Private Parts (42 page)

Star Wars
Chapter 13

I'm good at starting fights, always have been. Even as a kid I would turn to my sister and tell her I was heading downstairs to get Mom and Dad worked up. My dad would come home from work around 7:00 p.m. and quickly race to the dinner table. After putting in a long day, he was tired and it was time to eat. I'd sit at the table waiting to start a little trouble. My father's partner in the recording studio had started a small record label called Ping Pong, which annoyed and frustrated my dad. The very words
Ping Pong
could set him off.

MOM: How was your day, Ben?

DAD: Good, good.

ME: Hey, Dad, anything going on with Ping

Pong? . . .
Ping Pong?

DAD: Shut up!

ME: Just kidding.

DAD: Don't you know how to shut up?! Even a moron knows to sit quiet at the table.

ME: Hey, I was just saying Ping Pong.

MOM: You know your father doesn't like that. What's wrong with you?

ME: I'm proud of Ping Pong. I just want to know more about it.

Within minutes my father would be threatening me, my mother would be yelling, and I was ecstatic. It was real drama. And to think I make a living doing the same thing today, by pushing people's buttons and getting them to fight on the radio. One time there was a traffic guy at WNBC who was a Vietnam vet. I respect vets and I'm genuinely curious about combat experiences. I asked the guy if he had killed any gooks in 'Nam and the guy went nuts, and he complained to the general manager. The next day the general manager gave me a good reaming and said that I should deliver an on-air apology. Of course I protested. I never apologized, but I did tell him on the air that if I offended him in any way I certainly hadn't intended to do so. He was very understanding and just as he was signing off I said, "So, did you or didn't you kill any gooks?" The guy went nuts and changed his shift to another show.

The traffic reporter who I believe
really
disliked me was Roz Frank. When I first came to WNBC I had to kiss Roz's ass because they told me she was a bigger star than I was. We'd get into on-air fights all the time.

Then she got pissed at me for an interview I did with the
New York Post.
They asked me if I was at war with Roz, so I told them that I really liked Roz except for her eye cheese. She called me at home, screaming at me to cut the shit. But I got her another way. Before she went on the air, Roz always cleared her throat. We recorded that and every time, right before she came on with her

report, we rolled the tape of her clearing her throat. We even used to play Celebrity Phlegm and have listeners call in to identify it.

One time I got the entire staff of K-Rock's sister Spanish station pissed off. They were hiring the Spanish Dr. Ruth, a big star, and the general manager of the station, Frank Flores, told me that they were having this big press conference and he made me swear that I would leave his press conference alone. Every major Latino newspaper would be there.

I couldn't help myself. It was as if Satan got inside me. I went to this serious press conference and stood outside the doorway and held up signs that read "Castro Rules" and "Give Me Back My Hubcaps." They went nuts. None of the Spanish people from the station ever spoke to me again.

Some of my guests cry at the slightest provocation. I made Wham wince when they sat down and the first question I asked them was, "Let's solve this once and for all: Are you guys gay?" They denied it. I've made Richard Simmons cry a hundred times, but that's easy.

The last person to cry on my show was comedienne Judy Tenuta, and it wasn't even my fault. She cried because Sam Kinison and Penn Jillette ganged up on her. Before Judy came into the room Sam offered me five crisp, new hundred-dollar bills if I got Judy to show us her breasts.

As soon as Judy showed up, Sam and Judy started going at it. Judy started goofing on Sam's young girlfriend, Malika, and her sister, Sabrina, whom Sam was also doing. Sam wouldn't take shit from anyone and he came back at Judy with a vengeance. He kept attacking her relationship with Emo Phillips, the comedian, because Judy kept their marriage a secret.

"Judy thinks she can just come in here and slap and abuse every man in this room just because Emo turned out to be such a disappointment in her life," Sam said.

"I don't hang out in day-care centers," Judy snarled.

"We're the enemy just because we share genitalia with this disappointment you call your boyfriend. You're not even proud enough of him to claim him as your man," Sam bellowed. "Emo's probably locked in your trunk outside!
'I've been good, can I come out?'
"

"Yeah, like your poodles aren't on a leash outside," Judy shrilled. They were going at it pretty good.

Finally Penn decided to do a card trick. He pulled out a deck of cards and he had Sam pick one.

"Howard is a Buddhist monk in heat."

-- Judy Tenuta

"I'm putting it back in the deck, shuffling it, remember the card, visualize it clearly. Okay, okay, Judy, now take off your top," Penn said. Judy was pissed. "It didn't work," I said.

"I have to go," Judy suddenly said, and stormed out of the studio. We were all in shock. Judy was upset because she thought she was coming on alone.

"Tell her, 'Welcome to comedy and show biz on the same day,' " Sam said. He was Mr. Sensitive. "When she came in she wasn't wearing white slacks. Maybe it was a special day."

Penn, who had run out into the hall to apologize to Judy, came back in. "I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. I SAY ONE THING AND
I'M
THE SCHMUCK," he screamed. Penn suddenly jumped up and pointed at Sam. "THIS RAT BASTARD SET ME UP. HE PUT MY COMEDY BALLS UP AGAINST THE WALL. SAM GOT HER ANGRY... AND SHE COMES DOWN ON ME. I'M FROM MASSACHUSETTS, I DON'T NEED THIS. I'M GETTING OUT." Penn made like he was walking out.

Gary came back in and told us that Judy was crying when she left, saying she didn't have to take that crap, that she was ganged up on. "I can't imagine this crew being accused of ganging up. I wouldn't team up with anybody here," Penn said.

"I bet she's driving home sitting on a towel," Sam laughed. "I just wish Emo would grab Judy's hair and use it like the bridle of a horse and ride her into a wall."

Sam then told a story about the time he went to see Judy do a show in Denver years

ago and they had a little makeout session.

I felt really bad Judy left the show. The next morning, I arranged for her to come up again, this time alone.

"I love Sam. I can't help it if he was acting like a baboon in heat," I said.

"I was just surprised you had the whole small primate house in here. And I was
not
crying," Judy started off.

"You were crying like Roseanne Barr had just stepped on your foot," I said.

"And I didn't make out with Sam in Denver. He was like Jabba

the Hut with blow. He came backstage, I didn't even know who he was."

Suddenly, the hot line rang. I knew who it was without answering.

"JABBA THE HUT? YOU ACNE-FACED ..." Sam screamed. "I DEFENDED YOU YESTERDAY. I SAID ROSEANNE BARR STOLE EVERYTHING FROM YOU AND YOU RIP ME WITH 'JABBA THE HUT WITH BLOW'? YOU'RE MAKING A STUPID CAREER MOVE TO MESS WITH ME."

"I guess it's fair that you said I should have my head rammed into a wall?" Judy countered.

"I can overreact, too," Sam said. "It's not a female prerogative."

"You two should kiss again and make up. Like in Denver," I said.

"Sam, I'm sorry, I was making a little joke," Judy apologized.

"I got to go on a diet. That's my only vulnerable attack point," Sam said. "I love you, Judy. I think you're the best. If I hurt your feelings yesterday I'm sorry and I apologize."

"I FEEL SO GOOD NOW, SAM, I'M GOING TO CRY," Judy wailed.

"It's good you two kids made up," I said, "but this sucks for my ratings."

WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE

One of my most celebrated on-air feuds began with a simple dispute I had with the rock group Bon Jovi and culminated in a knockdown, drag-out affair between Sam Kinison and me. It started very innocently when I got pissed at Bon Jovi for going on radio stations like Z-100 and WNEW to promote their new album yet shunning my show. I was mad because we were the only show to promote Bon Jovi when they were nobodies. I had what I thought was a good relationship with three guys in the band -- Jon Bon Jovi, Richie Sambora, and David Bryan.

One of my loyal listeners gave me Jon's home phone number, so I called him on the air and asked him why he wouldn't do my show. He gave me some lame excuse that the record company stopped him because the other stations threatened not to play the record if he came on with me. I knew this was bullshit and I teased him for kowtowing to the record execs. I renamed him
Jon Bon Phony.

Jon sounded really contrite and offered to come over to my house, wash the car, and baby-sit my kids for restitution, but I was merciless.

"You guys wanted to get sodomized and we allowed you to have some girls in the backseat of a K-Rock limo and this is the thanks I get!" I whined. Meanwhile, here I was complaining that he wouldn't come on the air and I had already had him on for over an hour.

Then Sambora called in and I started in on him. I refused to accept his apology, I told the sodomy story again, then I warned him that Jon would dump him as fast as he dumped me.

"Go ahead, Richie, name the other two Supremes besides Diana Ross. You guys turned on me quicker than a Greek waiter." I was a hurt woman.

The next time Sam Kinison came to the show, he had a great idea. He had been hanging around with Bon Jovi and they even let him open up their show at Giants Stadium. I guess playing before seventy thousand Bon Jovi fans did something to Sam that, to this day, I can't comprehend, but he decided that he would act as peacemaker between me and Bon Jovi. He suggested that the group come in the next morning and he would referee our on-air debate. What a stroke of Kissingerian diplomacy. I immediately accepted.

The reaction was instantaneous. Baba Booey was deluged with requests from the press to cover this historic radio moment. Fred and Jackie and I convened and prepared a prefight skit. I went to sleep early to be prepared for the event. The next morning, hundreds of hairless thirteen-year-old teenyboppers in miniskirts and knee pads huddled at the front doors, awaiting their heroes' arrival. There was enough hair spray on them to knock out the entire ozone layer.

The press had shown up in full force and we had set them up in a separate room. We were waiting for Sam and the guys to show.

By 8:301 started getting pissed. We decided to run the predebate skit anyway. I had recorded a goofy parody of those stupid prefight profiles. Over that dumb
Rocky-type
music I did my best sports announcer:

"Welcome to the 'Wide World of Sports.' They're calling it the 'War on the Fourth Floor.' It all started back when Howard Stern befriend
ed

these young boys and put them on Dial-a-Date. But it all went sour since the boys got famous. Wasn't it Jon Bon Jovi who once said, 'Hey man, somebody's working my mouth, I have no opinions'? Now Howard Stern is all burned up. Just wait till they get into the vicinity of Infinity. First it was Motown versus Showtown, now if s the king of Madison Avenue versus the tampon-wearing, mousse-using Polygram pussies. Polygram Records tells them to kowtow and they do! Even though the man makes a hundred eighty million dollars you'd think he'd get an individual thought in his head. He kowtowed and listened to the record company and did not come onto Howard Stern's show. "Thanks to the good graces of Mr. Sam Kinison, the Henry Kissinger of Comedy, they'll come onto the show today and either bury the hatchet or sever the relationship forever.
780QP Fahrenheit
was the title of one of their cut-out records but it'll get warmer in here if those sanitary-belt-sniffing sissies show up."

On the set of my E! "Interview" show with Richie
Sambora and Jon Bon Jovi.

It was almost nine by now and I realized that I had been had. They weren't showing up. I could believe Bon Jovi would do this to me, but Sam, one of my closest show-biz friends? HOW COULD HE TURN ON ME LIKE THIS? I had only one recourse. I grabbed the mike and proclaimed Andrew "Dice" Clay, Sam's arch rival, the new king of comedy:

"Good-bye, Sam, nice knowing you. Don't burn your friends. I've had it with you! Dice Clay is the future! Dice works his ass off, he's not passed out in some room. Everyone's laughing at me. We'll see who has the last laugh. Five pussies from Sayreville, New Jersey, chump pussies who hit it lucky. We'll see what happens when they're on tour with Iron Butterfly. I expect something like this from Bon Douchee. It's Kinison I don't understand. What is that all about? Sam's upset I put Dice on. Who cares? I put a lot of comedians on. Maybe he's insecure because he hasn't come up with any new material in a while.

"I wonder why any girls are with Sam. Guess if s his Rob Lowe looks. Believe me, I could get Malika. Lef s see where those girls'll be when he goes through all his money. I don't hear people talk about Sam anymore, all I hear is people talking about Dice. Think Sam finished his ninth ham-and-egg sandwich this morning yet? What a phony. I'm sitting here with a knot in my stomach."

I thought of my coworkers. Imagine how embarrassed Gary was, having to go into a room full of press and say we got burned. That was even more embarrassing than parking Robin's car every morning.

"Sam is dead to me!" I pronounced. "He used Jessica like toilet paper and threw her away. Maybe she is a little wacky, but she's a woman and she does have feelings. It's like taking advantage of a retarded girl. You can run and you can hide but you can't dodge my airwaves, dude. Wait until you see the power I have, wait until you walk down the streets of New York and people scream how bloated and fat you are! When you see Sam tell him that DICE IS YOUR GOD! If you're going to Sam's show tonight just chant 'DICE FOREVER, TROLL NEVER.'"