Past Deadline

Jerry Lewis, on Merv Griffin: 'He Deserved to Die'

It seems that Jerry Lewis is gearing up for this year's Labor Day Telethon by weighing in as an expert on prostate cancer -- and saying some unfortunate things about the recently departed. Like Merv Griffin. This probably didn't come out the way Jerry intended, but he tells "Entertainment Tonight" in an interview airing Friday night that Griffin's alleged lack of aggressive treatment following his prostate cancer diagnosis was interpreted by Lewis as evidence that he got what he deserved -- which was death last Friday at age 82.

"I was very angry when I heard he died," Lewis tells "ET." "He didn't have to die. He knew he had prostate cancer and he did nothing about it. He deserved to die." Let's hope this isn't the same tack he uses when memorializing his deceased "kids" over Labor Day. It doesn't have quite the same ring as, say, "He was a great man and a wonderful talk show host and I had a bundle of laughs with the guy. I'll sure miss him." We all may need to chip in to get Jerry some bereavement training, as this new "It's his own damn fault!" approach seems to be falling a tad short in the compassion department.

Lewis also says in the "ET" interview that he has no intention of dying before he turns 101. Then when he does go, we'll all be able to lay into him for allowing his body to age and break down.

Setting the Record Straight (So to Speak) on My Merv Griffin Uproar

So you may have heard that I wrote a column that appeared in the Hollywood Reporter last Friday (8/17) in which I had the temerity to declare that the late Merv Griffin was gay. I wasn't naive to the controversy the piece had the potential to arouse, yet I also wasn't quite prepared for the intensity of the firestorm. As debate and dialogue are very good things, however, it struck me as a valuable discussion in that the word "gay" still appears to touch such a raw, impassioned nerve in American society -- particularly as it may relate to a beloved, recently-deceased icon.

Sparking this level of tumult was not my intention going in, nor certainly was specifically "outing" Griffin. My goal was instead to see if honesty, sensitivity, context and tone made any difference whatsoever when addressing the subject of sexual orientation -- or if snickering behind someone's back and making them the object of sophomoric jokes remained somehow more palatable so long as the elephant in the room stayed publicly unacknowledged.

I've learned much about this particular issue over the past six days amidst the support, attacks, inaccuracies, charges and heated discourse of the Internet and blogosphere. I thought this a good time to take a deep breath, share some observations and clarify a few misconceptions.

--The timing of the column (running on the same day as Merv's memorial service) was unfortunate and entirely coincidental. My weekly column "The Pulse" publishes now on Fridays. There was no disrespect intended, and I apologize to anyone who took it as such.

--It's true that both the column and a spinoff post on this blog were briefly pulled off of the Internet by The Hollywood Reporter (which owns and oversees this site) on Friday afternoon in the chaos that erupted over the column's having been published. There were loud protests and anger from some in the Hollywood community. The specific details are less important than the fact both the column and blog post were restored online within an hour, for which I was greatly relieved.

--There have been reports in various corners of cyberspace that when the Griffin column and blog went back online, they contained radical content edits and a softened headline. Neither is true. The original headline -- both in the paper and online -- was, and remained, "Griffin Never Revealed Man Behind the Curtain." The confusion stems from the Reuters news service (with which the Reporter is linked) and its decision to feature its own, decidedly misleading and sensational headline: "Merv Griffin Died a Closeted Homosexual." That headline was never used by The Hollywood Reporter.

--There was one other previous headline over the blog post, that being, "Saying What Merv Griffin Never Felt He Could." It was decided during the day last Friday to change that to match the column headline for consistency, rather than editorial, reasons.

--Reuters had kept my Griffin column up on its own site for roughly 14 hours, beginning the evening of Aug. 16, before scrapping most of the piece, relegating what was left to a blog and attaching to the bottom the vague explanation that suddenly the column "did not meet our standards for news" -- which evidently were rewritten on the afternoon of Aug. 17. This proved a disturbing bit of literary backpeddling that I'm surprised has been largely ignored by the mainstream media community -- with the notable exception of the well-respected journalism trade Editor & Publisher. As for Reuters, its decision struck me as both confounding and utterly gutless. (Yahoo News, to its credit, picked up the Reuters version and kept it up on its site even after Reuters deep-sixed it.)

--The Hollywood Reporter has stood by me admirably throughout what evolved into an emotionally-charged and heated situation, and my superiors deserve props for showing some real mettle and blinking only briefly. Incoming editor Elizabeth Guider opined upon reflection that the column was not "malicious, mendacious or unfair-minded" and therefore was comfortable not merely with its legality but its message as well. She understood that it's sometimes the job of columnists to shake up the status quo as well as to "spark more discussion and deal with different viewpoints. That's what free speech is about." Amen.

--It still strikes me as somewhat astounding that the people for whom I work agreed to publish the column in the first place. Whether inadvertant or purposeful, it was rather brave -- even more so than my having written it, as Hollywood trades rarely permit such provocative discussion within their pages.

What I continue to wrestle with is the whole question of how such a gentle, respectful utterance could provoke such a severe and polarizing reaction. I naturally acknowledge that there are two ways of looking at this, and one is that I had no right to override Griffin's personal decision to keep his private life his own business. I opted instead to err on the side of truth and candor, with the idea that disclosing Merv's being gay can't personally impact him after death and -- unless we attach shame to it -- ought not to taint his legacy in any way. I still firmly believe that and would retract nothing I wrote in the column.

I have to wonder if the response in defense of keeping Griffin's secret life a secret post-mortem would have been as acute had he died penniless and forgotten. It would seem there is a direct relationship between the size of one's estate and the level of security guarding his or her heretofore undisclosed sexual orientation. And it appears that $1.6 billion will buy an awful lot of closet space.

Indeed, as I stressed in the column, this was never about any sort of Great Revelation. It was about the wider point as relates to both the public's and the media's fear in raising the gay issue. It was about the ongoing stigma that I would have thought we'd be past, not its lingering stain on Merv Griffin's reputation. Because in my view, there is no stain. His homosexuality should be treated as another mundane detail in the larger picture of a great and fascinating life. That it remains so profoundly significant and scandalous in the minds of so many should alert us to the land mines that obstruct the arduous journey to enlightenment.

(Photo courtesy WireImage.com)

Griffin never revealed man behind the curtain

Merv Griffin was gay.

There. Is that plain enough for ya? No gossip, no scandal, no snickering behind the back. Just reality. Why should that be so uncomfortable to contemplate? Why is it so difficult to write? Why are we still so jittery even about raising the issue in purportedly liberal-minded Hollywood, in 2007? We can refer to it casually in conversation without a second thought, but the mainstream media still somehow remains trapped in the Dark Ages as relates to the gay label. Even in the capital of entertainment -- in a business where homosexuality isn't exactly a rare phenomenon -- it's still spoken of in hushed tones or, more often, not at all.

Maybe that helps explain why Griffin, who died Sunday at 82 from prostate cancer, stayed inside the closet throughout his life. Perhaps he figured it was preferable to remain the object of rumor and smug ridicule rather than live openly as "one of them." But how tremendously sad that a man of Merv's considerable gifts, of his gregarious nature and social dexterity, would feel compelled to endure such a stealthy double-life even as the gay community's clout, and its levels of acceptance and equality, rose steadily from the ashes of ignorance.

I'm not at all insinuating that Griffin had a responsibility to come out. That was up to him and him alone.

But what a powerful message Griffin might have sent had he squired his male companions around town rather than Eva Gabor, his longtime good friend and platonic public pal. Imagine the amount of good Merv could have done as a well-respected, hugely successful, beloved and uncloseted gay man in embodying a positive image.

As it was, I loved the guy, finding him charismatic and charming, as I pointed out repeatedly in posts here over the weekend. And also as mentioned, I had more than a passing acquaintance with Merv, having worked as a talent coordinator/segment producer on "The Merv Griffin Show" in 1985-86 as the talk show was winding down its lengthy run. Around the office, the boss's being gay was merely a fact of life, understood but rarely discussed (and certainly never with him). We knew nothing of his actual relationships because he guarded his privacy fiercely, and it didn't behoove us to pry.

I can't think that I'm "out"-ing Griffin here. His being gay was well known throughout the showbiz culture, if not necessarily the wider America. I also don't believe the revelation at all taints his legacy, unless we are to buy into the notion that there remains shame in homosexual behavior. That only applies to the homophobes among us. But Merv came out of a generation that overwhelmingly believed there was something very wrong with being gay, and thus he never felt free to rise above sneaking around like a common cheat. That was the only shame in this equation. In being gay, Merv was what he was, but was never permitted in his mind to freely express it.

It's an interesting question, but one on which I side with disclosure. Particularly after someone passes, should their "secret" die with them? To my mind, when the media is fearful of raising the gay issue for whatever reason, it serves to further fuel the shame concept, not puncture it (that is, if it's fact, as it is in this case, and not mere conjecture). One can also say this was nobody's business but Merv's, but that isn't actually true. Griffin was a public figure whose sex life -- which played a significant role in defining him, as it does most of us -- was swaddled in concealment. Like it or not, that is part of his story. I have to think even Merv himself would be OK with having such a burdensome deceit taken off his back at last.

Over the past 16 years -- in the wake of a pair of lawsuits filed against him in 1991, by "Dance Fever" host Denny Terrio alleging sexual harrassment and by assistant Brent Plott seeking $200 million in palimony -- Merv consistently deflected questions surrounding his sexuality with a quip. He certainly didn't owe us any explanation, but you might conclude he owed it to himself to remove the suffocating veil he'd long been forced to hide behind. Then again, Merv carved his niche in the entertainment world in an era when being gay wasn't OK, when confession was unthinkable and the allegation alone could deep-six one's career.

If you're Griffin, why would you think a judgmental culture would be any more tolerant as you grew into middle and old age? Too, Merv's twin brushes with tabloid scandal in 1991 no doubt only drove him further into the closet. And while it might seem everything has changed today, little actually has. You can count on the fingers of one hand, or at most two, the number of high-powered stars, executives and public figures who have come out. Those who don't can't really be faulted, either, as rarely do such honesty and vulnerability prove a boon to one's showbiz livelihood.

Nonetheless, the elephant that was his sexual orientation never stopped following Merv from room to room. He could duck it for a while, but it would always find him. And it's disheartening that he had to die to finally shake that unwieldy pachyderm for good.

Not to Mince Words, But TMZ is the Antichrist

My friend Burt Kearns at the superb blog Tabloid Baby has been righteously and rightfully taking the toxic and tactless gossip site TMZ.com to task for being the classless operation that it is. And suffice it to say, I second that. It's rather unfathomable that this attack-dog corner of cyberspace is backed by boatloads of AOL/Time Warner corporate cash, as it is so unctuous, sleazy and extreme that it's singlehandedly slicing a dagger through whatever credibility entertainment journalism had remaining. It's ruining things for those who are at least fighting to retain a measure of taste and sensitivity, as boss Harvey Levin and his TMZ possess none.

The latest example of the Website's shameless MO is the above photo that announced the death Sunday of Merv Griffin. Wow, how very clever to turn its headline into a "Wheel of Fortune" puzzle, huh? This is what passes for cute at TMZ.com, which has made an art form of the trivial and the unconscionable.

I mean, you know you've crossed the line (actually, obliterated it is more like it) when a guy who runs a site called Tabloid Baby is pummeling your bottom-feeder style -- and he's right on target. Kearns believes TMZ "is giving tabloid a bad name." Good tabloid, he reasons, "has a sense of humor and a sense of morality. Tabloid sticks up for the little guy. It doesn't make heroes out of villains. It's a form of journalism that speaks to the Average Joe." By contrast, he reasons that TMZ boasts "stories and headlines that have been lewdly written...It's pervy and porny and crass and dirty and nasty and ugly."

Kearns also observes that TMZ is responding to the criticism from he and others by growing even more aggressive and relentless in looking to get a rise out of the celebrity community. He points to a recent provocation of, and confrontation with, comedian/actor Brad Garrett, using a self-created incident with the towering and talented star of "Everybody Loves Raymond" and Fox's "'Till Death" to take a cheap shot at him on its site. Some TMZ dweeb with a camera (part of the stalkerazzi) evidently got into Garrett's face as he exited a restaurant in Malibu on Sunday night, and when the star tried to push the lens away, he was made to look like a prima donna hothead.

It's utterly unfair, as Garrett is -- from everything I've seen -- the most affable, jocular and cooperative of Hollywood personalities. But TMZ earns his stripes with a carefully calculated "gotcha!" agenda of negativity and humiliation -- plumbing the depths of showbiz's underbelly to glorify whatever darkness can be strip-mined. It's sad and infuriating that it has come to this.

Here's another smart take on the TMZ/Brad Garrett debacle from the smart and glib L.A. Daily News TV Critic David Kronke and his blog The Mayor of Television.

My Favorite (and Final) Merv Story

There was a producer on "The Merv Griffin Show" named Les Sinclair who had a particular fondness for spiritual wacko types: aura readers, New Age cultists, whatever new oddball happened to be coming down the pike. During my first day working for Merv as a talent coordinator/segment producer in 1985-86, Les began discussing some crystal spinner dude and asked if I would handle the pre-interview with this individual. Unbenounced to me, when Les made this sort of inquiry, you were supposed to suddenly remember an urgent appointment down the hall and make a run for it. As I was yet to receive this memo, I instead answered, "Sure."

Well, Les took this to somehow mean that I was as into this crap as he was, and I was his new man. Every nut job with a sales pitch was thereafter my guest. "Oh, and that fellow who tracks rainbows using asparagus, have Ray handle that one," Les would say. Lovely. And since the show was having some trouble getting the top names by this point in its run, gypsies and snake charmers were becoming like family. There would be a couple of new crazies on every week spouting outrageous theories about how we humans were all just, you know, water-carrying magnifying glasses or something. I had to talk to 'em all and struggle to act as if what they were saying made perfect sense. ("Yes, of course, microwave ovens are simply unicorns in disguise. Absolutely. It's so clear now.")

And then I got assigned Ramtha: The Enlightened One.

Ramtha was actually this woman named J.Z. Knight who had attracted a shockingly large and devoted following by claiming to have been inhabited by some ancient "spiritual entity" while minding her own business in the kitchen of her Tacoma, Washington home in 1977. Proving there is a sucker born every minute, she was able to make a comfortable living "channeling" Ramtha at seminars, via her Ramtha School of Enlightenment and through the sale of tapes, books and accessories. The purported Ramtha she was channeling was a 35,000-year-old spirit warrior who had abandoned his Army way back when and vowed to return from the deep past at some point to, you know, chill with a bowl of ice cream and a little TV or whatever.

Ramtha is still around, by the way, and even has his/her own Website. Those enlightened entities sure learn quickly the ways of mass marketing and modern technology.

I cannot stress strongly enough how completely ridiculous this all seemed to me. But Les assured me this was serious business, that Ramtha was "the real deal" and that if Ramtha agreed to be channeled through J.Z. we were in for "a helluva show."

"What do you mean, 'If Ramtha agrees to be channeled through J.Z.'?" I asked Les.

"Oh, the timing has to be absolutely right or Ramtha won't appear; J.Z. is only the spiritual medium through which Ramtha appears in our world," Les replied without a trace of a smile.

Funny, but I had a strong suspicion that Ramtha was going to think a national television appearance might just be a good time to emerge. To my skeptical mind, this was such a crock that I couldn't believe Merv was actually going to go through with the interview. I mean, it was tough enough to find an audience with guests who existed in the current millennium, much less 33,000 B.C. But Les, ever the True Believer, had talked Merv into it. And now it was time to do the pre-interview by phone.

"Does Ramtha come out for pre-interviews or only the real thing?" I asked Les.

"Well, that's a good question," he said. "Give it your best shot, be patient, and hope for the best. But remember: she'll do the interview first as J.Z. and then as Ramtha. They're two completely different people, you know."

So I'm doing the interview. The woman on the other end of the line sounds relatively normal, mild-mannered and sane even. And then I ask her if she can tap Ramtha on the shoulder and see if maybe he'd consider coming to the phone.

"All right," Knight says.

For the next minute or so, I encounter total silence on the receiver. She suddenly then starts blithering in tongues and making gutteral, husky noises like someone in the throes of seizure. My first thought was that she sounded uncannily like Linda Blair's character Regan in "The Exorcist" when the devil was speaking through her. This Knight lady clearly had studied at the feet of the master, I thought.

Finally, this suddenly masculine voice shouts, "Indeed!".

"Oh, um, hi Ramtha," I say sheepishly.

"Hellllo," the voice bellows.

I wasn't freaked out so much as incredulous that I was supposed to buy that this woman was anything but a bad actress. But it was their popcycle stand, and I pressed on with the line of questioning Les had instructed.

"Why have you decided to return to our world now Ramtha?" I asked.

"Because...It is necessary to heal that which is called society. I have come to show you how to make that which is called peace."

I was doing my best to avoid that which is called laughing hysterically. After about 15 minutes of this, I tell Ramtha he can go back to bed now or whatever and see if he can put J.Z. back on. He does -- and just at that moment, it strikes me as suddenly odd that a 35,000-year-old guy without any communications savvy would so easily understand how to conduct a telephone interview. It was evidently just another facet of the miracle that was Ramtha.

In the meeting with Merv before the show, I warn him that this is just all sorts of weird and that he might want to think twice about the whole Ramtha thing, that the lady is clearly bonkers and quite possibly delusional to boot.

"Oh that's perfect!" Merv assures me. "Delusion makes wonderful TV."

As the audience files in for the Ramtha show taping, I notice a commotion out front and go to check it out. The line for entrance was still wrapping around the block even though the theater was nearly full. A lot of people weren't going to be getting in. A look of concern crossed Les' face as he looked to police the situation. Extra security had to be called in as people lined up and denied entrance were screaming and chanting. It looked like the beginnings of a riot. But the extra security finally was able to restore order.

It was time for J.Z. Knight to come out. Merv introduces her. The crowd, all evidently Ramtha-ites, gave her a raucous standing ovation. As she took her seat next to Merv, Knight lowered her hands and the crowd grew instantly silent and seated. It was eerie. I looked at some of my co-workers standing nearby, and all carried an expression of fear, as if we'd just crashed a cult gathering and we were the only ones who had been denied The Answer.

Merv asks Knight all of ther proper question about how all of this happened, why she was chosen, what she thinks it means, blah blah blah blah blah. And then Merv summons Ramtha to appear. As soon as he does, Knight closes her eyes, begins rocking back and forth and emits a low humming sound. This continues for -- no joke -- more than three minutes. You don't know how long 180 seconds can be until you see it played out before your eyes as dead air time. Merv looked totally uncomfortable, alternately looking at the control booth and at the rocking guest beside him, once shrugging while making eye contact with the producer as if to ask, "What now?"

Finally, at right about the 3 1/2-minute mark, Knight opens her eyes, bolts upright, springs to her feet, thrusts her right fist in the air and screams, "INDEED!!!!!!!!!!"

On cue, the audience rose as one, thrusts fists in the air and answered, "INDEED!!!!!!!!!!"

For the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to inhabit a mental institution. For these people, this woman was God. To me, she was a transparent opportunist. But at that moment, she owned the world -- on TV, preaching to a roomful of spellbound followers. Merv, for his part, was flabbergasted. His body language said it all: his face looking at Knight/Ramtha, his torso leaning as far back in his chair as it would go.

Merv asked all of the same questions I did and got pretty much the same answers, with every phrase preceded by "That which is called..." (or maybe it was "That which is gall..."). I saw Les immediately after the show and he appeared crestfallen, admitting to me, "I think Merv had to have felt embarrassed by that. Oh God, this is a disaster..."

But Les needn't have worried. An hour later, at a meeting just prior to the second show taping, Merv was positively giddy. "Wow, I thought she was going to weave back and forth like that for an hour. I didn't know what to do. But damn, it was great television. Great television!"

And that's why I had little choice but to love the guy, enlightened entity that he was.

Stories About Merv Griffin and His Show That You'll Read Nowhere Else (Unless They Link to Me)

I'm really going to miss Merv Griffin (died Sunday of prostate cancer at 82). He was truly one of those once-in-a-lifetime characters, and having worked with him directly I can tell you with some certainty that there weren't two Mervs. He was more or less the same in private as in public, though you know he had to be a major hard-nose in things of business given how well he did (snaring a cool $250 million in his sale of the shows he created, "Wheel of Fortune" and "Jeopardy!", to Coca-Cola in 1986 and retaining a profit stake at the same time).

But it wasn't the businessman that most made Merv stand out. It was his infectious lust for life and all it offered. The guy worked -- with monumental success -- until practically his dying day because it was fun for him. If it hadn't been, he'd have chucked it, because Merv was all about having a good time. No one I've ever met seemed to love the journey more than did Merv. He didn't earn a fortune and hoard it looking to collect more, slaving 16 hours a day at a desk. No, he bought a yacht and sailed the world, bought a racehorse and hung at the track, bought the Beverly Hilton and turned it cool again, spent quality time with friends, did it right. That's what I'll take away. Merv didn't allow success to consume him; instead, he consumed it.

Here are some stories from the inside that I've been saving up for the better part of 20 years. E-mail them to all your friends.

                                                         *

Merv loved nothing better than a good challenge, and one day while I was working at "The Merv Griffin Show" the subject of what you can't say on TV was raised. I forget how, but I believe it was Merv himself who concocted the idea of trying to scatter some profane words throughout a show without anyone really noticing. Without citing specifics, he promised to utter five such words on the next broadcast and see if he could get away with not being censored or having to do a wrap-around -- and sure enough, he nailed it, to the great glee of those of us watching the taping from the sound booth.

Yes, Merv delivered the offending words so seamlessly, and with such flawless context, that it simply sounded as if he were mispronouncing other intended words rather than the ones on the table. To this day, no one aside from show staffers -- and now, you -- know that Merv ever did this. It was a mischievous side you never much heard about. But back in the mid-1980s when Merv did it, the days before cable and less stringent language regulations, it was pretty cool.

                                                          *       

USA Today technology reporter Jefferson Graham likes to tell the story about the time he was interviewing Merv in his production offices and being shown around the joint, with Merv pausing to point out all of the photographs of him sharing the stage with various luminaries and towering figures of his time (JFK, Sir Laurence Olivier, etc.).

"Yes, here I am with John Kennedy...And here I am with Frank Sinatra...And here's Elizabeth Taylor...And Marty King..."

"Marty King?" asked Graham, puzzled.

"Oh yes, Martin Luther King Jr.," Merv replied with nary an ounce of irony.

Yes, when you were in Merv's lair, you were simply one of the gang -- even if you happened to be the most dynamic and influential civil rights leader of your time.

                                                       *

The last public appearance of Orson Welles happened on "The Merv Griffin Show" during a taping the night of October 9, 1985. Welles was in fine form, agreeing to discuss the past in a way he rarely had before. It was a great interview, and after it Welles' limousine took him to dine at Ma Maison restaurant, carted him home -- and he died early the next morning in his sleep.

What's noteworthy is that the event inspired tremendous guilt in the show staff, which the morning of the taping had been mecilessly poking fun at Welles for his tremendous girth, slow gait and deliberate manner. It also was learned that the driver of the limo picking up Welles from the show screwed up and waited in the wrong spot, making Welles walk an additional 100 unnecessary yards or so.

The following morning, after the announcement of Welles' death, the show staff was mortified, feeling that they somehow had been partly responsible for the great man's demise and guilt-ridden over their immature comments of the morning before. Merv himself was said to feel especially badly even though he wasn't in on the meeting commentary. But from that day forward, Welles was spoken of only in the most reverential of tones around the office.

                                                      *

Then there was the show where the nutball (but Oscar-winning) actress Shelley Winters was to be featured. It was made clear by her people that Miss Winters was greatly pressed for time and wouldn't be able to stay a second longer than her segment. She insisted that she be the first guest out and that her limousine driver stay parked by the stage door exit, with the car door open and the engine running so as to more quickly whisk her immediately to wherever it was Winters had to be so urgently.

So the show begins. Shelley does her segment and as it nears conclusion, Merv says, "Well, I know you have to rush off, Shelley, so..."

"What? No I don't," Winters answered. "Why do you want me to go, Merv? Can't I stay?"

"Well of course, Shelley, of course!" Merv assured.

Not only does Shelley stick around for the entire show; she accompanies Merv back to his dressing room and proceeds to chat him up for another 90 minutes. Meanwhile, throughout, the poor limo driver is waiting there, the door open, the engine running.

In a meeting shortly after the show, Merv said, "Oh my God! I couldn't believe it. I never thought I was gonna get rid of her. She wouldn't leave! I finally had to tell her they were locking up the building or she'd have slept over."

                                                      *

Bishop Desmond Tutu was the guest one night on the show, and during the taping it was my job to make sure the Bishop was comfortable and relaxed in the Green Room before his segment with Merv. It was part of the talent coordinator gig: shmooze the guests as if they were visiting your home. So I made sure he had a beverage and the obligatory package of nuts.

The taping starts, and it's time to change the channel on the Green Room TV set to the closed-circuit feed of the show. I'd noticed that Bishop Tutu was intently watching the live World Series telecast that was on that night.

"Oh no, please, don't change the channel!" the Bishop pleased.

"But the taping has started, sir. Don't you want to see the show?" I asked.

"No, actually," Bishop Tutu replied matter-of-factly. "I would much rather watch the game. May I please?"

I nodded and handed the Bishop the remote. This was between he, God -- and Merv.

Merv Griffin: 1925-2007 -- A Man For All (TV) Seasons

So as I alluded to earlier today, I worked for Merv Griffin for 10 months (1985-86) as a talent coordinator/segment producer on "The Merv Griffin Show" toward the very end of the show's run and got to see up-close the kind of guy Merv was -- namely, warm, charming, energetic, gregarious and only moderately Hollywood-phony. What I did in my job was perform pre-interviews with the guests in advance over the telephone and then shared these notes with Merv in meetings before each show to assure there was no spontaneity whatsoever (which is generally bad for business in talk shows because you never want to catch the host unprepared). I also edited a clip into the segment if the guest was plugging something.

Anyway, this was again the final months of the syndicated show. Its "clearances" (number of cities broadcasting it) had dropped below 40, which is abysmal. It was airing at this point in Los Angeles at 3:30 a.m. (yes. a.m.), prompting me to create badges for myself and my two fellow talent coordinators that read, "It's 3:30 a.m. -- Do You Know Where Merv Griffin Is?". My cohorts talked me out of wearing mine into the meeting, reasoning that Merv would not have found this amusing. I've no doubt they saved my $600-a-week job, the pay so low because -- while I was essentially a show writer -- I wasn't billed as such since this would have put me under the far more lucrative Writers Guild scale heading.

Anyway, I add this parenthetically and not as a shot at Merv, whose show producer Peter Barsocchini took a chance on me despite my having never before worked in TV. The gig proved a great education in how Hollywood works behind the scenes. Let's just say "The Larry Sanders Show" didn't quite go far enough.

I learned some things the hard way. In my very first pre-show meeting with Merv, it somehow struck me as a good idea to endear myself to The Big Man by telling a joke. Ah, youth. So I interrupt the flow of the meeting to toss in my joke (the details of which now escape me), which is met by stony silence from Merv and a stare that says, "Nice try, bucko, but your job here is to give me the notes and SHUT UP!" As soon as the meeting broke up, my fellow talent coordinators Andy and Lisa took me aside and frantically got me up to speed.

"Oh my God! What were you doing in there? Are you crazy? Do you want to get fired before you even get started!" screamed Andy.

"No one is funnier than Merv," continued Lisa. "Got that? I guess we should have warned you..."

"...but we didn't think you'd be that dumb, to be perfectly honest," concluded Andy.

Lesson Number 1, learned.

Again, this was not indicative of my time there with Merv, who generally went out of his way to be kind and helpful and was not as a rule cruel or in the habit of pulling rank. But it was Merv's show, and you never pretended this was somehow a democracy.

Near the end, the show wasn't earning a nickel and was at best treading water in the markets where it aired. But Merv's talk show remained the only one that even made the attempt to serve up something more than the plug-o-rama promo tour. He'd have authors, intellectuals, spiritualists, politicians, New Age-y types and a host of unknowns whom he simply thought were talented and deserving of a break. (Bill Maher was one such guest back in the mid-1980s.) As the show wound down, however, Merv kept it going as long as he could as an excuse to chat with his friends.

Anecdotes from the show abound. They'll be up straightaway in Part 2 of this post, coming soon to a monitor near you.

(Photo courtesy Arthur Schatz, Time & Life Pictures/Getty Images -- 1967)

10 Things You Probably Didn't Know About Merv Griffin

10. Griffin employed Johnny Carson's brother, Dick Carson, as the director on his eponymous talk show. It tells you a little bit about Johnny's relationship with his brother, as "The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson" was in production at the same time as Merv's show was...and Dick worked for Merv.

9. It was said that Johnny was insanely jealous of Merv's wealth even though Carson was hardly a pauper. Johnny was perhaps a better stage personality than was Merv, but Merv was 10 times the businessman. And Merv got a great chuckle out of Johnny's purported money envy.

8. Griffin would each year invite his entire staff to his Hollywood Hills mansion for an Oscar Night bash, which always proved lavish and impressive. It was a classy touch that helped breed affection in the rank-and-file.

7. Merv was said to favor Vanna White as the letter-turner for "Wheel of Fortune" not because she was particularly good with the alphabet but because she had "a big head," and big heads are thought to read better on TV.

6. When he received a phone call, Merv would answer the phone by booming, "Speak!" in a fashion that was half-friendly and half-intimidating.

5. During Merv's talk show years, you always knew which diet he happened to be on by the frequency with which he featured the author or authors as guests. I'm thinking in particular about Harvey and Marilyn Diamond, who penned the bestseller "Fit For Life" in 1985 and proceeded to share the couch with Griffin several times monthly for a while.

4. He inspired intense loyalty in his employees despite often paying salaries that might be described as less than generous.

3. Merv loved to gossip and would dish with impunity behind closed doors, though almost never in a nasty way. He simply had a thing for being the showbiz raconteur, almost as much as he enjoyed singing and eating.

2. His friendship with Nancy Reagan was lifelong and genuine. They were true confidantes. It wasn't a Hollywood relationship but a human one. Nancy was said to trust no one more than she did Merv, and with his death she loses her best pal. They also shared the same birthdate: July 6. Merv was born on Nancy's 4th birthday.

1. The man enjoyed his money more than any Hollywood mogul with a billion-dollar estate ever has, sailing around the world on his yacht and indulging the good life rather than painstakingly babysitting his fortune. He lived the way we'd all like to.

Merv Griffin Has Just Died of Prostate Cancer

I just saw the flash over the wire that the great talk show impresario and entertainment mogul Merv Grffin has died of prostate cancer at age 82 at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. I'll be back to blog throughout the day about Merv, a true Rennaissance male and dynamic personality whom it happens I once worked for. I was a talent coordinator and segment producer on "The Merv Griffin Show" in 1985-86, the chat show's dying days. It was an experience.

But for right now, I mourn the passing of a guy who had a particular zest for life -- and who seemed to have way too much living yet to do to die.