger home game. Mel Brooks also sent his regrets as he is suffering with sciatic pain that even he wouldn't wish on a Nazi.
George Clooney was the final surprise as he presented a TV Academy honorary award to Carl and I suppose we were lucky that there had not been a hurricane or an earthquake last week. More standing ovations as all re-assembled on stage for a champagne toast. I spotted "Everybody Loves Raymond" creator Phil Rosenthal two rows away and I realized just how many of my writing heroes were in that room that night.
Once again, I realized that I indeed lived in Hollywood. A special night that can only happen here.
P.S., Jerry Mathers didn't need a lift home.
Dinner last night: Cervelat sandwich and side salad.
1 comment:
I know you'll get another shot at peeing next to Carl Reiner. It's destiny.
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