Mohr - Gasping For Airtime: Two Years In The Trenches Of Saturday Night Live

PROLOGUE
HAPPY HOUR

ONE
COMEDY IS TRUTH THE MOMENT BEFORE ANTICIPATION

TWO
DUDE, HOW DID YOU GET ON SNL?

THREE
A KNEE IN THE GROIN

FOUR
MONDAY, WEDNESDAY, TUESDAY

FIVE
SWIMMING WITH SHARKS

SIX
PLAYING WELL WITH OTHERS

SEVEN
FIGHT OR FLIGHT?

EIGHT
THE MOTIVATIONAL SPEAKER

NINE
MUSIC FOR THE SOUL

TEN
FAKE PITCHES

ELEVEN
FROM THE CRADLE

TWELVE
DRESSING DOWN

THIRTEEN
GOOD MORNING, BROOKLYN

FOURTEEN
LORNE

FIFTEEN
WEEKEND UPDATE

SIXTEEN
GIVE ME LITTLE BITS OF MORE THAN I CAN TAKE

EPILOGUE
PHIL HARTMAN, U.S.A.

I T WAS glorious. I was sitting in the back of a restaurant at 2:00 A.M . with Lorne Michaels on my left, Patti Reagan on my right, and the entire cast and crew of Saturday Night Live spread out before us. Pattis tits were pushed up to her chin and she was dripping with diamonds. I couldnt help noticing that she had a piece of spinach stuck to her two front teeth, making it appear as if they had been knocked out in a bar fight. She was really drunk and she wasnt saying much, so she was easy to ignore. Lorne, however, was looking typically regal and totally relaxed, and he was treating me like I was his new neighbor in the Hamptons who dropped in for an afternoon cocktail. It was all very pleasant.

I had been off Saturday Night Live for nearly a year, and I certainly hadnt expected to be in this place at this time. But because the show is always the best party in town, I had returned to watch a taping and then dropped by the traditional wrap party. From the moment I walked into 30 Rock earlier that evening, I felt like the prodigal featured player returning home. Access was easier than when I was on the show. Heads nodded, velvet ropes were unhinged, checkpoints were passed. No one had asked for my ID or my special night badge. The feeling was: Hes one of us. Hes with the show.

John Goodman was the host. Though he had cohosted with Dan Aykroyd during my second season, I had no idea that he knew me from the wallpaper until that night. As he barreled past me in full costume ninety seconds before one of his sketches aired, Goodman stopped in his tracks, did a 180, and faced me. Jay, how you doing? he asked. He offered me his giant hand for a quick handshake and then continued his dash to the stage. Man, did I feel like a big shot.

Even the wrap party felt familiar. There were the same three layers of defense. At the bar in the front of the room were the electricians, grips, cue card holders, and interns knocking back drinks. These were the people who worked the hardest during the week. They deserved the bar to themselves. Past the bar were the tables where the cast members sat eating dinner. And in the back of the room were the tables reserved for the producers, the musical guests, the host, and of course, Lorne. But as I drifted through the restaurant, a strange sensation came over me. I felt as if I didnt know anyone, even though I recognized nearly everyone.

I did say hello to a few of the performers who had been on during my two years, like David Spade, Norm Macdonald, and Tim Meadows, but I wasnt about to sit down with them and swap war stories. I wouldnt have known what to say because nothing on the outside ever had any relevance to what happened inside Saturday Night Live. Norm was a guy who wouldnt be able to talk his way out of a mental hospital. If most people were committed, they would eventually convince the doctor that a terrible mistake had been made. Not Norm. He would be there the rest of his life, saying things like I notice Im wearing a gown and So you really want me to pee in that bedpan. Spade was only on the show so he could sleep with models, and what could I possibly say to Tim Meadows? The guy had been on the show so long that his nickname shouldve been grandfather clause.

Just as I was feeling as though it might be time to leave, I realized that I had somehow made my way through the restaurant to the producers corner and was standing directly in front of Lornes table. My initial thought was to shake his hand, say hello, and be done with the niceties, but Lorne gave me a disarmingly warm greeting and motioned for me to sit down next to him.

Usually Lornes table was like a receiving line, yet over the next hour almost no one interrupted because we were so obviously deep in conversation. When someone did stop by to offer the proverbial great show, Lorne would give them a politely dismissive handshake like Ray Liotta in Goodfellas. He made it clear that he was talking to me. And we were deep in conversation.

How are you? How are things? he was asking me. He seemed to mean it, because he waited to hear my answer and then pressed me for details. I filled him in on my life as Wayne Foxworthy on The Jeff Foxworthy Show and talked about auditioning for movies. Thats great, he affirmed. Movies would be great for you. At one point, he asked me if I was hungry. You should eat, he said paternally. You know whats really good here is the penne pasta with rock shrimp.

At first I had felt like I had intruded on Lorne and Patti Reagan. But I soon realized that she was really hammered and Lorne was more interested in talking to me than President Reagans sloshed daughter. At some point she left.

My conversation with Lorne drifted into relationships and life lessons. Hows Nicole? Lorne asked, naming my girlfriend without prompting. He told me that every man should have three wivesone in his twenties, one in his thirties and forties, and one in his fifties, when he knows what he really wants. Lorne had followed that path, and had a son with his third wife.

We were talking as equalsequals of sorts, anywaybecause I no longer worked for him. I liked the man more than I ever hadeven more than when I was sitting in his office and he told me that I was the future of Saturday Night Live.

At 3:00 A.M . we both picked up our coats and walked out together. Just before Lorne stepped into his limo, he turned to me. It was really good to see you again, Jay, he said. I assured him the feeling was mutual.

As Lornes car drove away, I began to hail a cab but was stopped by Max, the shows transportation captain. Max had just witnessed Lorne and me parting company. He asked if I was going home, and I told him I was. He motioned for a black Lincoln Town Car to move forward and take me home.

It was the first time I truly felt like I belonged to one of the greatest traditions in television history.

I WAS sitting on a couch all alone in the writers room feeling like an idiot.