Cavett - Brief encounters: conversations, magic moments, and assorted hijinks

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To the readers of the New York Times online Opinion pages, especially those who have written such erudite and entertaining responses to my columns.

If you want to leave responses to this book, you may do so at www.dickcavettshow.com Ill read every one of them. (Five points off for spelling.)

Contents

Foreword by Jimmy Fallon

T he first time I spoke to the great Dick Cavett was the night before my very first show as the new host of Late Night . I was nervous and excited and scared and happy all at the same time. I had no idea what I was about to go through. And then, out of the blue, I got a phone call from Dick Cavett.

I couldnt believe it. Dick Cavett! From The Dick Cavett Show . This is the guy who interviewed John Lennon and Yoko Ono. This is the guy who refereed the classic argument between Norman Mailer and Gore Vidal. This is the guy who, when Mailer taunted him by saying, Why dont you look at your question sheet and ask a question? responded, Why dont you fold it five ways and put it where the moon dont shine? And here I was talking to him. Whaaaaaaaaat?

Well, he couldnt have been nicer and more generous. He said he was rooting for me and wished me luck hosting the show, and Ill never forget the advice he gave me. (I think it was about listening to people when they talk. Or something like that.) By the end of the call he had calmed me down and made me feel better. Then I asked him for his number and he told me to write it down on a piece of paper, fold it five ways, and put it where the moon dont shine.

Anyway, it was also during that phone call that he first told me he was writing these stories that would eventually become this book. Funny and poignant stories and essays about his life, his career, family, politicsits all here. So intelligent and witty and charming and innocent. Kind of like Dick Cavett himself. So sit back, relax, and enjoy this book. I know I did. I mean, I love books. Dont you just love books? I love the way they feel. The way they smell. Of course, I read them mostly on a Kindle now. But I still miss the smell of books. Hey!I just thought of something. Maybe they should invent a candle that smells like a book. That way you can light the candle before you start reading your Kindle, and itll smell like youre reading in a library. They can call it the Kindle Candle. Wow! Thats a great idea. Can I trademark that??? Holy crap. Im gonna be rich!!! I have to call my lawyer.

Okay, enjoy Brief Encounters . And Dick, if youre reading this, let me know if you want in on the ground floor of the Kindle Candle thing. Either way, call me. I havent heard from you since my first show five years ago.

J IMMY

Dreams, Let Up on Us!

Will Shakespeare told us, in that line always misquoted with the word ofeven by Bogey in The Maltese Falcon that we are such stuff as dreams are made on. If theyre in fact what were made on, its a mixed blessing.

We know that much of Freuds work has been repudiated and disparaged by the psychiatric world. Particularly his dream symbolism. But Ive seen dream analysis work. When in treatmentthat lovely euphemism for getting your head shrunkwith the brilliant Dr. Willard Gaylin, I would come in with a mishmash of a dream and, feature by crazy feature, he would elucidate it. It wasand can we now retire this word for at least a decade, young people?awesome.

Some people claim they never dream. There are times when I wish I were one of them.

There are two types of dream that rate, for me at least, the word nightmare. The buggers are the Actors Dream and the Exam Dream. If youve never endured either of these, count yourself lucky. Maybe Im getting your share.

The question I can never find an answer to is the one that makes dreams so mysterious. When you watch a movie or read a story you dont know whats coming next. Youre surprised by what happens as it unfolds. You know that someone wrote the book or made the movie.

But who in hell is the author of the dream? How can it be anyone but you? But how can it be you if its all new to you, if you dont know whats coming? Do you write the dream, then hide it from yourself, forget it, and then sit out front and watch it? Everything in it is a surprise, pleasant or unpleasant. And, unlike a book or film, you cant fast-forward to see how it comes out. So where does it come from? And who wrote it?

(I apologize if Ive led you to think I have the answers.)

What shows you the dream and at the same time blinds you to its source? The mechanism has to be ingeniously complex to pull this stunt off. But it seems that the complexity of the human brain is too, well, complex for that same brain to understand.

A nice puzzle.

Im not sure Ive ever met anyone who hasnt had the Exam Dream. (Do people who havent been to school get this dream, or are they immune to the torture?)

There you are in the classroom, trying desperately to get a peek at someone elses paper, but theyve just turned the page as you writhe in the realization that you forgot to study.

Why, this far from ones education, does one (or at least I) still get the damned dream?

Once I awoke in a sweat from it, walked around a little to shake it off, calmed down, and went back to sleep, only to be blindsided that same night by the Actors Dream.

Every actor gets it, even people who have only been in the school play. Youre backstage, about to go on, and desperately trying to find a copy of the play to get at least your first line or two, but no one has a script. How did you get to opening night and fail to learn a single line?

Youre plagued with How did I do this to myself? and Am I even wearing the right costume? and Do I go out there and try to ad-lib a part I dont know, maybe getting a few lines right by chance? and In a moment Ill step out there and make an ass of myself, let down and embarrass my fellow actors, and probably be fired on the spot as they give peoples money back. It goes on and on and wont let up on you.

The merciful release at the much-too-late-in-coming realization Oh, thank God, its a dream! leaves you limp.

Freud, the Viennese quack (Nabokov), is said to have pointed out that the mental agony of an excruciating dream is always far worse than the real situation would be.

Its true.

Logic tells you that in waking real life you probably wouldnt get into the situation you lie there suffering and blaming yourself for. The rich variety of hateful anxiety dreams can be about anything: not having studied; having lost your passport in an unfamiliar land; getting hopelessly lost in the woods; being late for and unable to find your own wedding; having let your pet get lost; and the myriad other sleeping torture plots the mind is heir to.

The psychic pain is acute. And even if these things did happen, awful as they would be, why must the psychic pain be ten times more excruciating in the dream than it would be in real life?

Who does this to us? Who or what is the sadistic force operating on us here? Its hard to admit, but doesnt it have to be ourselves?

Then why are we doing it to ourselves? What did we do to deserve it? And does it all stand for something about us thats so awful it has to be disguised as something else in the dream?