If You Ask Me - Betty White [8]
It’s always a joy to know your castmates.
I’ve known Carl Reiner for years. Lately, he’s been appearing on Hot in Cleveland as a guest star in a recurring role—my character’s boyfriend, no less.
Carl Reiner and Allen were in the Army together in World War II in the Pacific. I met Carl one night years later, when Allen had all the guys from his outfit over to our house. There was Mort Lindsey and Howie Morris and Harry David and Carl. No wives were invited. So I fixed a couple of big casseroles for the fellas and took the dogs upstairs to the bedroom. I wasn’t allowed downstairs—it was one of those guys’ nights out.
Carl recently told me, “I wouldn’t have a career without Captain Ludden.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, and said so.
Carl told me about this entertainment group Allen was in, called the Army Entertainment Section. Carl had written some material and stood up one night in front of the guys and read it.
Allen said, “You’ve got to do more of that.”
Maurice Evans was also in the outfit, so Allen got Maurice to take the material to a producer, and Carl was off and running. He continued to be a writer but also went on to become one of our great comedians. It took a Shakespearean actor and a game-show host to make it happen in the beginning, but Carl took it from there.
Today, every so often, Carl will say to me, “Wouldn’t Allen get a kick out of this if he were here—seeing us working together?”
I don’t tell Carl, but I think Allen is getting a kick out of it, because he’s never very far from me. Ever.
With Carl Reiner on the set of Hot in Cleveland.
TV LAND/THE KOBAL COLLECTION
THE RED CARPET
Several times throughout this opus, I mention how much I love this business I’m in. And I mean every word of it.
But for all the things I enjoy about it, if ever I’m asked if there’s something I don’t like, the answer is a resounding Yes.
Red-carpet events.
Don’t get me wrong. When I’m at home watching television, I love seeing who’s there and what they’re wearing. But when you’re the walkee, it can be an absolute nightmare.
In real life, you step out of the car and immediately you’re struck blind and deaf as you’re greeted by a line of photographers armed with flash cameras and microphone-wielding television reporters, three deep, all shouting at you.
Betty!
Betty!
Over here!
Betty, look here!
Look up, Betty!
Mrs. Ludden! (They know that will get my attention!)
With all the flashing lights and the noise, you tend to lose your balance. All of a sudden, you’re staggering and you’re sure people are thinking, Oh, she’s had a few!
The lights are glaring and the noise is horrendous, but you try to be as polite as possible, because these aren’t villains, they’re just people trying to do their jobs.
Sometimes the function has somebody who takes you down the carpet. For instance, TV Land will send someone if the four of us are doing the event. But always, I also have Jeff walking behind me, at the edge of the media zone, off the red carpet. Riding shotgun, which I need.
Historically, premieres have always had these red-carpet events. But the process has taken on new proportions of late. Every event has a system of protocol, and the number of stars and reporters and photographers and media outlets just seems to grow and grow.
It feels like everyone’s there with a microphone. And I know a lot of them—we do interviews all through the year. So as you’re stumbling around, you’re trying to talk to all sorts of different people. Usually a representative from the project (whatever project it may be) guides you to various reporters along the way—likely, they mix and match us along the way, to be fair to all the outlets. But you can’t really hear what they’re saying, given all the noise, so you just keep talking and hope you’re making some kind of sense. It’s all seat-of-the-pants.
You can’t resent it—it’s a necessary evil to promote a project. It’s a hazard one just has to get over.
It’s not my favorite part of my job. Have you noticed?
I would rather go to the dentist for a root canal.