Monthly Archives: May 2012

One memory here leads to another. I was writing here the other day about a "crush" I had back around '71 on the actress Paula Prentiss…

I was hardly alone in this and hadn't been since certain of my friends discovered that the cute lady on He and She (a sitcom in desperate need of a DVD release) was undraped in Playboy. In 1970, she appeared with clothing off in the movie version of Catch-22 and the following conversation occurred in a group that included me and some male friends…

"Hey, that movie they made of that book — you know, Catch-22 — opens on Wednesday. We have to go see it."

"Oh, I hated that book. All that war crap and the story jumping around every which way…"

"The movie has Alan Arkin in it. And Bob Newhart and Orson Welles and Jack Gilford…"

"A team of wild horses couldn't drag me into that theater…"

"And Paula Prentiss is in it and I've heard she's naked…"

"What time is the first show?"

"Do you think we oughta go get in line now?"

I remember the conversation but I don't remember who said what. Any of those remarks could have come from any of us, even the friend whose current marriage is not recognized in Southern states. We all hated the book but not nearly as much as we liked the thought of Paula Prentiss ungarmented. About six of us went to the very first screening on the very first day at the National Theater in Westwood.

Ms. Prentiss removes her duds for about thirty seconds about ten minutes into the movie. It would be tacky of me to provide a link to view those sacred moments so for those of you who don't have the twenty seconds it would take to find those thirty seconds via Google, let's just say they did not disappoint. The rest of the film actually was pretty decent but, you know, it's not like they were going to top those thirty seconds.

So the film ended…and none of us left the theater. We all just sat there with the same idea, waiting for one of the other guys to suggest it. Finally, someone (not me) said it out loud: "Hey, let's stay for the next showing and see the first ten minutes again." This was back before home video, back before the Internet, back when no one had heard the term "frame grab." At that moment, we couldn't conceive of any way to ever see those thirty seconds again after we exited except to buy another ticket to see this movie…which would soon disappear from theaters, presumably forever. I mean, they might show Catch-22 on TV some day we figured…but probably not with those thirty seconds.

We decided by unanimous vote to stay for a second look. Then one of us (again, not me) said it would look wrong to sit there, wait until Paula Prentiss got naked again and then get up and walk out. Everyone else in the theater would say, "Wow, look at those horny guys…sitting through the first part of the movie again just to see the nude scene." Which is, of course, exactly what we were planning to do but we were somehow embarrassed to make it so obvious.

Finally, one of us (might have been me) said, "Here's what we'll do. We'll stay and then we'll wait three minutes after Paula's big scene before we leave. Then it won't be so obvious what we're doing." Everyone concurred. Three minutes.

Before long, the next showing began. Before long, Ms. Prentiss was naked again. After the last shot of her like that, we all looked at our watches. Precisely three minutes later, we all got up to leave…

…and so did about forty other males in the theater. We all had the same idea…including the three minutes.

I finally met Paula Prentiss in 2005 at the Memorial Service for her He and She co-star, Hamilton Camp. Despite the fact that at that moment she was 67 years old, mourning the loss of a dear friend and standing right next to her husband of 44 years, I still for about two seconds considered asking her to run off with me. Fortunately, the woman in my life then and now is even cuter so I kept my tongue and as much of my dignity as I ever have.

I can however report that she was quite charming and quite lovely and she did laugh (and "get it") when I told her that I sat through Catch-22 one and one-seventh times.

This is from a gentleman (I assume he's a gentleman, as opposed to a boor) named Jeff Clem…

I had the extreme pleasure of meeting Mr. Dick Cavett in 1986, while I was a Graduate Student/Assistant at a small, liberal-arts college in Nebraska.

He was scheduled to give a presentation at one of our on-campus auditoriums, and once it was announced that he was coming, months before the event, the tickets sold out in a matter of minutes (I think Cavett was from Nebraska, so a large part of that was the "local boy does good and returns to visit his roots" charm, as well as the simple fact that people liked and enjoyed him). Needless to say, I failed to buy any tickets before the sell-out.

I lived in the Faculty apartments on the 2nd floor of one of the classroom buildings, and across the hall from me was the VIP suite where visiting VIPS were put up. A buddy of mine I hadn't seen in awhile was coming to visit me on the day of the night that Cavett was supposed to perform, and for some reason we were standing out in the hallway talking. Down the hallway comes a sweaty, tired Dick Cavett in running shorts, running shoes and tee-shirt; he'd obviously been out jogging. We said "hi" and he said "hi" back and asked us if we'd be at the show that night. I explained about my not being able to buy tickets and he said there'd be no problem; if we'd wait for him to clean up and then walk him over to the auditorium, he'd let us watch the show from the side of the stage, and that is what we did.

We chatted backstage for awhile before the show (he was extremely flattered by Rick Moranis' imitation of him from SCTV — I had to ask, what with me being an SCTV fan). I even helped him put his necktie on! His presentation, as you could guess, was a smashing success. He went to shake hands and sign autographs for his adoring fans after the show and me and my buddy went to the local cocktail lounge to talk about our great fortune of being in the right place at the right time. So, there we are in a dark, cozy lounge, nursing our drinks, when in walks Dick with a couple of the college's "handlers." He sees us, steers towards our table and joins us for drinks (he insisted on paying!). The handlers had no idea who he even was and got frozen out of the extremely fascinating conversation we continued to have with Mr. Cavett into the wee hours before closing hour. Dick was casual, nice, patient, interesting, friendly, etc….

I treasure that experience to this very day and whenever me and my buddy get together, we immediately reminisce about that unexpectedly wonderful evening. I've met other famous people and have had both good and bad experiences doing so, but meeting Dick Cavett is one of the best times I've ever had.

Just thought I'd share this little tidbit with you and your readers. Keep up the good work, Mark, and thanks for letting me share this with you.

We love stories like that. And speaking of impressions of Dick Cavett: Rick Moranis does a great one but the best is done by my pal Frank Welker, who in addition to being the most prolific cartoon voice actor of all time (yes, more than Mel or Daws or even June…) is also by some measures the Number One Box Office Champ of the Nineties in motion pictures — and not far down the list for the decades before or after. I mention this honor so you can get some idea that he's pretty good at what he does.

Back when Frank was a largely-unknown impressionist, he decided to try and get on The Dick Cavett Show during one of its weeks taping in Hollywood. He found out where the local office was and called the producer there, impersonating Cavett. The producer thought it was the star and Frank engaged him in conversation for a minute or so before saying, "Hey, there's this great impressionist I want to book for the show while we're out here. His name is…let me look at this piece of paper I have here…oh. It's Frank Welker."

The producer was making a note to book Frank Welker when Frank decided to drop the impression and say, "Hi, I'm Frank Welker and that was me doing Dick Cavett!" Whereupon the producer yelled, "I knew it was you all the time!" and slammed down the phone.

A day or two later, Frank was in a gas station when he spotted Mr. Cavett. Nervously — because Frank's a pretty shy person as proven by the fact that I can't coerce him into coming down to Comic-Con and making an appearance — he approached Cavett and said, "I do an impression of you." Cavett asked to hear it. Frank did the impression which of course sounds exactly like Dick Cavett. Cavett said, "I think my voice is a little lower" and drove off.

Frank never did the Cavett program. He's since done pretty well for himself in spite of it.