MY LAST L.A. DAYS

Published by Rick on Tagged Uncategorized

It became pretty clear about 25 years ago today that things in LA weren’t going to get better, that I wasn’t going to be a comedy star, and on top of that I was being pressured by my dad to give it all up and go back to school and learn some other trade. He even got my brother involved to some degree, convincing him to use some of his doctor’s salary to sponsor me through whatever school I chose to finish my education. My dad was looking at things through his own perspective as a high school dropout who managed to get a Ph D. According to him, the only two times I ever disappointed him were when I dropped out of college and when I got a vasectomy.

I had little argument against such an arrangement, as I was getting by from meagre salaries of being a janitor in a yoga studio (where some of my salary paid into yoga classes), doing phone sales for my dad’s newspaper feature, freelancing as a stage manager for the Zephyr Theatre on Melrose Avenue in Hollywood (more on that below), and oh yea, the occasional spot at either the Laugh Factory or Comedy Store. All those gigs put together helped me pay my bills and stay afloat, but my credit cards were slowly maxing out, plus I was lonely, having gone through my second divorce.

I would get a bit of a reprieve around this time in 2000, as my brother hired me to perform at the reception for my niece’s bat mitzvah. I had an interesting audience to play for, as there were my niece’s friends, all in their early teens, and their parents, and GRANDparents. Somehow I managed to find things that could appeal to all of those age groups, and I got several encores for my efforts. The next day, my brother merely said, “You’re doing exactly what you should be doing, and I wouldn’t want you to give that up,” and handed me a check for $1000.

It would be just two months later that I would have a life change, but the above mentioned stage managing gig, while it didn’t pay much, was an opportunity to see a different side of show biz. By 2000, I had been doing it for six years, having inherited the gig from my then-wife, In most cases, the productions I was stage managing featured actors who were on their way up the ladder, and possessing varying degrees of talent. I do remember one play I stage managed that featured in its cast Dan Castellenata, known as the voice of Homer Simpson. One of the people in the audience for that one was Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart Simpson. I didn’t talk to them a lot, but they were both pleasant.

Actually, a lot of celebs would show up for support, some that I had met before. One time, Lily Tomlin was there with her partner, and we had run into each other many times over the years. We were having a chat during intermission, and the manager of the theatre walked by to tell me there was some work I needed to be doing. I got mad and the guy backed off a little, but it was still a bit humiliating. I also got some flack another time by letting Smokey Robinson in for free, as he was showing up at the last minute and I needed to start the show.

There were some not so wonderful stage moments, mostly because there were quite a few dreadful plays I had to spend a few days rehearsing, usually for only two or three actual performances. One in particular was a supposed comedic insight into the struggling actor syndrome, where one scene had a barrage of sound and light cues. I was having difficulty coordinating them all together, and after 4 or 5 screw-ups, the director came into the sound booth, did the entire segment flawlessly, then said to me, “So what’s the problem?” I said, “Well I didn’t write the fucking play.” He left me alone after that, and in every subsequent run through of that scene, including the actual performances, I didn’t screw up once.

Not to say I didn’t have my share of screw ups. There was a one-man show which had a barrage of sound cues, and one night I did such a horrible job the performer actually broke character to chastise me. There was a time when the sound system went out about ten minutes before the show was going to start, and the director became a total thorn in my side. I somehow managed to fix it in time, but the director chose to hang out in the booth and bad rap the performers. He was a frequent user of the venue, and I had worked with him enough that I actually had his cel phone number. I called him the next day to tell him not to hang out in the booth again.

Overall, it was a fun experience, and the actors were mostly nice people. I even continued doing gigs for the theatre after I had begun working in UK. There’ll be much more to say later this summer, when we commemorate the 25th anniversary of my initial trip that changed my life.

June 6th, 2025



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