I promised this tale to a friend, and decided to just make a
blog post of it.
In the late 1970s, the ad agency I worked for in Houston had Gulf Oil as a client. One of our jobs was to help write, produce, and stage their annual sales meeting. This was a big deal. There were several hundred in their sales force, and oil was at $40 a barrel. Cost was, basically, no object.
One of the Gulf executives was enamored of a popular comedian of the time, Professor Irwin Corey, “The world’s foremost authority,” and asked that we contract with him to provide entertainment one evening.
The agency Account Manager for Gulf Oil was a control freak, jug-headed German named Max. He had a marketing degree from Oklahoma State University. He’d gone to college on a football scholarship, and his primary skill was being able to speak “Oil Field.” When he relayed the client’s request, I said, “Max, I think that guy has a reputation for being pretty flakey.”
Max snarled, “I don’t want to hear about his reputation. I want to hear that you have him booked.”
The way you did things like that in those pre-internet days was that you contacted the Union and found out the name of the performer’s agent; then contacted the agent. We tried SAG/Aftra, no record. We tried Actor’s Equity, no record. Finally I remembered the most obscure of the performers unions, AGVA (American Guild of Variety Artists.) This was the union for the Rockettes, Las Vegas show girls, circus performers, and strippers. Called them. After a long while, the rep came back on the phone and said, “Yeah, he’s ours, but he doesn’t have an agent, here’s a phone number.”
In the late 1970s, the ad agency I worked for in Houston had Gulf Oil as a client. One of our jobs was to help write, produce, and stage their annual sales meeting. This was a big deal. There were several hundred in their sales force, and oil was at $40 a barrel. Cost was, basically, no object.
One of the Gulf executives was enamored of a popular comedian of the time, Professor Irwin Corey, “The world’s foremost authority,” and asked that we contract with him to provide entertainment one evening.
The agency Account Manager for Gulf Oil was a control freak, jug-headed German named Max. He had a marketing degree from Oklahoma State University. He’d gone to college on a football scholarship, and his primary skill was being able to speak “Oil Field.” When he relayed the client’s request, I said, “Max, I think that guy has a reputation for being pretty flakey.”
Max snarled, “I don’t want to hear about his reputation. I want to hear that you have him booked.”
The way you did things like that in those pre-internet days was that you contacted the Union and found out the name of the performer’s agent; then contacted the agent. We tried SAG/Aftra, no record. We tried Actor’s Equity, no record. Finally I remembered the most obscure of the performers unions, AGVA (American Guild of Variety Artists.) This was the union for the Rockettes, Las Vegas show girls, circus performers, and strippers. Called them. After a long while, the rep came back on the phone and said, “Yeah, he’s ours, but he doesn’t have an agent, here’s a phone number.”
Corey answered the phone himself. I explained the call, and said, “Is there an
agent I should negotiate with?” He blew
up. “Agent’s rob you.”
I got the feeling he was about to slam down the phone so quickly said, “Fine, fine. Let’s make a deal.” And went on to explain the date of the gig, 6 months out, and that it was in Atlanta—the site of that year’s meeting.
I got the feeling he was about to slam down the phone so quickly said, “Fine, fine. Let’s make a deal.” And went on to explain the date of the gig, 6 months out, and that it was in Atlanta—the site of that year’s meeting.
He said, “I don’t book that far out. Call me back.”.
I yelled, “Wait! Our client demands we have this all nailed
down within the next two weeks.”
He said, “How much you paying?”
I had a budget of $15,000 plus expenses, but was not a negotiating novice. I said, “What’s your rate?”
He said, “I won’t take a penny less than $10,000, plus First Class Airfare.”
I agreed, and said, “Now, about…..”
He said, “Wait, dammit. That’s $10,000 cash, no bill bigger than a twenty, in a brown, not black, briefcase, on the bed in my hotel room when I arrive. Handle pointed toward the door. And you send me the airplane ticket to my post office box. I don’t give out my address.”
“OK.”
“And my hotel room,” he said, “must be on the 6th floor or lower. Any higher, I walk. And I keep the money.”
I said, “The views are better from higher rooms.”
He said, “Idiot, Fire Department Hook and Ladder trucks can’t reach above the sixth floor. I want to be rescued when the fire starts.”
“Fire?” I asked.
“Lots of times.” He replied.
He said, “How much you paying?”
I had a budget of $15,000 plus expenses, but was not a negotiating novice. I said, “What’s your rate?”
He said, “I won’t take a penny less than $10,000, plus First Class Airfare.”
I agreed, and said, “Now, about…..”
He said, “Wait, dammit. That’s $10,000 cash, no bill bigger than a twenty, in a brown, not black, briefcase, on the bed in my hotel room when I arrive. Handle pointed toward the door. And you send me the airplane ticket to my post office box. I don’t give out my address.”
“OK.”
“And my hotel room,” he said, “must be on the 6th floor or lower. Any higher, I walk. And I keep the money.”
I said, “The views are better from higher rooms.”
He said, “Idiot, Fire Department Hook and Ladder trucks can’t reach above the sixth floor. I want to be rescued when the fire starts.”
“Fire?” I asked.
“Lots of times.” He replied.
“OK. Now, Mr. Corey,…..”
“Professor,” he interrupted.
“OK, professor, what are your requirements for your dressing room?”
“I won’t use a dressing room. Don’t trust ‘em. I’ll come dressed. They trap you in dressing rooms.”
“OK. And do you have a list of music and light cues?”
“I’ll see if I trust them when I get there.”
So, the deal was struck.
We got to Atlanta, got a briefcase for $9.99 from an office supply store, and went to a bank where one of the Gulf biggies had a friend who would agree to hand over $10,000 cash in small bills. This particular Gulf guy was one of my favorites. An oil executive who actually had a sense of humor. So, as we’re putting the banded bills into the briefcase, the banker says, “What do you need this for?”
“Professor,” he interrupted.
“OK, professor, what are your requirements for your dressing room?”
“I won’t use a dressing room. Don’t trust ‘em. I’ll come dressed. They trap you in dressing rooms.”
“OK. And do you have a list of music and light cues?”
“I’ll see if I trust them when I get there.”
So, the deal was struck.
We got to Atlanta, got a briefcase for $9.99 from an office supply store, and went to a bank where one of the Gulf biggies had a friend who would agree to hand over $10,000 cash in small bills. This particular Gulf guy was one of my favorites. An oil executive who actually had a sense of humor. So, as we’re putting the banded bills into the briefcase, the banker says, “What do you need this for?”
The Gulf guy picks up the case, says, “If you’re a loyal American, you won’t
ask,” and walks out of the bank.
We took the money to the fifth floor hotel room, put it on
the bed, and waited for the “talent” to arrive. We had sent a limo to the airport to meet the flight.
The limo driver calls from the airport and says that Corey never showed.
Luckily, before we could panic, we get a call from the hotel front desk that a bum was in the lobby making a scene and yelling that we were supposed to meet him. Yep. Sure enough.
It turns out, he had cashed the First Class ticket, and ridden Greyhound from NY to Atlanta. I asked him about it, and he said, “Kid, stay off of airplanes. They have bankers on ‘em.”
The limo driver calls from the airport and says that Corey never showed.
Luckily, before we could panic, we get a call from the hotel front desk that a bum was in the lobby making a scene and yelling that we were supposed to meet him. Yep. Sure enough.
It turns out, he had cashed the First Class ticket, and ridden Greyhound from NY to Atlanta. I asked him about it, and he said, “Kid, stay off of airplanes. They have bankers on ‘em.”
At the theater, we tried to show him his dressing room, and
he just said, “You’re not trapping me.” He walked on to the stage and looked
around nodding. I said, “About your
light cues..”
He said, “Yeah, light the stage for me.” And refused to elaborate.
I said, “If you aren’t in your dressing room, how will we find you when it’s time for your act?”
He said, “You just have them announce me. That’s all you got to worry about.”
So, an evening of boring corporate speeches from the stage, then time for the comic, who had not been seen since afternoon, and could not be found back stage. Control freak Max was showing signs of a classic stress breakdown. I soothed him by saying, “You told me you didn’t want to hear about his reputation.”
With fingers crossed, and breath held, we had the MC introduce the comedian.
He comes climbing onto the stage from the orchestra pit. He then does about 40 minutes of the funniest material I have ever heard, and walks off stage Right into the back stage darkness. And, I guess, leaves, because we never saw him again.
He said, “Yeah, light the stage for me.” And refused to elaborate.
I said, “If you aren’t in your dressing room, how will we find you when it’s time for your act?”
He said, “You just have them announce me. That’s all you got to worry about.”
So, an evening of boring corporate speeches from the stage, then time for the comic, who had not been seen since afternoon, and could not be found back stage. Control freak Max was showing signs of a classic stress breakdown. I soothed him by saying, “You told me you didn’t want to hear about his reputation.”
With fingers crossed, and breath held, we had the MC introduce the comedian.
He comes climbing onto the stage from the orchestra pit. He then does about 40 minutes of the funniest material I have ever heard, and walks off stage Right into the back stage darkness. And, I guess, leaves, because we never saw him again.
