Toulouse Colombo

It was the night of my 21st birthday, and my roommate, Zoe, who I met when we were both usherettes and candy girls at the fabulous Pantages Theater, decided we would go out to....a bar! There was this place on Cahuenga West, Reuben's, across the freeway from Universal Studios. It was one of those semi-upscale dinner-steak house type places that people went to for birthdays. Dark wood, big booths. A Lounge with a 70's style singer-songwriter for entertainment. Of course it was a studio hang; I guess that is why were were there.
So, we were sitting at a table in the lounge,listening to some mellow tunes, and over at the bar, was Peter Falk, and Peter Bonerz. We of course recognized them, and soon we were chatting. They were filming god knows what, at Universal, and it was going to be awhile before they were needed, so they had gone in search of some liquid refreshment. So, while we were chatting, they invited us back to the studio with them! Well, this was years before I started working in the Biz! I was just a wanna-be Strasberg acting student.I had never been on a studio lot before! So this was very exciting! We followed them over in Zoe's car, and after they went through the guard gate, the guard waved us on! All Right!
We went into a dressing room, and they hunkered down, it was going to be a long night.
Peter Falk picked up a sketch pad and he kept drawing. Real quick, very few strokes, one right after the other. I was sitting at the make-up counter, with the lighted mirror, with my elbow, up on the counter, and my hand touching the side of my head. We continued our little visit, chatting and laughing until the AD came to tell them they would be ready for them soon. As we got up to leave and said our good-byes, Peter Falk tore off a page of his sketchbook, and handed it to me. It was a sketch of me sitting at the make-up table. He signed it, For Terry. Toulouse. Not to win, but Toulouse.

Many years later, I was working in the casting department at Warner Brothers, and I would manage to get myself little parts here and there. I saw a script for a movie called "The In-Laws", and there was a scene in a dentist's office where there were several patients. "Hey, I could be one of these people", I said to the casting director. "Ok."

I show up on the set, and I am immediately horrified by that yelling director, Arthur Hiller. I got to improvise a little bit; everyone needs to see the dentist, as Peter Falk's character drags him out of the office on his undercover caper.

We did that short little nothing scene a kazillion times! I was surprised that the actors did not seem to be fazed by it. And Hiller just kept screaming about everything, and no one seemed to notice. He was wearing me down.

I know that I probably mentioned to Peter that I had met him before, on my 21st birthday, and that he drew me, but I really can't remember the specifics. But it was fun to meet again, and this time, share the screen with him in such a cool movie!

Roseanne

I had just finished up the last season on "Designing Women", standing in for Julia Duffy, who I had worked with for 10 years, including, "Newhart",and "Baby Talk", (with a then unknown George Clooney). I got a call from my former co-worker on "Newhart". He heard that they were looking for a stand-in on Roseanne, who could read lines. They were introducing new characters, next door neighbors, and one was a girl about 11 or 12, so when she had to be in school, they needed a stand-in to rehearse for her.

I went to the audition, and read, and they were concerned about me being able to work with big stars; I told them, no prob, and name dropped Bob Newhart, and all the Designing Women. I got the job.

First day on the set, I walk up to Roseanne and introduced myself. "Hi, Roseanne, I'm Terry, I'll be standing in for Danielle Harris".
"She's not here today", she snarled, and walked past me.
I was dumbstruck. I loved Roseanne, was a big fan of the show, thought she was an amazing, talented, intelligent, brilliant, funny woman. All those are true. She is also a crazy bitch.

A typical day. She would come schlepping onto the set, scuffing her feet, looking disheveled, like she just got up on the wrong side of the bed, had a fight at home, and hasn't had her coffee yet. There's a sneer on her face, and she doesn't say anything to anyone. If you happen to be in her path, and cheerfully greet her, "Good Morning, Roseanne", she looks very bored and weary, and mumbles a begrudging "morning", and shuffles past. After coffee, it doesn't get any better. Sometimes worse.

If she doesn't start out telling some funny story, where the humor is at someone else's expense,then she'd start regaling a tale of some cruel stunt she pulled on someone. Like the time she wrote "Julia Loser Dry Puss" on Julia Louis-Dreyfus' car, in lipstick, when she and Tom had a fight over a parking space. Or, she is just as likely to start screaming at someone. "Where's my fucking coffee!?" was not unusual to hear. Or she might call someone a 'stupid fucking idiot". She once screamed at the director, "I'll say when to fucking cut!" She'd scream at the writers, "I have 21 of you motherfuckers! I want 10 new lines in half an hour, and they better be fucking funny, or someone is getting fired!". If she sees someone on the set she doesn't know, she'd yell, "Who the fuck is that!", or "Who the fuck are you?". If she can't hit her mark, she'd yell, "You've got four fucking cameras, can't you just follow me around!?" If she didn't want to do another take, she'd yell, "I ain't fuckin' doin' it again!", and walk off. She is in charge of everything, yet has no idea what it takes to do any of the jobs, and just expects any change of set, costume, script, can just be produced in the twinkling of an eye. If not, she'd start screaming at everyone. And firing people. She loved to fire people.

This was around the time Tom and she were in the tabloids all the time. There was never a dull moment around there. They just fed on each others' insanity.

Tom also surrounded himself with beautiful young women. He got Roseanne to hire Miss Iowa, (his home state) to be her stand-in. She couldn't read a line to save her life. Nice girl, though. His assistant was young and beautiful too. After one season, they dropped the neighbors. I was concerned about my job, but I was asked to be Roseanne's stand-in. Miss Iowa flew the coop. I think Tom must have hit on her. It was odd. She was just suddenly gone, but I was told that they were impressed with my reading, so they wanted me to do it. Ok, cool.

Well, since they finally had someone capable, Roseanne decided she didn't want to rehearse anymore. There would be the table reading Monday morning, then Roseanne would announce that she was going shopping, and the A.D. would say, "Terry, you're up". I sometimes would have to run to the bathroom, I would be so nervous. (Sorry, but it's true.) I never got a chance to see the script before hand, so I just had to wing it. After rehearsing all day, I then had to be Roseanne for the network run-thru; with all the writers, producers, and network brass watching. It got to the point where I was always doing everything, even establishing her blocking. Then I would have to show it to her, and she wouldn't listen. So then when she wasn't where she was supposed to be, I got yelled at. I was rehearsing all of her scenes; and she was in almost all of them; with John Goodman, Laurie Metcalf, Estelle Parsons, and noteable guest cast members, all day, every day. I was working harder than anyone. Also, Laurie Metcalf, who is a brilliant, theater trained actress, didn't feel she was getting enough rehearsal, so they asked me to be her dialogue coach as well. She was a little hard to read; but we had a professional relationship. Plus, I ran lines with the kids, and the guest cast. I was a very busy gal. Sometimes, I would work in the shot, too. I was completely taken for granted. I was a nervous wreck most of the time. I finally had to go ask the producer for more money. I told him, I am working harder than anyone! Everyone put together! I was carrying the show all week! She'd come in on shoot day, and I would show her what to do. I did everything but go on camera as her. They finally gave me a few hundred a week more. Chump change, really. I was making more money than I ever had, but was miserable. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. The crew and the kids on the show were great to me. We always partied together too, after the show. Every once in awhile, after I read a scene, one of the crew guys would say, "Good job, Terry". A little 'atta boy' goes a long way.

After awhile, John Goodman resented me. I'd be on the set when he'd walked in, and he would be so pissed that Roseanne wasn't there, that he couldn't even look at me, let alone say, "Good Morning". Then I'd have to rehearse with him. Yeah, as if I said, "Beat it, Ro, I'm doing this one". He resented me so much, that he actually physically, shoved me out of his way, on three separate ocassions. I was so shocked. Yes, big John Goodman, physically pushes a 5ft. tall woman aside. He is no Dan Conner, I can tell you that. He was a big alcoholic, womanizing, glutton. Baby Huey. He showed up to work drunk a few times, and Roseanne almost had him fired. There was a prop rubber cast iron skillet on the stove, in the kitchen set. I got to hit him on the head with it in one scene. I wished it was real.

She called me "The Girl". "Have the girl do it!" She would yell from the wardrobe room, where she liked to hang out and look at porn magazines. The wardrobe sisters were her friends, and she and Laurie would be in there, and they'd all laugh when she told the A.D. to "fuck off", when he came to get her. Sometimes she would come out and watch me do her part. Uh, yeah.

So, after 3 stress-filled years, and health problems, and a little money in the bank, my number came up, and she fired me. She wanted her long lost daughter Brandi, to have both my jobs! Of course she wasn't any good. I ran into Estelle Parsons at the Sunset Marquis, where she stayed, and she said she missed me. She sort of gave me a backhanded compliment, saying Brandi got in the way. I took it to mean, I gave a good reading so they could get a good rehearsal.

The best of times....the worst of times....


Epilogue

A couple of years later, I was working a catering job. Marvin Davis, the Denver oil tycoon, who bought 20th Century Fox, was throwing his son a Bar Mitzvah. It was a Las Vegas theme. Yeah, a casino, for a 13 year old. So, I'm manning one of the buffet tables, and here comes Rosanne, one of the early arrivals, walking toward me, with her young son, Buck, in tow. She was pregnant with him when I left, by her third husband, chauffeur/bodyguard, Ben. "Hi, Roseanne", I said. "It's Terry, I was your stand-in". She looks at me puzzled. "You were my stand-in?" She asked, incredulously. "Yes, for 3 years." I reminded her. "Have a nice time." If she pretended not to know me, or if she really didn't know me, I don't know. But either way, it's fuckin' crazy!

Malibu

Malibu, the quiet beach community, where movie stars' homes line the private beaches, and the sport of surfing was turned into a national craze. The Chumash Indian village was called Humaliwu, meaning where the surf sounds loudly. They rode the waves in their tomol canoes. Life was good for thousands of years, until the Spanish showed up. The Spanish land grant of 1802 was called Rancho Malibu Topanga Simi Sequit. In the 1890's a wealthy easterner, Fredrick Rindge purchased the land grant. He wrote a book about his life and times, "Happy Days in Southern California." He referred to his Malibu as the "American Riviera." His widow, Rhoda, fought the federal government for 17 years to prevent the railroad from cutting across their land. They lost the battle, and the highway was soon built as well. Now known as PCH, Pacific Coast Highway is dotted with pricey restaurants, where celebrities go. Like Geoffrey's with the beautiful flower filled patio, over looking the ocean, that you never want to leave. Beau Rivage, a lovely Mediterranean Restaurant that was the favorite of Michael Landon and Johnny Carson, and Moonshadows, where Mel Gibson should have left a few hours earlier. Rhoda ended up selling parcels of their beloved ranch, to pay lawyers fees, and many of these choice parcels, Malibu Colony, went to movie stars in the 1930's. A weekend getaway from the summer heat, and long hours at the studios.


The Rindge's daughter, also named Rhoda, married Mr. Adamson, and they had a dairy, Adohr Farms (Rhoda, spelled backwards)I remember drinking Adohr milk here in the sixties. They built another home on the property, and established the Malibu Tile Works. Right there on the beach. There is good clay there. The red tile topped wall many a surfer has leaned their board against, was the Rindge/Adamson property wall. The pier dates back over 100 years. The Rindge family dock, and later used for the tile factory, in the 20's and 30's. The tiles are in homes and buildings all over Southern California. Very collectible now. The Adamson House was the showroom for the tile factory. The whole house is full of tile samples, in beautiful, vibrant, saturated colors, difficult to reproduce today. There is even an oriental rug design all done in tiles, complete with tile fringe. There is a huge tiled fountain in the yard, with the famous point break just beyond. The Adamson House is open for tours a few days a week.


With the building of the road, people began trespassing on the beautiful, untouched beach. 1926. The first Malibu surfer paddled out on a 10 ft. California redwood board.


After WWII, and the re-designing of the board, and use of fiberglass, the sport became more and more popular. Then, in 1957, Frederick Kohner published his book about his daughter's experiences hanging out with the crazy surfers at the beach. The popularity of the book, and subsequent movies, and later tv show, "Gidget", started the whole surf craze, and created a new musical genre.


This of course, did not make the surfers of Malibu happy, with swarms of hodads descending on their beloved turf. And surf. Well, you can't stop a wave, whether it be water or a cultural phenomenon.



I always loved to go to the beach and watch the surfers. I had moved to LA from Arizona in 1965. Arizona had plenty of sand, but no water. So, when I got here, I jumped right in. I got my St. Christopher medal, and striped shirt, bleached my hair blonde, and became a California Girl. I learned to body surf. I loved coming home after a day at the beach, slightly sunburned, gritty with salt and sand, and sleepy from the sun.


Years later, when I worked on the cult surf movie, "Big Wednesday" as a beach bunny and party girl,(type casting!) I learned all about the legendary surfers of Malibu. Miki "Da Cat" Dora, "No Pants" Lance Carson, and others. Some of the Malibu regulars were used in the movie as well, Johnnie Fain, who also appeared in many beach party movies, and Angie Reno. Being a part of that movie experience, ingrained in me a fondness for that time and place, and wanting to know more of the history.


When we went on location to the Hollister Ranch to shoot the film, they perfectly reproduced the wall at Malibu's Surfrider Beach, and built the little palm covered shelter that used to be there where everyone hung out. They needed that pristine look, before all the buildings and houses were built, on Pacific Coast Highway, and the bluffs over looking Surfrider Beach.


The real Gidget Kathy Kohner Zuckerman, is the weekend hostess at yet another storied PCH eatery. Duke's, named after the legendary Hawaiian surfer, and Olympic swimmer, Duke Kahanamoku. He also re-introduced the sport of surfing to the islands, after missionaries discouraged it. And he brought it to the Mainland. The restaurant has a kitsch Hawiian surf motif. You can buy Kathy's Dad's book there.


More recently,I had attended a couple of "Big Wednesday" Reunions at Duke's. They were benefits for the Surfrider Foundation. I met Kathy Zuckerman there, and many of the cast and crew from the movie showed up, and we all partied again.


I don't get to the beach much anymore, but when I do go, I always want to go to Surfrider, in Malibu. And nearly everytime I'd been there, I'd see Angie Reno there, eternal beach boy.


Malibu is world famous, for it's surf and celebrities. I'm sure Barbie and the Chevy helped to make it so, and all the movies shot there; it is such a part of American culture. People ask me at the Visitors Center where I work, how to get to Malibu. I try to prepare them, because for all it's glamor and fame, it's still just a quiet little town, and at Surfrider, it's just the sun, and the sand, and the surfers in the water, catching some tasty waves at one of the best surfing spots in the world.




Footnote: Last year, Malibu was designated the first world surfing preserve. In a ceremony performed by the Chumash people, it was recognized, and as such, will be protected because of its historical, cultural, biological and economic significance.

Chuck E. and Rickie Lee

The legendary Tropicana Hotel, where many, many bands stayed throughout the 70's and 80's, had this funky little coffee shop attached, called Duke's. It looked like a cross between an employee lunchroom, and a small town coffee shop, with a big seascape on the wall, with a collage of different people and scenes modge podged onto it. There was a counter and stools, and the grill behind that. It was always bustling. You waited for a seat, and sat down at long tables, with other people. You would always end up talking to the people at your table, and it was always interesting. Rockers on tour and locals,tumbled out of bed with tousled hair, threw on some clothes, and ambled in to Duke's for a strong cuppa joe and a monster omlette.

I found myself there, one day, with my aunt, and during our meal, we noticed that a bag lady at the table had ordered a glass of water. That's it. I was surprised they let her stay. As we chowed down on our giant platter of food, the bag lady, was spooning jam, from the jar at the table, into her glass of water. My aunt and I watched her for awhile, and were giggling, what's next the ketchup packets? As we were watching, the guy at the end of the table said, "What you mock, you will become." We looked at him and he said it again. So we laughed, and of course struck up a conversation, and he told us his name was Chuck. He had a band, he was playing at The Central on the Sunset Strip,(later to become The Viper Room) and we should come and see him. Chuck E. Weiss and The Goddamn Liars.

So, I'm at the Viper Room, waiting for the band to come on. They walk onto the stage, and there is my friend Spyder, who I knew from another friend's band! A wild and crazy sax player, with a little Pacino thing goin' on, with a pompadour and a cream colored zoot suit.

The band starts playing "Rumble". From the shadows, Chuck struts onto the stage to the music, in a zoot suit with a looooong chain hanging from his trousers. He took the stage, and went into his set.

Afterwards, I went to say hi to them, and Spyder gave me a big hug, and introduced me to Chuck, and I said we had already met. Chuck wagged his finger in front of my face, narrowed his eyes, and said, "What you mock you will become." I cracked up. I went and saw the band a few more times, and Spyder had told me that the song by Rickie Lee Jones, "Chuck E.'s in Love", was about Chuck. I said, "Oh, that's the Chuck!?"

One lazy mid-morning, the phone rings, and it's Spyder, who was one of the funniest people I had ever known. We hung out for awhile, but later on I found out he was hanging out with Katy Sagal. Anyway, so he says, "Stay on the line and don't say anything." He does a conference call, and gets Chuck on the phone, and the two of them were making phony phone calls, and had me in silent hysterics. I had to muffle the reciever so I could laugh out loud. They did this a few more times to me. Occasionally, I would run in to Chuck around town, and he would look at me and his eyes would narrow, and he would shake his finger at me, and say, "What you mock, you will become." I would laugh, and the last few times I saw him he would just do the eye thing and the finger shake.

Around this same time, I was working in my friend Carolyne's boutique on the Sunset Strip, Cheap Thrills, right next to the famous Schwab's drugstore, were many celebrities frequented, and Shelley Winters held court. An artist friend of mine, had painted the place up all crazy, and we had painted a leopard print on the floor. It was vintage, and punk. We took on some hand-made consignments, one of a kind fashions. One time, Dodd Darin came in. We had made a big collage on the wall behind the register, and on the wall, was a 45 sleeve of a Bobby Darin record. The girl he was with said, "Hey, look, there's your Dad". I looked at the photo, and looked at him, and there was a strong family resemblance. (Also, I had donated the autographed 8x10 of Grouch Marx to the collage, that I had recieved from the evening I spent at Groucho's house with Laraine Newman and Bill Murray. But that's another blog post.) So, you never knew who might walk into the shop.

One day, I was there, and it had been a slow week. My friend was a little concerned. She had been spending time at home with her new baby, so I would fill in a few days a week for her if I didn't have a show to work on. The store was empty one afternoon, and then in walks Rickie Lee Jones! Cool. I greeted her, and she was looking around, and started picking out things to try on. I showed her a few choice items. She went into the dressing room, and everything she tried on looked fabulous on her! One thing after another. I brought her more stuff to try. Even the WAC outfit, which was kind of drab, hugged her voluptuous curves perfectly! After trying on and modeling outfit, after outfit, she piled a bunch of stuff on the counter, and I started ringing it up. Ka Ching! Ka Ching! I bagged up all her stuff, and she left smiling. So was I; she spent hundreds! I excitedly called Carolyne, and said, "You won't believe who was just here! Ricky Lee Jones just bought a shit load of stuff, and everything she put on looked GREAT! Even the WAC suit!" Carolyne was very excited, and laughed, and said, "I knew the right person would come along and get that!" Rickie Lee had made her week.

Party Animal

So my pal Alice and I were out at the Improv, the famous comedy club on Melrose Ave. Being in the comedy world, you were almost always guaranteed to run into someone you know there, or at least a few celebs.

It was busy, and bustling, and Alice spotted Jerry Seinfeld, who she had a big crush on, and he had just finished his set. This was way before "Seinfeld". We went over to him, and he was talking with a few other guys, and I guess he and Alice were acquainted, they chatted a bit, and then he said he had to have a "comedy pow wow", so we left them to their business, and went to drink some wine.

So we are having our wine, and looking around the room. We thought we might hit another place, and Alice mentioned her friend's after hours underground dance club, so that was always an option. It was starting to get a little late, and I spot this guy in the bar.

"Hey, Alice", I said, "isn't that that cute guy from that show "Moonlighting"?"
"Oh, yeah", she said, "I like him".
"Me too", I said. "Let's go kidnap him!"

We walked into the bar, and Bruce was just tossing back the last of his cocktail, or beer, or whatever it was he was drinking, and when his head came back, he looked at us standing next to him.

"Hi", I said. "My girlfriend and I want to kidnap you. We're going to an underground club, want to come?"

He looked at me then at her, and said, "Well, I have some other people with me".

"Bring 'em."

He rounded up his posse; who all called him Bruno. It was his name he used in a band he played in. There were 3 or 4 others, including a couple of girls, and his brother, David. They all went in one car, and Bruce jumped in my car in the front seat between us. I had a Maverick with a bench seat. He settles himself in between us, and points at Alice and says, "You, are pretty darn cute." He then turned to me, and points to me and said, "And you are exactly cute." Driving away from the Improv, through West Hollywood, he had Russian Hands and Roman Fingers with the two of us.

"Hey, I'm driving!", I said, and waved his hand away. We headed toward Sunset and Vine, to a old auto repair garage on a side street. We found parking, and as we walked by the Cinerama Dome theater, Bruce steps up to the wall in the front foyer area outside of the theater, unzips his pants, and relieves himself!

We get to the garage, and could hear the music throbbing within. The posse met up with us. Alice got all six of us in. We all danced in, and danced together in a big group, to one great song after another, and did not stop for, oh, maybe a couple of hours. Finally, Bruce drenched in sweat, danced closer and shouted, "Let's go up to the house!"

We got back to my car, and winded our way up into the Hollywood Hills. I thought, "Oh, good, maybe we can talk now, and get to know him a little bit". As soon as we got in the house, music was on, champagne was popped, and the guys took all their clothes off and jumped in the pool! David, Bruce's brother, asked us girls if we wanted a t-shirt to wear in the pool. I thought that was nice and considerate of him. He took us into the bedroom, and pulled out t-shirts for all of us to wear. Once in the pool, Bruce was going around to everyone, and pouring champagne in their mouth, and whooping and hollering. It was all very fun and funny, and the guys were all cutting up, and jumping in and out of the pool. We were all having a great time.

After a while, I realized, this guy is never going to stop! I'm never going to be able to sit down and talk to him. He did not stop jumping around and hooting and hollering the whole night! I was getting tired, and the sun was starting to come up. Pumpkin Time.

"Come on, Alice," I said, "I think I'm ready to go. You can stay, but I want to go." She decided to come too. So we dried off and got back in our clothes, and started to say our "Thank yous and Good-byes, and as we were making our way to the door, Bruce jumps out of the pool, naked, dripping wet, runs past us, and bars the door with his wet, naked body.

"No, don't go! You can't go yet!" We just stood there looking at him.

"It's late, we're tired, the sun is coming up", we kept saying. He would't let us out.

"We can do it again", I said, "here, we'll give you our numbers, and we fished out a pen and paper from purses, and wrote down our phone numbers.

"Ok, bye! See you later!" We made a move for the door. Then, he wouldn't let us leave until we shook "little Bruce" good-bye! We looked at each other.

It was late. We were tired. The sun was coming up. He wouldn't move from the door. What's a girl to do?


Epilogue

We got out the door.

A few days later, Alice and her roommate partied with them again. Even though I was on a real date, and couldn't go, I was still jealous when I heard. (Her roommate made it with David)

A few weeks later, I see a tabloid with a big front page story about Bruce Willis' wild parties, and how all the neighbors were complaining. Damn. Those front page stories are big bucks!

Less than a year later, I see in the tabloids, Bruce Willis married Demi Moore.

Many years later, I am talking with my friend who writes for the tabloids, and got on the subject of Bruce Willis,and she starts telling me this story about how these two girls took Bruce from the Improv and had a wild night of partying!
"Uh, that was me," I said. "You mean you heard about it from someone else!?" "Oh, yeah, it was going around", she said. "That was you? I had no idea!"

Yep,that's me. Hollywood Party Girl.

Bill, Meet Robin, Robin, Meet Bill

Around the time I was in The Groundlings, there were many other improv groups sprouting up all over LA. I wanted to see what the other groups were up to, and so I would go to some of their performances, and if they offered them, would take a couple of classes.

One of the companies I went to see, was called Off The Wall. I remember everyone in the show was pretty good, but then one guy came onstage, and he was like the Tasmanian Devil of comedy, a human tornado, that blew everyone else off the stage. I remember thinking, "WHO IS THAT?" So quick, so clever, what is he going to do next? After the show, we stayed around to chat with the cast, and found out the guy's name; Robin Williams.
This was pre-Mork, but he already had his trademark rainbow suspenders with an assortment of pins attached to them. Very cute, I thought.

When I went to the class, Robin came over to me and picked me up, and twirled me around. I guess he kinda liked me. We got friendlier, and I invited him to the Warner Bros. lot where I was working in the casting department. We had lunch, and walked around the leafy, campus-like setting of the buildings, and sat down on the grass. He was very different off stage. Quiet and shy.

Another time, we went to one of the trendy West Hollywood restaurants, Joe Allen, where all the actors and comedy people went, but the hub bub of our surroundings soon faded into the background, as we looked across the table at each other. Both our eyes were like pinwheels.
"It's exciting, being here with you like this", he said. I felt the same.

There were a few more meetings, and one time he came over to my apartment. We realized we lived 2 blocks from each other. It was just after the Off the Wall show, and we visited for a couple of hours and he said he had to go. He had another show to do! What!?
"Why, I said, you just did one." "Have to", was his reply. Sometimes he would do three shows a night, in three different places. (That's how ya do it, folks, in case you were wondering)

Around this same time, my friend from the Groundlings, Laraine Newman, was visiting from New York. She was hired from our show to be in the very first cast of Saturday Night Live. We were all so proud, and excited for her. She came home frequently to visit, and we would get together, and one time she brought with her, the new guy, Bill Murray.

She said he said to her, he wanted to meet a real nice girl.

So, Laraine, her boyfriend, and Bill and I went on a double date. And what a strange one it was.

We ended up being invited by a high school pal of hers over to a relative's house of his, who happened to be Groucho Marx. The house was one of those wild, over the top, mid-century modern places, that are all the rage now. We were in the den, partying, and I got up to use the restroom. As I came out, there was Bill down the hall, and he motioned for me to come over to a door that was cracked open. We peaked in. There was Groucho, in bed sleeping, with a huge oxygen tank by the side of the bed, and a nurse sitting there, reading! We looked each other with eyes wide, and mouths dropped open, thought balloons over our heads saying, "Can you believe it!?" and we tip toed back to the den.

We went out a couple more times, and I have to say, he is one of the funniest people I have ever been around. Non stop hilarity, pretty much. He would have this running commentary going about everything. He had just been cast on SNL, so he was not quite yet famous. I remember people would come up to him and say, "Don't I know you from somewhere, didn't we go to such and such school together?", and he would just say, "No, I didn't go there".

One night, Bill and I ended up at yet another hip, trendy restaurant, where all the actors and comedy people hung out, Theodore's. (The Groundlings had their own room there!) and I see Robin! So, I said, "Oh, I there's someone I know, let's go say HI, so we went over, and I introduced them.
They both seemed to be aware of the other,("Oh, yeah, you, oh Hi, yeah, Hi") but they had not officially met.

Soon after that, Robin's phone calls stopped, and I later heard he was getting married. Bill and I saw each other, a couple more times, when we both worked on "Where The Buffalo Roam", then I didn't see or hear from him for awhile.

I would run into him again, a couple years later, when I worked background on "Ghostbusters". I was working in a scene, outside the Biltmore Hotel in downtown LA, and I hadn't seen him yet, and didn't know if I should say something to him, or not, in case he didn't recognize me, but he jumped out of the Ghostbustermobile, and ran over to me and picked me up and twirled me around! Later, when I was talking with him in his motorhome, he told me he was going to be getting married.

They were both fleeting flings, at a time when the heavens were positioned just right, and there I was, witnessing two shooting stars.
I don't know if they remember that night, but I sure do.

My Night in Jail

The summer of my 21st birthday, I had gotten cast in a theater group that did musicals in Big Bear Lake, California. A resort town, up in the mountains, 2 hours outside of Los Angeles. I was very excited to be doing this because not only do I love all the old Broadway musicals, I would be able to add some summer stock to my thin resume. I took some singing and dance classes several weeks before rehearsals began to get in shape. I called my agent to tell him the good news, thinking he would be happy for me getting this experience. I was surprised that he was pissed because I was taking myself out of the marketplace for the busy summer. Couldn't go on auditions. I wanted to do it anyway.

We were set to do, "Fiddler on the Roof", "Annie Get Your Gun", and "The Sound of Music", which we never got to, because the whole company fell apart before that could happen. Yes, it was that dysfunctional, crazy and chaotic, but we laughed it all off because we were a bunch of young people away from home for the summer up in the mountains, having a blast!

We rehearsed one show in the day time, under the pine trees, on the lawn behind the big ski lodge. In the evenings, we performed the other show, while patrons dined on mexican food on the outdoor patio. It was a lovely setting.

The company was run by a chubby gay guy, who directed and choreographed. We called him Twinkletoes. His chubby tomboyish sister had the lead in "Fiddler", and her girlfriend played the piano.

The girls were put up in a small motel, 3 or 4 to a room, in 3 rooms. It was a bit crowded, but we didn't mind, we were hardly there. The guys were all staying in a 100 year old miner's cabin, that didn't have running water, so they had to come shower at our place in the morning.

After the shows, we'd usually hang out in the little bar of the ski lodge, and party with Gary, the tall, lanky, gay, alcoholic bartender I had a crush on. He later became Frank Butler in "Annie", because the actor who was cast left. Later, the kid who was doing the lights, who never acted in his life, took on a small role when another actor bailed. A new girl showed up, to replace someone else who had left, and she was telling us how she had a tough decision, because she was hired to work in the new Electrical Parade at Disneyland. We all said, "GO! Go back, if you can still do it, go back!!" The next morning, the director was rather puzzled as to why his new cast member suddenly left.

One night after the show, we went back to our motel, and we had noticed there was a new cute neighbor guy. So we invited him over, and he came over with a bag of pot. Oh Boy! So there was him, and about 6 or 8 girls. Guess he figured, those were some pretty good odds. So, the small room filled with smoke, and the laughter and the music got louder, and I guess it was pretty loud, because after awhile, there was some very loud knocking on the door. THE COPS!!! Everybody scattered. Someone jumped out a window on the other side of the room. I jumped in a closet. Two girls had gone to their room to get a pipe, and when they saw what was going down, stood down. We were all rounded up, and I was pulled out of the closet. We were hand cuffed and put into the police car, and driven to the little mountain police station and booked. The charge was being in a place where marijuana was being smoked.

I went through a range of feelings, at first I thought it was funny, then I started to get a little scared, and then I was mad. I heard the cops in the hallway, talking about the one guy with all those girls, like he was some sheik and his harem, or the leader of the next hippie murder cult.

They let us languish in cells alone, laying on the cot with just the mattress ticking, no sheets or blanket, with the stark bare bulb burning all night long. I couldn't sleep, and was getting very despondent. I wanted my Mommy.

In the morning, Gary, the tall, lanky, gay, alcoholic bartender that I had a crush on, came and bailed us out, and then took us all out for breakfast. Boy, were we hungry! As we walked into the little homey, small town coffee shop, all of the customers turned to look at us. "Oh, they all know what happened", Gary said. "News travels fast around here". Outlaw celebrities, we were.

That night, the show was packed. Before the show started, we looked out into the audience, from behind the sets, and there we saw, sitting in the front row, all the cops that had busted us!