The story was, from the beginning, hogwash.
You have to understand, though: in order to attend a taping of The Tonight Show, tickets for specific days are only available on the morning of the show itself. The ticket booth opens at 8:00 AM and NBC recommends that anyone hoping to snag a seat arrive way in advance. This is all the way up in Burbank, mind you, which is a good hour from Long Beach in morning traffic.
But, we were committed to Jay. We woke ourselves up at 5:00 in the morning and were out the door a little after 6:00. Later than we’d planned, but… we arrived at the ticket booth close to 7:00 and the line was already snaked out the door and around the sidewalk. Understandable, I guess, because the guest stars that day were popular (Chris Rock and Hillary Swank). We waited. Eventually, at 8:00, the line began to move. As did the tickets. By the time I, Carey, my dad, and sister Lauren arrived at the booth… wouldn’t you just know it. There were only two tickets left. It had come down to us.
Dad and Lauren took the remaining tickets and Carey and I were placed #1 on the list of stand-bys. Here’s how it works: you stand in line all morning, hoping to get a ticket. Then, you stand in line all afternoon, because your ticket doesn’t guarantee you a seat. If all the guests on the guest list show up, you may be out of luck, ticket or no ticket. However, it’s fairly often that many of the guests fail to show and everyone gets a seat and they even begin to dip into a few of the stand-bys. If it sounds confusing, well… let’s just say that anyone hoping to see Jay has to get used to waiting around for awhile.
So, we waited. And we waited. Dad went across the street and bought some playing cards. We played a few rounds of Hearts. And we waited.
By the time the NBC rep came around with her stack of “What’s Something You’d Like to Confess on the Tonight Show?” index cards, I was bored enough to write just about anything. So, on my card, because it amused me, I wrote:
“I’d like to apologize to my wife for peeing on one of our cats at Christmastime. Only Jay can win her forgiveness.”
The story was, again, hogwash.
Since there wasn’t even a grain of truth to what I’d written, I scrambled to think of a believable story to match when the NBC people came out to meet me. It was all made up off the cuff.
I guess that’s my TRULY big confession: my cat-peeing story on the Tonight Show never happened. I’d lied to get on TV.
Sorry, world. Sorry, God. Sorry, cats.
In the end, Dad was able to round up a ticket for Carey and I was able to trade my two #1 standby seats for one bona-fide real ticket, so we all got in. As luck would have it, we were even seated next to each other (which was against all odds, being that we were at opposite places in line).
It was a great time. Chris Rock was pretty hilarious and Hillary Swank was interesting. Jay is, believe it or not, much funnier in-person. But, I have to confess, the whole time I was really only thinking one thing:
“I’m going to be on the Tonight Show this Friday.”
Gulp.
…
Friday finally came. I did a pretty good job of keeping from everyone what my fake confession had been, but it was difficult. Carey kept wanting to rehearse her big, surprised face. Actually, the NBC writers had even gone so far as to come up with a fake story for me to tell to Carey to cover for the fake story that they didn’t want her to know. Of course, she knew both fake stories, she just didn’t know what the original fake story was about.
Er.
Kevin, a producer, had called me at work two days before to confirm that we’d be bringing two guests along and to let us know that he’d be sending a limo to pick us up at 1:30. I'd sent out a mass email, informing many of those near and dear to me about my big debut. Tim, the head cheese at Binary Pulse (the ad agency where I part-time) offered me $250 to mention the name of the company somewhere in my story. Hnh. A few friends and relatives (some joking, some desperately serious) informed me that this was my "big break" and if I could just manage to mention my website on the air, I'd be on Easy Street. Hah. If only.
Kelly Larned and Kirk Millett, friends of ours, agreed to come along. The limo arrived at 1:30 on the nose and the driver, Tony, popped out and let us in. Let me just tell you, I don't have all kinds of limo experience, but this thing was beautiful. A fully stocked bar, a television, a heckuva lot of legroom... pretty much anything one could want in a limo. It wasn't long before we struck up a conversation with Tony about all the famous celebrities he's driven around. Hoy, the stories! From Jack Nicholson to Jesse Ventura, this guy had been around the block (no pun intended) more than a few times. As it turns out, we were riding in the limo that took Barbara Streisand to the Oscars the weekend before. (A pleasant enough woman, Tony said, but very direct also. Don't cross Barb. Just don't.) We learned that Rob Schneider and Nicholas Cage are pretty cool guys in real life and, by way of contrast, William Hurt is possibly the biggest prick in Hollywood. And, woof, the affairs that have gone on in that limo! Stories to curl your hair!
So, we arrived at NBC and were waved through to the rear gate. This is the entrance the celebs use, by the way, so we passed Jay Leno's car on the way in and took a quick pic beside it. As you'd probably assume, the parking lot was lined with BMWs and Porsches and Vintage Ferraris and pretty much any insurance nightmare you can imagine.
We walked in and were presented with visitors' badges. An NBC rep came out, signed us in, and escorted us back to The Green Room.
Now, I've always heard about The Green Room. That special place where guests and celebrities hang out before a taping. The first thing that struck me about The Green Room was that it was not green. It was tan, actually. There were about 4 TVs there, about half a dozen people waiting, and it was fully catered. And not just chips and Pepsi, either... really, really spectacular food like fresh salmon skewers and crab dumplings and prime rib sandwiches and cakes and pies and... sheesh. Where was all this grub when I wasn't too nervous to eat?
Speaking of nervous, though, I'd reached sort of a Zen state by then. Whatever was to happen was inevitable (see?) and I was just sort of along for the ride. It also helped that I'd downed some whiskey and Coke on the way over. Not enough to get tipsy, but enough to relax a little. (And my long descent into a life of alcoholism begins... you read it here first, folks.)
Anyhow, The Green Room. We'd been informed that we were NOT to turn any of the TVs in there to channel 33. When I asked why not, they gave me a sort of exasperated look. "Because," the NBC rep said, trying to make me understand without having to say it out loud, "that channel is used for camera rehearsals." I caught on quickly enough: If your wife sees us rehearsing with the cameras, she'll very likely overhear us discussing how we plan to point our big, fat cameras right at her. Get it? Ixnay on channel Irty-Threethay, comprende?. Loud and clear, buddy. Gotcha.
About 45 minutes before taping began, 3 of the writers came in and asked for me. They escorted me to a backstage area that appeared secluded enough. One of the writers said, "okay, here's the deal: you're first in a segment called 'Midnight Confessions'. Jay likes to tell people that he's meeting his audience guests for the first time on-camera, so you won't actually speak to him until we're rolling. What I want you to do now is tell me your story as if you were talking to Jay. Ready?"
"Ready."
And I did. Very interesting, these writers. Pencils and clipboards poised, they scrutinized my every word until I was finished, never so much as chuckling or cracking a smile. When I was done with my story, I said, "and, ah, that's it. Done. How did I do?"
"Very good. Pacing was nice. You appear to be nervous and that should play well on-screen. Couple of points, though: Make sure you really go out of your way to mention how obsessively clean your wife is and how much she's in love with the cats. It makes the story funnier."
"Okay, I can do that."
"Oh, and didn't you tell us on Tuesday that when you peed on the cat you hit him right in the forehead?"
"Yeah, I think I might have."
"All right, yes, mention that. Even point to your own forehead when you say it. Like, 'the pee hit him right in the head,' and you point. Like 'doink'. You know?"
"No problem."
...
Finally, it was time for the taping to begin. The writers were satisfied that Carey was sufficiently clueless (we'd agreed to stay 'in character' from the moment we stepped into the limo). A producer showed us to our seats and told us the order he'd like us to sit with, of course, me in the aisle spot. On the way out, we met the other participants of 'Midnight Confessions' and it was a bit surreal to imagine that NBC's late night ratings, for about 10 minutes anyhow, would soon lie in our hands.
So, they did the pre-show song-and-dance. Jay came out and did his monologue. Then he said, "we'll be right back in a moment with 'Midnight Confessions', so stay tuned!" And, as soon as the Applause lights went out, the camera men proceeded to aim 4 NBC cameras directly at us. Jay pulled out his mini cue-cards and went over them for the last time. My Zen-like non-nervousness disappeared. This was it. National TV. I was about to make the most widely-broadcasted statement I had ever and probably will ever make... and it was a big pile o' horse pucky.
Hhhhhhhhh.... let's do it.
The Applause sign lit up once more and it was showtime. I've gone the distance and written a full transcript of my Tonight Show appearance. Here it is:
And, when it was over, it was, mostly, a huge relief. We'd done it. The confession that followed ours concerned a couple of Mormon kids that had iced one of the sidewalks in their college days and photographed people falling down. The last confession was a Tonight Show stage manager confessing to manipulating her now-husband into proposing to her 10 years ago. All in all, the whole Midnight Confessions bit was a mediocre laugh at best. I don't think we'll make any Best Of montages, but we told the story we meant to tell and I guess it wasn't too bad, entertainment-wise.
But, as it's forever preserved for posterity, I'll always remember my voice trembling and cracking, my hands sweating, the studio lights burning my eyes. Jay is much smaller in person and the thing I remember most is the layers of caked-on makeup this guy wears. You'd never know it from your TV at home, but it's like speaking with a manequin. But, Jay was the easy part. The hard part was keeping composure as the electric eyes of NBC stared me down from 15 feet away.
Carey, for her part, was a total champ. For all my finger-wringing and awkward stuttering, her performance was flawless. She groaned and covered her eyes at the right time, showed sincerity and shock when it was called for. Nice work, Care.
The rest of the show was a bit of a blur. Celebrity guest was Rachel "Who's Rachel Griffith?" Griffith from the show Six Feet Under. Probably the most boring guest Jay's had in a long while. Also, The Great Regurgitator (who has the uncanny ability to swallow a set of objects and then vomit them back out in any order he chooses. And, then, some Mexican band.
After the show was over, one of the writers came out the audience immediately and apologized to Carey for misleading her. We were both given Tonight Show t-shirts and the cue card Jay read from to introduce me (pictured at the right). Kevin, the producer, told me that we could wait on the stage and talk to Jay/get pictures with Jay after the show. So, we did. Man, I don't care what anybody says. No, Leno isn't terribly funny and his routine is pretty stale at this point... but, say what you will, he's just a nice guy and he's in it for the fans. When the time came, he received us graciously (albeit briefly) and took pictures with us on the set of the show. I'll post them when I have them. He was also cool enough to autograph the cue card and even chit-chat a little. At first, he confused us with the Mormons, but then apologized when he realized his mistake. He knew me only as "the cat-peeing guy" and made sure that Carey wasn't too mad about being tricked onto the show. She wasn't, of course.
We also met Kevin Eubanks briefly. I've always wanted to meet that guy. He's just as cool and laid back as he appears on the show. And whatta lotta muscles. I guess playing lead guitar builds up your physique, because this fellow looked carved out of wood.
Finally, Producer-Kevin showed us back out to the limo. Tony was waiting. On our way out, we passed some Days of Our Lives actresses that Carey recognized. Apparently, Days cast members are much shorter in real life than they appear on camera. We hopped in and Tony was kind enough to take us to Dalts, where we bought him dinner for carting us around all day. The food was delish and I'm told it's a premier hang-out for celebs in the area. We didn't see any, but, then, we weren't really looking. We were far too enthralled with Tony's tales of limo debauchery (in particular, the rich plastic surgeon that the whole limo company is forced to protect from his wife. He's had a string of illicit affairs, it seems, and Tony's cronies have been caught in the middle on more than one occasion.
Tony took us home, where we picked up some blank VCR tapes and headed over to Kelly's. We waited. Eventually, 11:30 rolled around and... there we were. Big as life. Others have told me that it was surreal to see us up there. Almost like one of those movies where they fake a talk show or something. But, no, it was real and we were really on it.
We returned home to discover that Neil Gaiman had included me on his blog. And, in a weird sort of way, that may have been the biggest thrill of all. Even after all these years, Gaiman remains my greatest hero. I guess my 15 minutes came all at once.
I guess that's it. It still seems strange, but, in the end, it was just a whole lot of fun. A once-in-a-lifetime thing, granted, but still fun.
Now, if I can somehow get on Conan...
You have to understand, though: in order to attend a taping of The Tonight Show, tickets for specific days are only available on the morning of the show itself. The ticket booth opens at 8:00 AM and NBC recommends that anyone hoping to snag a seat arrive way in advance. This is all the way up in Burbank, mind you, which is a good hour from Long Beach in morning traffic.
But, we were committed to Jay. We woke ourselves up at 5:00 in the morning and were out the door a little after 6:00. Later than we’d planned, but… we arrived at the ticket booth close to 7:00 and the line was already snaked out the door and around the sidewalk. Understandable, I guess, because the guest stars that day were popular (Chris Rock and Hillary Swank). We waited. Eventually, at 8:00, the line began to move. As did the tickets. By the time I, Carey, my dad, and sister Lauren arrived at the booth… wouldn’t you just know it. There were only two tickets left. It had come down to us.
Dad and Lauren took the remaining tickets and Carey and I were placed #1 on the list of stand-bys. Here’s how it works: you stand in line all morning, hoping to get a ticket. Then, you stand in line all afternoon, because your ticket doesn’t guarantee you a seat. If all the guests on the guest list show up, you may be out of luck, ticket or no ticket. However, it’s fairly often that many of the guests fail to show and everyone gets a seat and they even begin to dip into a few of the stand-bys. If it sounds confusing, well… let’s just say that anyone hoping to see Jay has to get used to waiting around for awhile.
So, we waited. And we waited. Dad went across the street and bought some playing cards. We played a few rounds of Hearts. And we waited.
By the time the NBC rep came around with her stack of “What’s Something You’d Like to Confess on the Tonight Show?” index cards, I was bored enough to write just about anything. So, on my card, because it amused me, I wrote:
The story was, again, hogwash.
Since there wasn’t even a grain of truth to what I’d written, I scrambled to think of a believable story to match when the NBC people came out to meet me. It was all made up off the cuff.
I guess that’s my TRULY big confession: my cat-peeing story on the Tonight Show never happened. I’d lied to get on TV.
Sorry, world. Sorry, God. Sorry, cats.
In the end, Dad was able to round up a ticket for Carey and I was able to trade my two #1 standby seats for one bona-fide real ticket, so we all got in. As luck would have it, we were even seated next to each other (which was against all odds, being that we were at opposite places in line).
It was a great time. Chris Rock was pretty hilarious and Hillary Swank was interesting. Jay is, believe it or not, much funnier in-person. But, I have to confess, the whole time I was really only thinking one thing:
“I’m going to be on the Tonight Show this Friday.”
Gulp.
…
Friday finally came. I did a pretty good job of keeping from everyone what my fake confession had been, but it was difficult. Carey kept wanting to rehearse her big, surprised face. Actually, the NBC writers had even gone so far as to come up with a fake story for me to tell to Carey to cover for the fake story that they didn’t want her to know. Of course, she knew both fake stories, she just didn’t know what the original fake story was about.
Er.
Kevin, a producer, had called me at work two days before to confirm that we’d be bringing two guests along and to let us know that he’d be sending a limo to pick us up at 1:30. I'd sent out a mass email, informing many of those near and dear to me about my big debut. Tim, the head cheese at Binary Pulse (the ad agency where I part-time) offered me $250 to mention the name of the company somewhere in my story. Hnh. A few friends and relatives (some joking, some desperately serious) informed me that this was my "big break" and if I could just manage to mention my website on the air, I'd be on Easy Street. Hah. If only.
Kelly Larned and Kirk Millett, friends of ours, agreed to come along. The limo arrived at 1:30 on the nose and the driver, Tony, popped out and let us in. Let me just tell you, I don't have all kinds of limo experience, but this thing was beautiful. A fully stocked bar, a television, a heckuva lot of legroom... pretty much anything one could want in a limo. It wasn't long before we struck up a conversation with Tony about all the famous celebrities he's driven around. Hoy, the stories! From Jack Nicholson to Jesse Ventura, this guy had been around the block (no pun intended) more than a few times. As it turns out, we were riding in the limo that took Barbara Streisand to the Oscars the weekend before. (A pleasant enough woman, Tony said, but very direct also. Don't cross Barb. Just don't.) We learned that Rob Schneider and Nicholas Cage are pretty cool guys in real life and, by way of contrast, William Hurt is possibly the biggest prick in Hollywood. And, woof, the affairs that have gone on in that limo! Stories to curl your hair!
So, we arrived at NBC and were waved through to the rear gate. This is the entrance the celebs use, by the way, so we passed Jay Leno's car on the way in and took a quick pic beside it. As you'd probably assume, the parking lot was lined with BMWs and Porsches and Vintage Ferraris and pretty much any insurance nightmare you can imagine.
We walked in and were presented with visitors' badges. An NBC rep came out, signed us in, and escorted us back to The Green Room.
Now, I've always heard about The Green Room. That special place where guests and celebrities hang out before a taping. The first thing that struck me about The Green Room was that it was not green. It was tan, actually. There were about 4 TVs there, about half a dozen people waiting, and it was fully catered. And not just chips and Pepsi, either... really, really spectacular food like fresh salmon skewers and crab dumplings and prime rib sandwiches and cakes and pies and... sheesh. Where was all this grub when I wasn't too nervous to eat?
Speaking of nervous, though, I'd reached sort of a Zen state by then. Whatever was to happen was inevitable (see?) and I was just sort of along for the ride. It also helped that I'd downed some whiskey and Coke on the way over. Not enough to get tipsy, but enough to relax a little. (And my long descent into a life of alcoholism begins... you read it here first, folks.)
Anyhow, The Green Room. We'd been informed that we were NOT to turn any of the TVs in there to channel 33. When I asked why not, they gave me a sort of exasperated look. "Because," the NBC rep said, trying to make me understand without having to say it out loud, "that channel is used for camera rehearsals." I caught on quickly enough: If your wife sees us rehearsing with the cameras, she'll very likely overhear us discussing how we plan to point our big, fat cameras right at her. Get it? Ixnay on channel Irty-Threethay, comprende?. Loud and clear, buddy. Gotcha.
About 45 minutes before taping began, 3 of the writers came in and asked for me. They escorted me to a backstage area that appeared secluded enough. One of the writers said, "okay, here's the deal: you're first in a segment called 'Midnight Confessions'. Jay likes to tell people that he's meeting his audience guests for the first time on-camera, so you won't actually speak to him until we're rolling. What I want you to do now is tell me your story as if you were talking to Jay. Ready?"
"Ready."
And I did. Very interesting, these writers. Pencils and clipboards poised, they scrutinized my every word until I was finished, never so much as chuckling or cracking a smile. When I was done with my story, I said, "and, ah, that's it. Done. How did I do?"
"Very good. Pacing was nice. You appear to be nervous and that should play well on-screen. Couple of points, though: Make sure you really go out of your way to mention how obsessively clean your wife is and how much she's in love with the cats. It makes the story funnier."
"Okay, I can do that."
"Oh, and didn't you tell us on Tuesday that when you peed on the cat you hit him right in the forehead?"
"Yeah, I think I might have."
"All right, yes, mention that. Even point to your own forehead when you say it. Like, 'the pee hit him right in the head,' and you point. Like 'doink'. You know?"
"No problem."
...
Finally, it was time for the taping to begin. The writers were satisfied that Carey was sufficiently clueless (we'd agreed to stay 'in character' from the moment we stepped into the limo). A producer showed us to our seats and told us the order he'd like us to sit with, of course, me in the aisle spot. On the way out, we met the other participants of 'Midnight Confessions' and it was a bit surreal to imagine that NBC's late night ratings, for about 10 minutes anyhow, would soon lie in our hands.
So, they did the pre-show song-and-dance. Jay came out and did his monologue. Then he said, "we'll be right back in a moment with 'Midnight Confessions', so stay tuned!" And, as soon as the Applause lights went out, the camera men proceeded to aim 4 NBC cameras directly at us. Jay pulled out his mini cue-cards and went over them for the last time. My Zen-like non-nervousness disappeared. This was it. National TV. I was about to make the most widely-broadcasted statement I had ever and probably will ever make... and it was a big pile o' horse pucky.
Hhhhhhhhh.... let's do it.
The Applause sign lit up once more and it was showtime. I've gone the distance and written a full transcript of my Tonight Show appearance. Here it is:
JAY: All right, welcome back. As I look into the audience tonight, I see that many of you are troubled... burdened by the weight of a guilty conscience. Maybe there's something you want to get off your chest. Since many of you feel it's too dangerous to go into a confessional these days, I'm here to relieve that shame. It's time for... Midnight Confessions.
[Midnight Confessions title graphic appears. Inspirational church music plays.]
JAY: Now it's time to talk to people who'll tell me the horrible secrets they've been holding inside. I have not met these people, so I, like you, will be meeting them for the first time. Where is Jeremy Bear?
JER (standing): That's me.
JAY: Jeremy Bear, hi, Jeremy, how are you? Where are you from?
JER: Doing all right. Long Beach, California.
JAY: Long Beach, California. And you have something you want to get off your chest?
JER: Ah, yes, I do, actually. It's, uh...
JAY: And who will you be confessing to, first of all?
JER: This is a confession for my wife.
JAY: Your wife. And where is your wife?
JER: She's right here.
JAY: Right here?
JER: Yeah.
JAY: (to Carey) Is this a shock to you?
CAREY: (doing a nice job of acting shocked) ...Yes...
JAY: Oh, okay, all right. (to Jer) And how long have you had this inside you, sir?
JER: Well... several months.
JAY: Several months. Well, okay, let's hear what it is. I hope she's an understanding... is she an understanding woman?
JER: I'm hoping.
JAY: Hoping... well... (to Carey) Are you an understanding woman?
CAREY: ...I think so...
JAY: Well, all right. Let's find out. Go ahead, sir.
JER: Well, at Christmas time we had a little get-together. About 15 people over to the place. Uh, we decided to put the cats in the bathroom...
JAY: How many cats do you have?
JER: We've got two cats. Gilbert and Calliope are their names.
JAY: Gilbert and Calliope.
JER: Yeah. And...
JAY: Are these just, like, ratty old house-cats or what?
JER: No, they're, uh, very... precious. Especially to my wife.
JAY: Really. (to Carey) Are you a cat person?
CAREY: Oh, yeah. I love 'em.
JAY: Oh, so you really worship these cats. Do you have children?
JER: No. No kids.
JAY: I see.
JER: Cats instead.
JAY: (nudging Jer) Oh, I get it. I get it. You have the cats...
JER: Holding off on the kids, keeping the...
JAY: Okay, so, she loves these cats.
JER: Yeah. And, actually she's big into... hygene and changing the litter all the time and keeping the...
JAY: Keeping the cats looking...?
JER: ...Prim... and... so, what happened was, after awhile I had to take a.... pee.
JAY: You had to go in the bathroom.
JER: Right. So, you know, I start going, and...
JAY: You're going to the bathroom.
JER: Sure. Yeah. And Gilbert is a real curious guy. He likes to kind of check out what's going on... in the bowl. Well, a buddy of mine kinda came and wanted to ask me a question so he rapped on the door. And I answered him... but, I kind of... turned.
JAY: You turned.
JER: And I...
JAY: In the middle of doing what you were doing.
JER: Yeah, I just blanked I guess. And I ended up... peeing on Gilbert.
JAY: You peed on the cat.
JER: Yeah.
JAY: Okay, so you've urinated all over the cat. Now what, sir?
JER: Yeah, I nailed him right in the head.
JAY: So...
JER: Yeah, I felt really bad because I knew the wife would flip out, so...
JAY: You look frightened to death, I've never seen a man so frightened!
JER: Yeah! And...
JAY: So, then what did you do?
JER: Well, I decided, you know, I've gotta clean the cat.
JAY: You're gonna wash the cat.
JER: Yeah.
JAY: Oh, good idea, sir.
JER: So, I grabbed him and... I don't know if you've ever tried to hold a cat under a faucet, but...
JAY: It doesn't really work, does it?
JER: No. I'm trying and he's yowling and he's (imitating a cat taking a swipe with his claws) ftt! He kinda tagged me a little over here (points to neck).
JAY: Oh, wow.
JER: Yeah, and drying him off and... in the end, I couldn't really clean him. His head still stank like pee.
JAY: Is the cat okay now?
JER: Yeah, he's fine.
JAY: Do you feel better that you've confessed?
JER: I don't know yet.
JAY: Well, we'll find out. (to Carey) Could you stand up for a second, please? Do you forgive him?
CAREY: (standing up, to Jer) This happened at Christmas time? Is that what you're telling me?
JER: Yeah... yeah. Yeah.
CAREY: (to Jay) I guess so.
JAY: Aw, well, see, there you go. Honesty is the best policy. Thank you, sir (shakes Jer's hand and Carey's hand), there you go. Thank you.
And, when it was over, it was, mostly, a huge relief. We'd done it. The confession that followed ours concerned a couple of Mormon kids that had iced one of the sidewalks in their college days and photographed people falling down. The last confession was a Tonight Show stage manager confessing to manipulating her now-husband into proposing to her 10 years ago. All in all, the whole Midnight Confessions bit was a mediocre laugh at best. I don't think we'll make any Best Of montages, but we told the story we meant to tell and I guess it wasn't too bad, entertainment-wise.
But, as it's forever preserved for posterity, I'll always remember my voice trembling and cracking, my hands sweating, the studio lights burning my eyes. Jay is much smaller in person and the thing I remember most is the layers of caked-on makeup this guy wears. You'd never know it from your TV at home, but it's like speaking with a manequin. But, Jay was the easy part. The hard part was keeping composure as the electric eyes of NBC stared me down from 15 feet away.
Carey, for her part, was a total champ. For all my finger-wringing and awkward stuttering, her performance was flawless. She groaned and covered her eyes at the right time, showed sincerity and shock when it was called for. Nice work, Care.
 |
 |
Here are the Jay Leno cuecards. click to enlarge |
The rest of the show was a bit of a blur. Celebrity guest was Rachel "Who's Rachel Griffith?" Griffith from the show Six Feet Under. Probably the most boring guest Jay's had in a long while. Also, The Great Regurgitator (who has the uncanny ability to swallow a set of objects and then vomit them back out in any order he chooses. And, then, some Mexican band.
After the show was over, one of the writers came out the audience immediately and apologized to Carey for misleading her. We were both given Tonight Show t-shirts and the cue card Jay read from to introduce me (pictured at the right). Kevin, the producer, told me that we could wait on the stage and talk to Jay/get pictures with Jay after the show. So, we did. Man, I don't care what anybody says. No, Leno isn't terribly funny and his routine is pretty stale at this point... but, say what you will, he's just a nice guy and he's in it for the fans. When the time came, he received us graciously (albeit briefly) and took pictures with us on the set of the show. I'll post them when I have them. He was also cool enough to autograph the cue card and even chit-chat a little. At first, he confused us with the Mormons, but then apologized when he realized his mistake. He knew me only as "the cat-peeing guy" and made sure that Carey wasn't too mad about being tricked onto the show. She wasn't, of course.
We also met Kevin Eubanks briefly. I've always wanted to meet that guy. He's just as cool and laid back as he appears on the show. And whatta lotta muscles. I guess playing lead guitar builds up your physique, because this fellow looked carved out of wood.
Finally, Producer-Kevin showed us back out to the limo. Tony was waiting. On our way out, we passed some Days of Our Lives actresses that Carey recognized. Apparently, Days cast members are much shorter in real life than they appear on camera. We hopped in and Tony was kind enough to take us to Dalts, where we bought him dinner for carting us around all day. The food was delish and I'm told it's a premier hang-out for celebs in the area. We didn't see any, but, then, we weren't really looking. We were far too enthralled with Tony's tales of limo debauchery (in particular, the rich plastic surgeon that the whole limo company is forced to protect from his wife. He's had a string of illicit affairs, it seems, and Tony's cronies have been caught in the middle on more than one occasion.
Tony took us home, where we picked up some blank VCR tapes and headed over to Kelly's. We waited. Eventually, 11:30 rolled around and... there we were. Big as life. Others have told me that it was surreal to see us up there. Almost like one of those movies where they fake a talk show or something. But, no, it was real and we were really on it.
We returned home to discover that Neil Gaiman had included me on his blog. And, in a weird sort of way, that may have been the biggest thrill of all. Even after all these years, Gaiman remains my greatest hero. I guess my 15 minutes came all at once.
I guess that's it. It still seems strange, but, in the end, it was just a whole lot of fun. A once-in-a-lifetime thing, granted, but still fun.
Now, if I can somehow get on Conan...
posted by Jeremy Bear at
6:50 PM
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