Maybe We'll Have You Back: The Life of a Perennial TV Guest Star by Fred Stoller, Ray Romano Page B
Authors: Fred Stoller, Ray Romano
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auditions. I saw the box. It’s jammed with scripts for other people’s auditions, but not for me! I’m gonna give it to them tomorrow!”
He stormed off and reminded me that in Hollywood there’s always someone to make you feel you’ve actually got it together, or are less desperate. Only in showbiz could someone like me refer to someone else as a “character.” I admit there have been times that I’ve found my envelope, but continued leafing through out of curiosity to see who else had an audition. But I had never come over to stalk the box when I had no reason to make the trip.
I skimmed through the sides as I was opening my car door. It was the part of a perennial hypochondriac who comes to this clinic every day and runs down a litany of his ailments.
“My eyes are itchy, my throat has a tickle, my stomach is twinging, and I have a ringing in my left ear. Then there’s the usual shooting pains, foot sores, post nasal drip, and heart palpitations. But who’s complaining?”
That seemed like a pretty good fit for me. Sometimes on the sheet with the information where and when the reading is, they’ll also say which producers will be there. I had mixed feelings when I saw that Bob Tischler, my old boss from Nightlife with David Brenner, was now running Empty Nest . We had not left off on the best of terms. My last days there were not a warm experience. I knew even if it was a good experience, a familiar face in the room isn’t always a good thing. I had learned auditioning for someone you had some kind of history with doesn’t always mean you have leverage. I have read for friends from my stand-up days and people I’ve worked for on other shows to no avail. Sometimes old acquaintances can be the toughest rooms. They start off very friendly and when it comes to the reading, they sit there with their arms folded and then quickly thank you for coming by when it’s over.
Was I being brought in just so he could taunt me? I pictured him sitting there making me sweat, telling me with his blank stare he still has power over me.
“Oh, this is the guy who thought he didn’t have to write topical jokes. I fired you back then and now I can decide if you’re working for me or not again.”
But what choice did I have? So I went to the audition, and I admit I let paranoia get the best of me. It was a very friendly room. We did some minor catching up before I read. I got some great laughs as the part of Mr. Garrison, the clinic’s resident hypochondriac.
The late great comedic actor Richard Mulligan starred as Dr. Harry Weston on that show. The sixth season when I had my appearance, he was working in a clinic in downtown Miami. I was excited that I was referred to in the script as the hypochondriac who’s at the clinic every day. I took that, hoping I could return and be a recurring part of the show.
There were some other changes that season besides Dr. Weston moving from private practice to the inner city clinic. Marsha Warfield from Night Court and Estelle Getty who reprised her role as Sophia from The Golden Girls were brought on. Both obviously were fortunate to go from one nice home to another one. Gone from the show was Kristy McNichol due to her struggle with clinical depression. She played a cop, so that season they only referred to her as being away on “undercover assignment.” As far as I could tell, there was no mention of her around the set. The taping seemed to go very smoothly. The only distraction was Bear, the dog who portrayed Dreyfuss, the Weston’s family pet. All he had to do was coyly turn his head and nuzzle his face on Carol Weston’s (Dinah Manoff) lap. Bear kept messing up. On several takes he’d bark out of place during her lines. And on several other cues he did nothing at all. The audience loved it. His trainer stood by his side, frantically giving the dog cues to get him to respond at the proper time. Bear seemed more concerned with his trainer. He got up out of his chair once
He stormed off and reminded me that in Hollywood there’s always someone to make you feel you’ve actually got it together, or are less desperate. Only in showbiz could someone like me refer to someone else as a “character.” I admit there have been times that I’ve found my envelope, but continued leafing through out of curiosity to see who else had an audition. But I had never come over to stalk the box when I had no reason to make the trip.
I skimmed through the sides as I was opening my car door. It was the part of a perennial hypochondriac who comes to this clinic every day and runs down a litany of his ailments.
“My eyes are itchy, my throat has a tickle, my stomach is twinging, and I have a ringing in my left ear. Then there’s the usual shooting pains, foot sores, post nasal drip, and heart palpitations. But who’s complaining?”
That seemed like a pretty good fit for me. Sometimes on the sheet with the information where and when the reading is, they’ll also say which producers will be there. I had mixed feelings when I saw that Bob Tischler, my old boss from Nightlife with David Brenner, was now running Empty Nest . We had not left off on the best of terms. My last days there were not a warm experience. I knew even if it was a good experience, a familiar face in the room isn’t always a good thing. I had learned auditioning for someone you had some kind of history with doesn’t always mean you have leverage. I have read for friends from my stand-up days and people I’ve worked for on other shows to no avail. Sometimes old acquaintances can be the toughest rooms. They start off very friendly and when it comes to the reading, they sit there with their arms folded and then quickly thank you for coming by when it’s over.
Was I being brought in just so he could taunt me? I pictured him sitting there making me sweat, telling me with his blank stare he still has power over me.
“Oh, this is the guy who thought he didn’t have to write topical jokes. I fired you back then and now I can decide if you’re working for me or not again.”
But what choice did I have? So I went to the audition, and I admit I let paranoia get the best of me. It was a very friendly room. We did some minor catching up before I read. I got some great laughs as the part of Mr. Garrison, the clinic’s resident hypochondriac.
The late great comedic actor Richard Mulligan starred as Dr. Harry Weston on that show. The sixth season when I had my appearance, he was working in a clinic in downtown Miami. I was excited that I was referred to in the script as the hypochondriac who’s at the clinic every day. I took that, hoping I could return and be a recurring part of the show.
There were some other changes that season besides Dr. Weston moving from private practice to the inner city clinic. Marsha Warfield from Night Court and Estelle Getty who reprised her role as Sophia from The Golden Girls were brought on. Both obviously were fortunate to go from one nice home to another one. Gone from the show was Kristy McNichol due to her struggle with clinical depression. She played a cop, so that season they only referred to her as being away on “undercover assignment.” As far as I could tell, there was no mention of her around the set. The taping seemed to go very smoothly. The only distraction was Bear, the dog who portrayed Dreyfuss, the Weston’s family pet. All he had to do was coyly turn his head and nuzzle his face on Carol Weston’s (Dinah Manoff) lap. Bear kept messing up. On several takes he’d bark out of place during her lines. And on several other cues he did nothing at all. The audience loved it. His trainer stood by his side, frantically giving the dog cues to get him to respond at the proper time. Bear seemed more concerned with his trainer. He got up out of his chair once
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