When I first moved to Los Angeles in 1981 I found a studio apartment in the Hollywood Hills. It was typical of the time, a pool; a couple of palm trees and a collection of Show Biz have beens, wannabees, and support players.
One of my neighbors was the location manager for the show Fame. He would give me odd jobs, such as guarding the sets when they were on location and didn’t want to break the set down for the night. I loved it. Basically there was almost nothing to do but exist. The pay was both over and golden time because the bulk of it took place after midnight. I could clear over $500 in a weekend. As my rent was in the mid 300’s this was a serious windfall.
One of the gigs Tony got for me early in 1982 was being a runner for Art Carney when he was guest starring on the show. He and Ray Walston were playing janitors at the school who were once song and dance men. And that’s how I found myself in a set made up to look like an alley with these two great comic actors both sitting on overturned buckets, dressed in dirty pants and wife beaters.
It was the day John Belushi died.
The set was pretty bummed out as you can imagine but Art and Ray hadn’t really heard of Belushi so it was up to me to explain to these two legends Belushi’s place in the comedy pantheon. How do you tell a guy who worked with Gleason about the death of one of the funniest fat guys ever? I talked about the drugs and Art said, “Yeah that’s why my first wife left me.” And then he went into a pantomime of a life of sex, drugs and alcohol that conveyed in a few hand gestures the whole thing. Sex, drugs, and alcohol. John Belushi was dead. He wasn’t the first. He wouldn’t be the last.
Then they asked for something to drink and I went to get them Cokes.
