Kup's Chicago - Irv Kupcinet [106]
We also use three cameras, two of which are hidden, and we disconnect the red cue lights which customarily indicate at all times which camera is “on.” Realizing that it is impossible to know where camera is “live,” everyone tends to forget the existence of the equipment. In this way, extroverts are discouraged from any tendency to “play” to the camera, and introverts are less likely to develop lens fright.
This striving for spontaneity also is one reason that I remain on the side lines as much as possible (which isn’t easy when a discussion warms up). And it is also why I don’t steer the conversation in a new direction the moment it begins to lag slightly.
For it is often at this point that a guest, sensing that the time is ripe, will change the subject himself – carrying the conversation down an intriguing path that no moderator ever could have planned.
But I don’t mean to imply that no planning goes into At Random. Hours of preparation precede each show, beginning only a few hours after sign-off the week before. At that time, I begin checking my files and my memory for details on interesting personalities who are likely to be in town the following week. I also consider which resident Chicagoans might be invited to the show, and I prepare a list of potential guests. My producer, Paul Frumkin, does the same, and lists his ideas. On Tuesday afternoon Paul, Phil Ruskin, and I huddle at the WBBM-TV studios to decide on a tentative line-up.
Sometimes, of course, invitations must be tendered weeks in advance. This was the case with a panel of Nobel prize-winners, and later with former Vice-President Richard M. Nixon. And because many of At Random’s guests are busy people on tight schedules – especially the dignitaries visiting from foreign countries – acceptances are sometimes not forthcoming until just a day or two before the show.
As soon as anyone becomes a likely guest, Frumkin and I immediately begin doing research on him. In spare moments during the week, during all of Friday evening, and during most of Saturday afternoon and evening, I study this material so I’ll have it firmly in mind during the show. It is often a surprise to guests that we know so much about them. But only in this way can we draw the best from each of them, and make the show authoritative.
One other essential ingredient of the show: coffee. At Random runs on it – at least two one-pound cans per program. We keep two thirty-two-cup urns operating at all times, not only to refuel those of us on both sides of the cameras in the studio itself, but also to refresh visitors in a viewing room nearby. A huge mound of sandwiches is also consumed during each show.
In spite of all our planning, however, there are anxious moments connected with almost every program. The arrival of out-of-town guests is frequently a cause for worry. Because there is always a chance of transportation difficulties, we never count them present until they are actually seated in the studio. On one occasion, Robert Briscoe, Lord Mayor of Dublin, was due to fly from Ireland and arrive in Chicago a few hours before showtime. At 11:30, the usual assembly time for guests, there was no Briscoe. Finally, just at midnight, he telephoned from O’Hare International Airport. He had just landed, after a trip repeatedly delayed because of weather. He faced a heavy schedule the next day and you could tell from his voice that he was too exhausted to speak to anyone, let alone to one million alert viewers of a three-hour post-midnight TV show. Regretfully we invited him back for a later date and the show went on without him.
Making connections with former Vice-President Richard M. Nixon in May 1961 proved to be even more hectic. It was to be his first visit to Chicago since the Presidential election of the year before. His schedule was crowded and it would be impossible for him to remain in town through Saturday night, so I had arranged with him and the other guests to videotape the