There is no point to this post, other than silliness – which is point enough, in my book. I have been asked to share the fabulous story of the day I “interviewed” Robin Williams. [I put that in quotes for reasons you will soon see.] I love taking a ride on the memory train, especially this one.
It was 1976. I was a student at the KISS-FM Broadcasting School in Los Angeles, where we learned how to spin records, splice tape and read news straight from the teletype machine. [What, you never heard of these things? Why yes, it WAS ancient history.]
And one day, we had a class in How to Host a Radio Talk Show. Apparently, it’s harder than it looks.
The school had hired an unknown actor to play various characters as ‘guests’ while we each took a five-minute turn in the glass booth. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only female in the group to fall in love with the actor when he was introduced: a mass of curls, a sweet, innocent expression, and a long coat that made me think of The Little Prince.
He was adorable. And when he spoke in his soft voice, he had a lovely British accent.
We were told that each guest character would present a common problem that talk show hosts have to face. Of course, we weren’t warned in advance what our problem would be – or that our sweet-faced Little Prince was FUCKING CRAZY.
We found out soon enough.
Imagine a world where Robin Williams does not exist, where there is no such thing as stream-of-consciousness, GENIUS comedy. That was the world of 1976.
The first student walked into the booth full of confidence. Robin metamorphosed into a fast-talking hipster who turned his host into a gibbering idiot in ten seconds flat.
Next!
The next character talked even faster – a foul-mouthed pimp who sexually harassed and even fondled the breasts of the poor young woman who had the bad luck to be his host.
Next!
My turn. Gulp.
My ‘guest’ was an old man who represented the Arthritis Society. Phew! After a few wheezing words, he dropped dead – in my lap. [Yes, Robin Williams' head was in my lap - that's my claim to fame.]
What do you say on live radio when your guest dies?
“Is there a doctor in the house? I think he’s dead.” Brilliant.
Robin’s old man character popped back up.
“No, I’m not! I just wanted to show you how serious arthritis can be!”
And so on. It was a crazy, terrifying, hilarious day, as each of us was tormented by another facet of Robin Williams’ genius. At the end, he turned back into his sweet Little Prince with the British accent, and I wanted to leave my husband and marry him.
A few months later, when the TV sitcom “Mork & Mindy” became an overnight smash hit, I recognized the Little Prince. I thought, “What talent – a Brit who can do an amazing American accent!” It took me another year to find out that I’d been had, and Robin had been faking the British accent for our class.
Which made me admire him even more.
That’s my brush with fame – what’s yours? Tell us in the comments below!
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