The Hollywood Tour Bus

Sandi is gone for the week and I am by myself for awhile. She is always up before me to bring in the morning paper. That's up to me for the next few days.

So yesterday I slowly wake up, throw on an old bathrobe that looks a little like a bad ceremonial cape Gandolf wouldn't wear and head out to get the Times. I haven't had my coffee yet and my appearance would scare small dogs and children.

The street in front of our house is one of the only streets that goes straight through from Magnolia to Ventrua Blvd. It's a short cut that saves a lot of time for those who know about it. It doesn't get excessive traffic but enough to have speed bumps installed. One of those bumps is right in front of my drive which means most cars slow way down just at that point.

I bend over to pick up the paper when a Hollywood Star Tours bus slows down for the bump, it almost comes to a complete stop right in front of my house. I am at that moment effectively mooning the bus that takes "out of towners" to see where the stars live.

Now, my street is not a tourist destination and it is too early for an actual tour. Although I can't see through the windows I assume it is empty. Most probably the bus driver was just cutting through to get to his destination to start his day. But it made me laugh. I stand up straighten my medevial garb and waved like I was Miss America on the pagent run way.

I thought about my appearance out there in the drive and it reminded me of a line from the act of my comic friend Ralph Achilles. It goes like this: "Do you know why old men have their pants hiked way up high and wear house shoes to the hardware store? (Insert... dress like a bad wizard) Because they aren't trying to get lucky, they're just trying to be comfortable and keep their pants up."

Well, I guess that's me... I'm not trying to get lucky... I'm just going to get the paper. I hate to think it has anything to do with my age. I'm still 32 in my mind.

I have to go to the Home Depot now, so I need to find those comfortable house shoes.

As you were,
Jay

Cy Brinson

Before she changed her name to Cy she was Cindy Brinson to me. We both came from Dallas and her Uncle was my older Brother's boss during his college days.  Cindy was a singer and a piano player and we both ended up in Houston working for the Astroworld live show department after college.  When I reported to rehearsal in the Summer of 1971 Cindy was my only friend.  She was now married to Trey Wilson whom I would come to admire as one of the most talented people I have ever known.

I remember distinctly one evening as we left rehearsals Cindy said to me, "This is going to be a great summer.  Sandi Asbury said working with you was going to be a blast."  

"Sandi.. the beautiful dancer said that?"  I replied in astonishment.  I had an immediate crush on Sandi but had no idea she even knew I was in the cast.  I suddenly thought I might have a chance with her. Turns out a year later Sandi and I were married. (by the same preacher who married Cindy and Trey)

Cindy played the piano during the five shows a day we did at the Crystal Palace.  She was the one who observed every show and every prank we played first hand.  Some of the time we were doing things on stage just to crack Cindy up.  She had the greatest smile.

Cindy even went with Sandi and a group of University of Houston performers on a USO tour for two months the Christmas before we were married. Sandi and I lived in Houston for a couple of years and saw Cindy and Trey on a regular basis.

Cindy stayed in Houston as Sandi and I left for Hollywood.  Most of the kids from the USO tour were making their way to the coast to pursue show business. Cindy stayed and became a highly acclaimed jazz musician jumping head first into her music.  She changed her name when she and Trey were divorced. 

We would hear rumors about Cy Brinson and her popularity in Houston, but eventually lost touch personally. Typical show business, you meet, you laugh, you love and you leave. Friends forever even if you never see them again. 

A year ago I got an email from Cy Brinson it was out of the blue after 40 years of radio silence.  It was a long letter catching up on what she had been doing for these last decades.  The story included a incident during a tour her group was playing in Russia.  It seems that two of the guys in her group were gay.  As she and the two guys were walking back to their Hotel after dinner one night, they were attacked by some homophobic Russian bullies.  They beat up the two gay men severely and when Cy went to help, the hoodlums threw her to the sidewalk where she hit her head on the curb.  As it turned out she was hurt more seriously than the guys but she didn't know it at the time.  

After experiencing head aches and sever anxiety she went to her Doctor back in Texas.  He concluded that the injury to her head had damaged her brain severely, and these headaches and depression were symptoms of that incident.  There was nothing to be done but prescribe medications to help with the side effects.

Her letter went on to say that she went to a family cabin in the woods to recuperate and basically became a hermit. There she developed even more symptoms.  She became agoraphobic and could not be in a crowd of more than three people. She lost all interest in the piano and singing but developed hypergraphia, a condition that caused her to write and drawn compulsively.  She was either writing or drawing the entire time she was awake each day. She finished several books and hundreds of paintings.  She had come through that phase and was now reaching out to reconnect with her old friends.  We continued to email back and forth.  She became a fan of my blog commenting occasionally and that is the way it was until about 5 months ago.

That's when I got a friend request from Cy Brinson on FaceBook. I quickly accepted and directed her to some of her other friends I knew were on Facebook.  Over these last few months she posted pictures of herself and her art work and old black and white photos from the USO tour.  It was great to be back in touch with Cy... Cindy.  I thought this was perhaps the best use for Facebook, a person who wants to reconnect with old friends but could not be with more than three of them at a time in real life.  All of us were so happy to be back in touch with Cy.  It seemed like an empty space in our hearts had been restored.  

Last week in an effort to think about my own spiritual leanings I wrote a blog on my idea of Life Eternal. Cy wrote a comment:  

Cy Brinson Your timing was perfect for me today. Thank you. Thank you. Did I say, "Thank you?"

April 10 at 7:46am · Unlike · 1

The thumbs up "like" was mine.  It was the last communication we had. A week later (last Saturday morning) she took her own life breathing helium until she went to sleep and never woke up. The official cause of death was self inflicted suffixation. It was planned in every small detail and she left a letter to all of us to "explain". In fact, the reaching out to all her old friends and joining Facebook was part of that plan.  We didn't know she was saying good bye. 

Her best friend said  "In Cy's world Saturday (the day she died) was a great day." 

It was the depression that finally got her.  That feeling of hopelessness that never goes away in spite of any happy circumstances.  She said she could not cope with it any more. In her letter she said, "It is difficult when people all around you say, you seem so happy.  You don't seem depressed."  She made the analogy that is was like treading water as hard as you can in the ocean just to keep from drowning and people on a passing cruise ship see you out there.  They smile and wave and assume you are having as good of a time as they are.  It is the classic dismissal most people give to depression.

It is very hard on those who "knew her when" to reconnect with her only to have that connection severed so quickly.  Music, Art, Literature, Laughter and happiness have all taken a huge hit with her exit.  The event that caused her so much anguish was the result of cruel intolerance and violence, two ideas that Cy most certainly did not indulge in. A beautiful friend, who was a loving and kind soul. It is tragic on so many levels.

We all miss you Cy/ Cindy,

Jay

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Horny Stories

You are probably reading this for all the wrong reasons. This is another story from the Horn, the club I mentioned yesterday. (Find porno stories other places on the net).

I was green from Texas when I landed at the Horn. I was trying to figure out how to entertain the audiences that came there. Half jaded show biz types, the other half tourist who heard this was the place to see great talent in LA.
With enough regularity to make me question my abilities, the same thing would happen on different occasions. Ric would introduce me. "Here is a new kid. One of the best ventriloquists you will ever see. Welcome Jay Johnson..."  Play on music... I walked on stage. At that very moment 20 people sitting different places in the club would get up in unison and walk out.

"Just a case of ventrilo-phobia," I would tell myself to sooth my damaged ego.   Those waiting to get in the club would fill the room back up and the set seemed to go well. Better each night as I adjusted material.
But it happened enough to make me really question the art form I had chosen to make a career of.  It always stung to see the mass exodus when my name and the word ventriloquist was mentioned.

This was not an issue at the places I worked in Texas, but this was the big time and I wondered if I really could work as an LA comic. I knew I was walking a high wire and could fall at any moment. I kept it too myself hoping Ric would not notice the exodus and fire me.

One night I got there early and while I standing in the empty room, the bartender asked Ric, "how many crawlers do we have tonight?" Ric looked at a piece of paper and said, "Tonight we have uh.... 18."
"Crawlers?" I said, thinking it was a professional show biz term.
"That's the bus tour. They go to five bars in LA on a given night. They call it the Hollywood Pub Crawl Tour."
"Pub Crawl" I said.
"Yeah you must have seen them here. They stay from 9:00 to 10:00, and then move on to the Fox and Hound on Wilshire."
"I wasn't aware."
"You must have seen them get up and leave together."
Inside my head there was an audible "boing" as I grasp what I had just heard.
The two comedy spots happened at 10:00 and 11:45. If I was doing the early set, the 20 people were not walking out on me, they were just exiting to get on the bus and move to the next pub.
I made it in the business at that moment.  I was an LA comic and my job was secure. I was assuming the exodus was all about me and my act. There could be no other logical explanation in the self-centered world of an LA comic.
Later that year I was cast in Soap. ABC casting executives had seen me perform at the Horn, so when I went in for my screen test it was just a formality.
As you were,
Jay

Congratulations Darci Lynne Farmer - Winner

I remember in college there was a producer from Vegas who contacted me to be in one of his review shows.  He described ventriloquism as a "Dying art".  We didn't come to an agreement for me to do that show.  As it turned out his style of show was the dying art. His empire of what we called the 'tits and feathers' show was soon to be surplaned by Cirque du Sole shows.  

It seems that most of my career people have been looking at what I do as a relic from the corpse of vaudeville.  My response to the idea that ventriloquism was a "dying art" has always been:  Art never dies as long as there are artists around to perform/produce it.  Hopefully the AGT win (third ventriloquist in the shows history to come in first) for Darci Farmer will put to rest the idea that ventriloquism is going anywhere but up.  

It is not that Darci is just a wonderfully talented girl, nor that her ventriloquism technique is near perfect, and her singing chops could stand alone with out the puppet assistance; it is that Darci seems to understand the long history and tradition that she has now become a part of.  Her dedication to the art and her young spirit will influence a generation of belly talkers to come. And the fact that Darci's  win was not overshadowed by others claiming intellectual property "borrowing" makes the win all that more exciting for us vents.  

While Darci recovers from her Cinderella moment they are unveiling Jeff Dunham's star on Hollywood Blvd. this very morning, and Terry Fator continues his record breaking run at the Mirage.   

The unseen part of this universal interest in ventriloquism is the fact that Darci accomplished her win in a somewhat old fashion way.  Besides the hard works that Darci put in (only another vent knows exactly how many hours it takes to do what she did) but more traditionally, Darci was mentored one on one by another master ventriloquist.  Gary Owen was the maven in this case with help from others especially Dan Horn. (Both Members of the Vent Haven Museum Advisory Board).  In Darci's opening routine "Summertime" there was a moment where Petunia covered Darci's mouth when she tried to highjack the song.  In that moment I saw the inspiration of Dan Horn.  I think every artist knows the defining stokes of other artists they admire.  

So what does all this mean for the art of ventriloquism? Well, there is no doubt that it will continue to "trend" for awhile.  Any verntriloquist who performs will be asked if he/she has seen or knows Darci. Darci will continue to grow as a performer and artist and if she wants a life in the business we call "show", she certainly will have more interesting choices.  Based on the number of votes she got there are many people who will be interested in seeing what she does next.  

Now, here is my pitch to all who have interest in this ventriloquist blog conversation.  I'm talking to all you voters who voted up to ten times after three separate performances to put Darci over the top.  Share some of that energy,  help preserve this Art of Ventriloquism.  Donate to the Vent Haven Museum building fund.  It is obvious Vent Haven needs a new wing to accommodate Darci's legacy, but more than that; the museum that houses the worlds most complete history and knowledge of ventriloquism,  should be world class.  As wonderful as our virtual world can be for us vents there is no web tour, video or picture that can tell the story of ventriloquism.  Ventriloquism is a live, oral art which is tangible and tactical. It needs to be experienced live. A Museum is the place to keep such treasures to be protected, preserved and presented.  Let's invest in the future of kids like Darci who see the world through their own imagination and not through the device of a hand held screen.  If everyone sent a dollar to the Vent Haven Building Fund for every vote they cast for every AGT Ventriloquist (all three winners and a finalist) then Vent Haven would be ready to construct its historical space.

I've never been very good at soliciting money.  I've also never had an over abundance of money to give to the causes I want to support.  But maybe someone reading this knows that game better than me.  

While people are talking about ventriloquism, continue that conversation and tell people about Vent Haven, and ask them to donate.  Do it quickly before the conversation turns unavoidably back to politics.  I think we all need something more interesting to direct our attention.  I'm sayin' there should be bipartisan support for preserving these "silent partners" at Vent Haven.

Way to go Darci, and high fives to the Team Darci as well.

As you were,

Jay 

Go here and learn more and donate

 

Commercials

This is a Churches Fried Chicken commercial I did it the 80's.

I don't know how it is today but back then you did the commercial for scale and were paid based on the number of times and markets it was played.  If it was a national commercial and played a lot then you could make some serious cash. This shoot had a twist that I didn't see coming.

It was a fun day, the crew was great, so I was kidding around with Bob. Churches was in direct competition to McDonalds McNuggets as the dialogue implies. During one of the breaks, for benefit of the crew and director, Bob started going off on McDonalds. He joked about their CEO being a clown named Ronald, he questioned that there was actual chicken in McNuggets. The more the crew laughed, the more extreme Bob and I got. I wasn't paying any attention to what we were saying as long as we were getting crew laughs. (note: for me crew laughs are the best. If you can get a jaded Hollywood film crew to crack up it is a better feeling than almost anything). What I didn't know is that on one of my longer "rolls" with Bob the camera was still rolling.  They had my McDonald rants on film. The director said that they wanted to use some of the "outtakes" for a Churches advertising meeting would it be okay with me.  I casually said, "Sure if it is not going anywhere else."

On a break my agent called to see how it was going.  I told her what fun we were having and that Bob and I had gone off on McDonalds. There was a long silence followed by "What? Do you mean 'go off'?" I explained remembering then some of the jokes we had made at McDonalds expense. 

I proceeded to get a lecture from the agent on what a bad idea that was.  What if McDonalds got a look at the film,  they do tons of advertising and that would insure that they would never hire me. In today's world when film can go viral on the Internet it would have been an even  bigger deal. The agent said she would call the producers to get restrictions on the usage.  For the rest of the day Bob and I were better behaved toward McDonalds.

As it turned out the producers and the ad agency loved the adlib stuff as much as the commercial copy. They wanted to incorporate it into their presentation to Churches, and maybe use it at their next corporate meeting. The agent went back and forth with them and eventually negotiated the restricted use along with a payment to me at my "industrial film" rate. (I didn't know I had an industrial film rate, but that is why you have and agent).

I made a lot of money for the commercial with residuals as it played for the next year, but I made almost that much up front for my "industrial film" contributions.  All in all it was a the most profitable day on a set I have ever spent, and some of the most fun. 

Seven years later McDonalds hired me to do their "industrial tour".  It was at the time the cherry job of corporate shows, 12 cities and 24 shows. I never found out if they saw the film where I roasted them on camera for Churches, really didn't want to know. If Churches followed my agents demands the industrial film was destroyed after it was used once.

As you were,

Jay

Paying Respects

Thanks to Bryan Simon for snapping this photo in Hollywood last week.  After dining at Musso and Franks and taking the mandatory tour of the Chinese Theatre, I paused with Jimmy Nelson at the star of Edgar Bergen.  Mr. Bergen has a really good "Star" position on the Blvd.  He is right in front of the Kodak Theatre.  I would guess that the stars who show up for the Academy Awards this year will have to either walk on the star or right by it for this year's award ceremony.  As it is for real estate it is for fame, Location, Location, Location.
Bryan and Marge gave me a disk full of pictures they had taken. It didn't dawn on me that all the ones that I took did not have me in the frame. Nice to be included in the wonderful company.
There is an artistic shot that Bryan took that is clearly my favorite.  I will publish it soon when I have a chance to write about it.
What a great day with a really great man.
As you were,
Jay

We have a month off from the Two and Only. I am back working at my regular job, which is looking for regular jobs. That of course is a joke. I have never had a regular job in my life. Even what I consider a job is working with a doll, so you wouldn’t label that “regular”.

The writer’s strike is essentially over. Los Angeles is getting back to the over indulgence it is known for. Writers can write again, the Academy Awards are saved and all is right in the plastic world. Unfortunately some writers that weren’t writing before the strike will now have to say, “I’m unemployed,” rather than “I’m on strike.”

At Highland and Hollywood, the site of the Kodak Theater, there is an Oscar exhibition advertising the up and coming ceremony. Several vintage Oscars are on display as well as some of the statues that will be given away in a few weeks. One of the most interesting is a miniature Oscar that was given to Judy Garland when she was a child star. It is about half the size of a regular Oscar. As if to say, child actors are half as important. They show the process of making the Oscar statue, and list the names of all the nominees with their pictures.

At the end of the tour there is an Oscar statuette that you can actually pick up and hold for a picture. Over the weekend I was in line with Nicki and Jeff, my niece and her husband, who work in the film industry, cueing up to hold the statuette. I asked, “Wonder if the same curse holds true with the Oscar Statue as the Tony?” They didn’t know the legend, so I told them. The Tony legend says that if you ever hope to win a Tony, you can never touch a Tony until it is yours. They said they had never heard that before.

No one said anything. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement. We just got out of line and avoided touching the Oscar. There’s no sense screwing with curses and legends. I doubt I will ever be a candidate for receiving an Oscar. Five years ago I would have said that about the Tony, so you never know. However, I think some day I may get to hold Nicki and Jeff’s Oscar. Until then I will be satisfied.

As you were,
Jay

My Sister-In-Lust

Sandi's bother Cleve was 12 years old when I married into the Asbury family.  We sort of grew up together. Cleve was the little brother that I never really wanted, but you can't have a better brother in law.

I was best man at his wedding to  Donna Marie Elio, at which time she became my Sister-in-lust.  It has been my pet name for her since we met. 

After their marriage they lived about 10 minutes from us.  They helped us move into our Encino house.  We shared box seats at the Hollywood Bowl, we celebrated every holiday and special moment together. Donna was out of town for the Northridge Earthquake, but Cleve huddled with my family at our house, the neighbors house and his house to ride out the frightening aftershocks for a week. 

We took their daughter Jacqueline to see Cleve and Donna perform Lumiere and Belle together in the Los Angeles production of "Beauty and the Beast". We eventually adopted their dog Smooch... So you get the picture: Cleve, Donna and Jacq are close close family, but my evaluation of my sister-in-lust as a performer is not blinded by mere love.

Donna is one of the most talented people I know. She acts, dances, sings and compels you, all in a beautiful package to look at.  I am delighted to be in her family and in her orbit.  She was my tour guide when I was on Broadway. She knows everyone and everyone loves her. We got to meet between shows and talk theatre. In fact a poster for Chicago with Donna's picture prominently  and sensually displayed graced the outside the artists entrance to my theatre. Her picture was the last thing I saw every night when I went to work on Broadway.  It was a wonderful time. 

Her career has spanned decades because she started on stage as a child.  Her resumé of shows is staggering, and she has done Chicago on Broadway for 12 years after touring in the show for a couple of years before that.  She has played every female lead in the show, the only actress to have ever done so, and she has raised a beautiful daughter with Cleve.  To make a living on Broadway, be in a long running hit and have a normal family life with a great marriage and great kid is an unbelievable accomplishment.

And now she is "Broadway's Gypsy of the Month.  Donna Marie Asbury: Gypsy of the Month.  It is not a surprise to me but it is certainly time that rest of Broadway acknowledged her.

So.....Here is a toast to my sister-in-lust. Congrats on this honor, we could not be prouder, nor love you more.  Have one of those Blood Orange Vodka drinks that Cleve makes so well and celebrate.  We will do the same together soon. 

As you were,

Jay

Back to Show Biz

No political injustices outed.  No religious philosophy or devotion discussed, just a story about "the BIZ".

I find that I have come to that point in my career (perhaps my life) when remembering and writing about an experience is almost better than having to do it.  Like yesterday.

This is not to say that it was not fun, I had a blast, there was no pressure no stress but the reality of creating illusion is sometimes a chore.  

Hallmark Channel's show, Home and Family honored Robert Guillaume yesterday.  They gathered as many of his former co-stars from the two series he starred in as were available, and several others there via video clip to honor him. The retrospective on Robert's career in show business was concluded as Robert (Benson) Guillaume was given the "Hollywood Appreciation Award".

Those present in the Universal studio/house that is the set included, Katherine Helmond, Robert Mandan, Rene Auberjonois, Jay Johnson and Bob (me... or more accurately US) along with the dozen or so co-hosts that live in the Home and Family house.  Ted Wass, Jennifer Salt, Dianna Canova, Missy Gold and Billy Crystal made breif appearances via video messages.  They had gathered relative clips from Benson and SOAP in scenes we had done together years ago with Guillaume.  The show was heavy on SOAP clips although Benson was only on that show for two seasons while starring in his own spin off - Benson for seven years.  

Both of those shows were aired in the late 70's through the 80's.   Although it doesn't seem possible, mathematically that works out to be 38 years ago.  Time and age are very dysfunctional companions.  Thirty- eight years ago, when I was working with Robert Guillaume, I was in my late twenties.  It would be another decade before I would actually be 38 years old. Now, that is half of my life span ago.  Looking back is always a shorter trip than contemplating the future.  

SOAP had a younger cast which averaged around my age and an older cast that, well, were older. The older actors, playing our folks, were in their late 40's and early 50's at the time.  They were seasoned veterans of stage, screen and television.  They were the ones we looked to for the guidance of experience through uncharted show business waters.  It is strange to realize that I am older now than they were when we worked together.  This is especially true when this time machine of video clips transports you back to those days. There is nothing as humbling as having a split screen of yourself today looking at work you did almost 4 decades ago. I'm not sure I wish that experience on anyone. 

So here I am sitting on a couch in a fake home on the Universal Studio back lot, attempting to recreate the title shots of SOAP. I remember the original shot like it was yesterday, but today is very different from then.  My adult friends, my mentor actors and leaders shuffled on to the set in wheel chairs with walking canes and physical help.  Katherine Helmond, who was never a tall lady, seems so much shorter than my memory of Aunt Jessica Tate. Robert Mandan would no longer play the dashing philandering overstuffed Armani suite wearing Chester Tate, he would be cast as the grandfather today.  Robert Guilliaume has mostly recovered from a stroke many years ago, but he times his Wit a little more slowly and with limited physicality. I know they are all in their 80's now.  I could have looked up an exact age for each, but why would it matter anyway. This present moment is all that really matters. There have been so many from the cast who have died, it was thrilling to just be around the ones still here. 

Rene Auberjonois looks the same to me.  I have seen him more often over the last few years.  He was the only one there to represent the Benson Show family. He was just back from a trip to Australia, and that is a literal  fact.  He was jet lagged and fried. His plane landed two hours before his call time on the set. He was repeating the same calendar day in his life as he landed the day before he took off from down under.  It is another example of how time seemed to be an irrrelevant mash up, but more importantly it speaks to the trouble freinds would go through just to honor our friend Robert. 

It was one of the hottest days of the year in drought stricken Los Angeles but with a heavy dose of hummidity to make it sticky and uncomfortable. It was also the day the airconditioning failed to come on at the Johnson hacienda.  I took one shirt to wear and one to change into for the show.  Both were dripping wet the moment I put them on. 

The set for Home and Family is an actual house, well an actual movie house. It looks like the real thing except when you look up there is no ceiling nor attic. That space is filled with lights, grids for more lights, microphones and tiny airconditioning ducts that are totally ineffective against the heat from outside and the furnace blast created by the movie lights.  Even though I just put on my jacket for the takes, I had the look of a drowned New York subway rat washed up after Hurricane Sandy.  The makeup team resembled plate spinners as they ran from person to person trying to mop up and powder sweaty faces.  None of the faces seems to be as sweaty as mine.  I kept remembering that old show biz chestnut... "never let them see you sweat" - it was an impossible task to accomplish that day.  

I longed to be in a studio on the Universal Lot with fake walls, fake landscape back drops with tons of room and 30 degrees cooler than this "house". As I looked out the real window at real landscaping, on camera it looked very little different from a well painted back drop. It was hot and tight.  Along with a large regular cast, five guests (with at least one extra person to help them), gaffers, camera operators, cable pullers, sound men, stage managers, prop men, makeup ladies, segment producers wardrobe people and the set decorating crew there were maybe a hundred people crowded into a very warm crowded space.  There were even some shots outside in the yard and on the patio, so the doors needed to be open for cables.  I resorted to standing in a closet that had been converted into the sound department, just to get out of the way.  It was cozy, along with RF receivers, extra sound boards, microphones and cable there were three people claiming that space as their office.  They understood my interloping and tolerated me for a while.  

The coldest place on the lot was my dressing room trailer.  It was 40 degrees and felt like heaven.  Unfortunately it was parked a block away from the set and I was there no longer than 20 minutes over the course of the three hour shoot.  

Robert Mandan, Katherine Helmond, Robert Guillaume
(Chester, Jessica, and Benson)

They sent a car for me so I didn't have to drive. Thankfully so,  because the driver drove me through an entrance to the back area of Universal that I did not know even existed.  On our journey to the set my car passed by one of the Universal City tour trams loaded with tourists. I could hear the tour guide giving his spiel. The riders strained their necks to see who was in the back of the limo.  One person snapped a picture with an iPhone. Thank goodness the windows were heavily tinted. Their fantasies about who might be in that limo would certainly have been dashed if they had seen who it was in reality.  Once again we all participate in the illusion of fantasy even if I was miscast as the "mystery celebrity in the limo" that day.

It was all over too quickly.  I was also there to promote my DVD "Jay Johnson: The Two and Only" which I am told turned out to be a blurb on the credit line at the bottom of the screen.  It was not the reason for being there, it really was to honor Robert.
I was hot and miserable and knew that my red face was not televising well.  Puppet Bob was in perfect makeup and no shine whatsoever.  He is the poster boy for "never let them see you sweat" he never has.   I am sure that viewers watching at home felt like Bob had certainly held his age a lot better than me.  Just before we all ran for the air conditioning I snapped a quick picture of my friends on the couch. Bob Mandan made a Chester face, Katherine's smile shone as ever it did and with trophy in hand the honoree gave me a trademark sly grin. True Pros.  How lucky I am to work with them, to know them, and still be touched by their friendship.  No one said it out loud, but everyone knew it would probably be the last ever SOAP reunion celebration, I'm sorry that I didn't get a selfie with me and Bob in the picture.  But then again... I don't need a picture.. I have my memories and now have this blog to recall that special moment.  Soon it will not be about how hot it was that day, but how special it was. 

As you were,

Jay

Duh..!

I jump at the chance to go to the Hollywood Bowl with friends, especially if we can snag a box. As luck would have it our friend Monica was singing in a tribute to her dad Henry Mancini last night and she was able get a couple of boxes for us. It was sold out, at 18 thousand or so. And it was a great evening.

Now for those who do not know the bowl, a box seat is a small cubical for four people with a little table to dine on with either waiter service or, as most people do, a picnic brought from home.

The program was a tribute to Henry Mancini and Blake Edwards, good friends and collaborators on many many films. Monica sang the "days of wine and roses" and Mrs. Blake Edwards, Julie Andrews, narrated with the back stories she personally knew about the two honorees. The 88 piece orchestra was conducted by John Williams.

As we made our way through grounds to get to our box there were lots of vendors but instead of the usual tour tee shirts for sale, they were selling light up toy swords. I would have thought this merchandise was meant more for a younger crowd than would come to honor Henry Mancini and Blake Edwards but they seemed to enjoy brisk sales.

The Tribute was the first act, and the second act was the music of John Williams films. Toward the end of this section it all came clear to me. In that moment I grabbed my video to document my revelation.  .

 I was there to see Julie and Monica and pay tribute to two men I actually had met and worked with, But ...of course John Williams wrote the theme music to Star Wars.  A Crowd of 18 thousand people turned into kids waving light sabers in the air.  I looked at Sandi who wondered  as I had about the light up toys for sale when we walked in... we both said... "Well.. Duh... of course" 

As you were,

Jay