TV or Not TV

I’m a romantic, and it is nice to know I’m not alone.

Nearly 15-years-ago I wore a polyester suit and tie, affixed a pseudo-brass plated name tag and peacock pin to the lapel of the jacket, and led a group of strangers on an $8.50 tour of the NBC studios in Burbank. Affectionately known as the “brown door tour,” most of what tourists saw on any given day were the closed doors of a working TV studio. Being a page is a rite-of-passage in the industry, and leading tours was an integral part of that experience. I used the word “was,” because tours are now in the past tense in Burbank.

Earlier this week a friend and former page posted on Facebook that the tours were coming to an end. Over the last few years NBC has been moving departments onto the Universal Studios facilities, and the historic Burbank studios, once home to The Gong Show, The Midnight Special, and The Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson, are being mothballed. The facility itself has already been sold, and NBC is leasing it back for the duration of the transition. An era in network television has come to an end without fanfare or recognition, and some of us didn’t think that was right.

It turned out, more than a few of us weren’t content to let things end with a whimper. I suggested to fellow former pages that we should join the last tour, soak up the nostalgia, and heckle whatever hapless page had the misfortune of leading us on the tour. However, my idea was not original. I estimated 50 former pages (and romantics) showed up for the ultimate studio tour. People who had worn the polyester back in the 1970s (when it might have been considered fashionable) joined people who had only recently removed it for other entry level positions in the industry. Hundreds of years of Hollywood experience came together — to say goodbye.

The page program, we were reminded, wasn’t going anywhere. But the studio was. This tour represented the last chance many of us would have to set foot on a place that mattered to us. I spent five years, off and on, on the lot. What had once been Carson’s green room was my office for a good chunk of that time. I had a set of keys that opened nearly every door in the building. But more than all of that, I met and was privileged to work with people who had been a part of something creative, innovative, provocative, and entertaining. I have set foot on nearly every Hollywood studio and backlot, but none of them evoked the same feeling as NBC. If it was announced that CBS TV City was shutting down tomorrow, I just don’t think it would matter to me, and I once slept on that lot while working the Jerry Lewis Telethon. As a page I walked the halls of NBC daily; I got to know it better than almost anywhere else I’ve ever lived or worked. Leading tours gave me the opportunity to engage others on the lot, to network, and to transition out of the polyester and into the industry. The page program isn’t going anywhere, but the tours and the studio are. The experience of being a page will be lessened with their absence.

The final tour guide, Ben, did would he could with the loud mouths in the group, and by that I mean me. I probably knew about 15 or so of the former pages, some better than others, but we walked the halls and pointed and gawked at what remained of a once vibrant workplace, now practically a ghost town. We reminisced about the highs and the lows we experienced; some even brought their young children because — try though we might — it just isn’t possible to explain the inner workings of a TV studio to someone who has never seen it up close and personal. We journeyed to the Tonight Show studio, which was not where it should have been, and not hosted by who it ought to be hosted by. We passed the NBC commissary, walked along the virtually empty midway, then back into the main facility.

My one hope on the tour was to sneak into studio one, once home to Carson’s Tonight show (that was the right place and the right host). That hope was realized as we made our way through a side door, and I got to stand one last time where the greats once sang and joked and talked and laughed. Try all you want, you can’t take that away from me. I revere studio one in Burbank much the same way Catholics revere the Vatican. I never met Johnny Carson; he was before my time. But I walked where he walked and I worked where he worked, and I did meet a lot of people who worked with him. Fred DeCordova and Ray Figelski, both no longer with us but their spirit lingers as long as we remember. And even though studio one is now the home to Access Hollywood, those of us who know that building know what was. Try all you want, you can’t take that away from me.

Once we left studio one, my mind was no longer in the present but the past. Memories of things I didn’t think I remembered flooded back into me, people and experiences that don’t deserve to be forgotten. You often hear the word closure and how important it is. At apx. 2:45 p.m. on July 6th, 2012, the ultimate tour of the NBC studios in Burbank concluded. Closure.

I genuinely expected to hate the TV show “House” when it debuted eight years ago. It had all the earmarks of “ER” (which I loathed for its uninspired blandness) and — worse than that — it was a procedural (which I detested). I avoided most of the first season, despite my admiration of Hugh Laurie. Eight years ago, there was enough on TV worth watching that I frankly didn’t need to devote an hour to some lame-ass “CSI: Hospital.”

Oddly enough, it was not Hugh Laurie who sparked my interest in the series. Jennifer Morrison proved to be the show’s salvation. It was near the end of the TV season, everything else I watched was either in reruns or on another day. I flipped through the channels, and there was Jennifer Morrison jogging on a treadmill, tiny beads of sweat covering her body and soaking through her sports bra and tight shorts (didn’t need to rewatch the scene to vividly recall all of that, by the way — some images are everlasting). The episode was “Love Hurts,” wherein Morrison’s character agrees to return to work for House on the condition he agree to go out on a date with her. It was at that moment when I realized this was not just another procedural piece of crap.

The episode that followed featured House addressing medical students, offering three virtually identical diagnostic scenarios (chronic leg pain), comedically flashing back to each of the patients, then twisting the whole story on its ear when it is revealed one of the “patients” was House himself. If “Love Hurts” hooked me with the promise of a hot, brainy chick in a sports bra, “Three Stories” reeled me in.

At its best, “House M.D.” worked when it ignored the diagnostic/procedural moments to focus on character development. The original series of “Star Trek” featured the trio of Kirk, McCoy, and Spock — the perfect external representation of id, ego, and superego. “House M.D.” contained not only the famous triad, but topped the id, ego, and superego off with a witty smart ass. The combination of characters, both guest starring and recurring, made the show enjoyable to watch on a weekly basis.

Then they f*cked it all up.

At the tail end of season three, House’s core team of doctors either quit or were fired. At the start of the fourth season, it was decided to expand the cast with a new group of doctors auditioning to work with House. A lot of people point to the House/Cuddy relationship as the worst decision of the series, but — to me — the destruction of what was a fine bit of on-screen chemistry amongst House, Cameron, Foreman, and Chase was when things started to suffer. The character of House gave all of the new doctors numbers, as did the viewers. This was a mistake on the part of the creative team behind the series, because it signaled how interchangeable and insignificant the new characters were. It was a struggle making it through the fourth season.

The writing in season five improved as the new characters ultimately found their respective voice, but it was the premiere of season six where the show reminded me why I watched in the first place. Hugh Laurie can deliver one-liners with comedic timing because — well — he is a comedian. But to be able to offer a dramatic performance as an addict in a harsh detox facility takes a whole other skillset, and Laurie proved up to the challenge. Toss Andre Braugher into the mix and viewers basically have a stand-alone feature film. Sharp writing, excellent acting, and some poignant moments to remind us that the show is worth watching even without a solid ensemble cast.

Olivia Wilde is a bad actress. There, I’ve said it. She has one bland facial expression which she uses to convey anger, sadness, pain, and lust. Back when “Mystery Science Theater 3000″ did its send-up of Kathy Ireland in “Alien From L.A.,” they remarked she was only capable of expressing “dull surprise” on her face in every scene. The same is true of Olivia Wilde.

Or maybe I’m just ticked that she more-or-less assumed the Jennifer Morrison position and was underwhelming by comparison.

Season seven begat the House/Cuddy relationship which was much maligned by both fans and critics. What I will say about it is this: I just didn’t care. Whereas I liked the flirtation between House and Cameron (mainly because I liked the idea of a woman that hot going for a brooding cynic), whether or not House and Cuddy hooked up held no interest to me. Their love scenes held no interest to me. Their break-up held no interest to me. That said, the seventh season had some fun moments; it was certainly better than the agony of the fourth season.

Overall the series is better than any other procedural on TV, with the possible exception of NCIS (which also includes a stellar cast of characters and is more than it appears to be). I am one of those people who can get hooked on a show. I can still quote entire scenes of “Moonlighting” from memory (my rendition of the “mole on his nose” exchange is almost as good as the original). And I will sink into a funk when a show I like is prematurely cancelled (if I ever find out who killed “EZ Streets” I’m gonna kick his ass like it has never been kicked). I will miss House and his band of merry men and women.

I thought it would be funny to start a blog called “Sh*t This Old House says” and include quotes of the hosts and carpenters using phrases from the world of construction that sound dirty but really aren’t (i.e.-”Just keep pounding until it comes loose,” “we need a little more caulk right there,” or the all-time classic “bitchathane”). Sometimes my mind just reverts to a juvenile state and I can giggle my way through an entire episode.

This Old House” put a few seasons up as full episodes on a YouTube channel, and they are now finally offering the most recent season online a day or two after they are distributed to PBS stations (airdates vary depending on the station). As a longtime viewer of the series, much has changed over the years. Long gone is Bob Vila, and Steve Thomas vanished from whence he came a few years ago. His replacement, Kevin O’Connor was found when he asked for advice from “Ask This Old House,” the companion series to the original which features more basic home improvement tips. Maybe I’m biased because his name is Kevin, or maybe I’m biased because I never really warmed to Steve (Bob was “the man”), but Kevin functions well as host. As a non-expert, he is able to ask the sorts of questions the rest of us amateurs might ask.

The chief complaint I hear from other longtime viewers is the series focuses too much on massive mansions instead of smaller projects people can relate to. For solely home improvement advice, I’d recommend “Ask This Old House,” but that does not mean I agree with the claim. I concede the selection of homes tends to be grander in scale than the early years of the show, but if you replace a window in a million-dollar home, the process is the same on a $20,000 shack. “This Old House” has been more about using new materials to renovate an existing house, and that core concept — demonstrating the techniques and products — hasn’t changed.

The primary team of craftsmen has remained largely unchanged since the series began, though Norm Abram stopped wearing plaid (I’m old enough to remember the days before Norm had a beard, but that is neither here nor there). Tom Silva still serves as point man on the Boston (or surrounding area) based projects, and there are other regulars as well, but the pacing of the series has undergone a dramatic transformation in recent seasons.

Episodes always used to open with the host arriving on site in a (sponsored) pickup truck. He would then walk leisurely through the house and show the progress and the process of each step of the renovation. While the series often broke away from the site to tour a manufacturing facility, a historic home, or a home center, it used to take place more-or-less in real time. Now the pace is sped up and we might see two or three days unfold in a 25 minute episode. There is now a lot of interstitial music, quick edits, voice-overs, and time-lapse video.

Truth be told, I preferred the slower, more realistic pace. This was a series I used to watch on lazy Saturday afternoons (Norm worked hard so I wouldn’t have to). I liked being able to experience how long it took mortar to set up and how long it took to professionally paint window trim. The steps are still shown, but the time it takes to complete them has been condensed, and I feel something is lost by removing that. However, the show is still head-and-shoulders above any of the home shows on commercial stations. Nobody cries, nobody rushes through a job, and I actually learn things in an entertaining way.

I don’t think “This Old House” gets enough credit for how it has contributed to our cultural landscape. It was among the first of the “how-to” shows with a production budget, and it helped spark a nationwide interest in preserving historic homes instead of just leveling them and starting over.

Believe it or not, I converted several older episodes from my VHS collection (yes I used to record episodes as they were broadcast) to digital files, and I sometimes go back and review them. A lot of people might not catch at first glance that each home has a story — a history and character. The families who elect to work to restore or enhance the history and character are a rare and commendable breed, and the stories are timeless and compelling.

One final point I want to mention about “This Old House” is this is a reality series that is more real than most. If you check out the series they shot in New Orleans (after Hurricane Katrina), you can see what happens as the general contractor hired to oversee the site flaked out and was fired. They do not stage things like termite damage or dangerous wiring — such things are a natural part of any renovation process. People who do not think this is a series for you might want to reconsider. Plumbers and electricians are expensive; I have learned to do minor repairs on my own because of “This Old House.” In an era where every penny counts, that counts for a lot.

Kim Kardashian released a statement to her fans regarding the end of her marriage. We wasted no time breaking down each line of that epic tome to reveal the truth buried underneath. it wasn’t buried too deep — after all, she’s known as being shallow…

This is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write.

Words… hurt… brain

I see all of the support and I am so thankful for my fans, friends and family who are helping me through this difficult time.

I drink… a lot

I am trying not to read all the different media reports but it’s hard not to see all the negative ones.

It is hard to believe there are no positive reports about a plastic girl and her pathetic need for attention

First and foremost, I married for love. I can’t believe I even have to defend this.

Love, in this case, means fame, fortune, and another round of cosmetic surgery… finally gonna get a third breast like that alien chick in “Total Recall”

I would not have spent so much time on something just for a TV show!

I would spend so much time for the DVD and digital download revenues, however

I share so much of my life on a reality show, that contemplating whether to even film my wedding was a tough decision to make, and maybe it turned out to not be the smartest decision.

I spent all of eight seconds contemplating it… a pantload of contemplation for me

But it’s who I am! We filmed Kourtney giving birth, Khloe getting married, break ups, make ups, our best moments and our worst moments.

I also made a porn flick!

These were all real moments.

The moments were real; most of my body parts were not

That’s what makes us who we are.

Porn stars!

We share, we give, we love and we are open!

Love, in this case, means we will pimp each other out for a quick buck

Everyone that knows me knows that I’m a hopeless romantic!

Sex with NBA guys is awesome!

I love with all of my heart and soul.

I’ll do ass-to-mouth

I want a family and babies and a real life so badly that maybe I rushed in to something too soon.

I want a real life, which is why I keep appearing on TV shows

I believed in love and the dream of what I wanted so badly.

Love, in this case, means the chance to have millions of people worship me for walking down the aisle while wearing white

I felt like I was on a fast roller coaster and couldn’t get off when now I know I probably should have.

Next time I’ll make sure he pulls out sooner

I got caught up with the hoopla and the filming of the TV show that when I probably should have ended my relationship, I didn’t know how to and didn’t want to disappoint a lot of people.

I should have ended my relationship but I got married instead — who hasn’t done the same thing?

I’m being honest here and I hope you respect my courage because this isn’t easy to go through.

The 1% has problems, too — can you believe I had to wait almost three minutes for a manni-peddi?

But I do know that I have to follow my heart.

And by heart I mean vagina — lots of other NBA players on the roster

I never had the intention of hurting anybody and I accept full responsibility for my actions and decisions, and for taking everyone on this journey with me.

Though Ryan Seacrest is partly to blame

It just didn’t turn out to be the fairy tale I had so badly hoped for.

But I have high-hopes for my new boyfriend Charlie Sheen

There are also reports that I made millions of dollars off of the wedding. These reports are simply not true and it makes me so sad to have to even clarify this.

People keep forgetting international sales… we’re talking billions, bitches!

I’m so grateful to everyone who took the time to come to my wedding and I’ll be donating the money for all the gifts to the Dream Foundation.

Because dying people need a gift certificate for free vajazzling for life from Lucy’s of Beverly Hills

I’m sorry if I have hurt anyone, but my dad always told me to follow my heart and I believe now that I really am.

Then again, my dad went to his grave professing OJ was innocent, so maybe I need a better role model