In 1980-81 I lived in LA for eight months appearing in TABLE SETTINGS at the Matrix Theater. Almost every night, after the show, most of the cast would head over to a bar/restaurant called Kathy Gallagher’s in West Hollywood. Many performers hang there until closing time and one night I was at the bar in long conversation with the congenial guy next to me. I forget most of the conversation (girls?, LA lifestyle? Movies?) but at one point he asked what I was doing in LA. I told him I was an actor, signing test deals with the networks and appearing in a play. I asked what he did. “I play keyboards”, he replied. “Really? I played piano and played keyboards in a lot of bands in high school. I had a Baldwin organ and an Ampeg Gemini II.” We continued talking about organs, the sound of a Farfisa (the popular Italian organ manufacturer) and Baldwin compared to a Hammond B-3, amps, the Leslie tone chamber etc. I talked about the Ampeg and how it was not a bass amp usually used with organs, but had a 15″ speaker and delivered a different sound. After a few minutes of this (and I was by no means an expert on organ playing) I asked how he made a living. “Oh, I play with some bands. Do some recording.” “Any groups I would know?” I asked. He mentioned a few that seemed vaguely familiar but didn’t change tone when he added, “And I was also the keyboard player for THE DOORS”.

It was Ray Manzarek, one of the most famous rock keyboardists in the world. His solo for ‘Light My Fire’ is probably the most famous rock organ riff in history.

I was shocked and embarrassed. I could have dropped to my knees and bowed: ‘I’m not worthy. I’m not worthy’ like the characters in Wayne’s World. Here I’d been blabbing about my amateur tinklings on my folding Baldwin organ with one of the great rock organists! He was such a sweet, humble guy, answering all the fan questions I had about The Doors and we would say a quick ‘Hi’ every time we met in Kathy’s during my run at The Matrix.

Ray Manzarek died yesterday in Germany at the age of 74. An artist who was also a humble, down to earth guy…at least in the very limited time I spent with him. Thinking of you today. And remembering your solo, which I inartfully tried to mimic so many times in High School…Thanks.

Ten years ago this week I was fired at WABC during the first weeks of the Iraq War. For months preceding the invasion I had been presenting real evidence exposing the flim-flam our government was perpetrating concerning Iraq’s danger to the US and its connection to 9/11. During the prior months I watched my fellow anti-war comrades at the station Lynn Samuels and Rev. Byron Schaefer get fired along with others on TV and on radio. A few weeks after my dismissal I wrote this as a letter to the editor or an op-ed…but I never sent it. A good friend in the business, who’s opinion I highly respected, suggested it was not a good time to do so. His words at the time were chilling: ‘Don’t send it if you ever want to work again in this business’ He may have been right, but it is one of the very few things I regret not doing during my broadcast career. I came across it the other day…It’s ten years too late, but interesting as a window on that strangest of times:

TALKING WITH THE ENEMY

Last month I was knocked off the beacon of freedom in a troubled land. I was fired by the talkradio station where I worked. It is a station where a savage conservative voice follows an affable conservative voice which is preceded by a operatic conservative voice proceeded by a genteel conservative voice preceded by a streetwise conservative voice. In talk radio this is known as diversity. It seems to be a successful broadcasting model these days. In morning and late evening drive two dissenting gadflies buzz in dissent. Until last month I was one of them.

The morning anti-war gadfly conveniently disappeared for vacation on the very day the shock and awe bombs began to drop. This should have been enough time to keep him out of harms way but unfortunately, ‘the walk in the park’ became a slightly longer foray. The Iraqi’s did not collapse at ‘the first whiff of gunpowder’ but waited until a second or third sniff, so he was back on the air before the war ended. Though he is a very brave and passionate fellow he was a bit restrained in his commentary when he returned. I understand why.

The un-American police are on patrol.

It is un-American to show ‘Bull Durham’ at the Baseball Hall of Fame. Not because of any message in the movie but because its stars, Susan Saranden and Tim Robbins have been outspoken in opposition to war. It is un-American to point out that bombs kill mothers and children as well as enemy soldiers so Representative Charles Rangel, a decorated Korean War Veteran delivers a speech defending his patriotism and decrying intimidation. It is un-American to use a campaign slogan that reminds voters that regime change in America is their right at the ballot box so candidate John Kerry has to plead to be allowed to criticize the office holder he would like to replace at election time. It is un-American to listen to the Dixie Chicks, to praise Michael Moore‘s wit, to eat in a French restaurant. to drink Evian or Perrier. Even Tavern on the Green is purging its menu of French references (they cannot find an Anglified substitute for ‘filet mignon’ yet). There are so many things that are un-American these days that for a while it seemed that the only safely American past times were flag waving and yellow ribbon tying.

Now that the fever of war is cooling it is time to rediscover two real American traditions: Proud dissent and passionate debate. They should never have disappeared, even during a month of war.

Some dissenting media stars have faded away in the breaking of our new conservative dawn. MSNBC has a memo that warns the station it will be branded unAmerican if Phil Donahue is on the air once war begins. A major media consulting firm warns TV stations that their ratings will fall if they broadcast news of antiwar protests. Peter Arnett does something stupid and is banished from American airwaves while Geraldo Rivera does something even more stupid and remains a conservative star. War coverage on the airwaves that corresponds to the Pentagon playbook is the only ratings getter. The war has sealed what was a trend, the acceptance of monolithic conservative mass media.

Since my firing, colleagues in broadcasting have called me to commiserate. ‘What the heck is going on?’ they ask. But they ask it in a whisper, as if the phone is being tapped or some agent from a new TIPS program is eavesdropping.

Two weeks ago the Dixie Chicks were number one on the Billboard Charts, even after their music was banned on playlists and CD’s were smashed in protest. Toby Keith was number two with his song connecting Saddam Hussein to September 11th. Michael Savage‘s literary dream of a savage nation was number one on the NY Times best seller list but Michael Moore‘s premonition about the dangers of stupid white men was number two. This is still a nation where some people buy books or music for different political reasons and also because they like to read or listen to music. Broadcast mediums have far less diversity in their spectrum.

The media has a power to shape reality and that reality today finds dissonance of political opinion intolerable. Talkradio goes further. There is a bullying confidence in identifying the real Americans from those who are not. It is un-American to use the word ‘invasion’. Broadcasters must use ‘liberation’. Peace marchers are communists filled with hate although I was there along with many others carrying American flags. Democrats are a subversive group, untrustworthy and ready to undermine the benevolent efforts of the protective state though I have been a lifelong registered Democrat. ‘G-d Bless America’ used to be a plea. Today it is an order to the Almighty to fall in line.

Operation Iraqi Freedom is drawing to a close but Operation American Freedom is just beginning. The soldiers in that fight here at home must not whisper or cluster in fear.

Or is it unAmerican to make that comparison?

The trailer for EVOCATEUR: The Morton Downey Jr. Movie has just been released and you can see me briefly here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3MKEqwE76FU I saw this powerful film last year when it premiered at the TRIBECA FILM FESTIVAL. It opens nationwide in theaters this June. And surprisingly they used quite a bit of my interview in it…If you saw Mort and the show I’m sure you never forgot either…The film is worth seeing.

It’s a great story for the Christmas season; the Broadway cop who interrupted his beat to buy shoes and socks for a homeless man barefoot in the winter cold. We expect cops to be tough and inured to the quotidian hardships of life on city streets. Other New Yorkers, as they walked by, laughed and mocked the discomfort of this poor man. These details served to further highlight the patrolman’s charity.

But if you’re a New Yorker you’ve grown cynical to the ways of the city as well. After all, this was a young, inexperienced officer who grew up in the gentler suburbs of Long Island. Give him time to toughen up. And the fact that the photographer had connections to an Arizona police force inspires initial suspicion of some sort of self-interest and manipulation.

If you are a cynical New Yorker you might have initially considered these caveats as I did before buying the story . Or perhaps not.

The short story writer O. Henry was also a con man. He spent time in prison and was haunted by personal demons. Yet he wrote one of the most heart-warming, moving stories about Christmas-giving in the English canon, second only to Dickens. And it took place in hard-scrabble New York City.

I think New Yorkers (and this is almost unique to New Yorkers) have a special capacity to be cynical AND sentimental, streetwise AND compassionate, guarded AND caring. They have a reputation for moving too fast, being self-concerned and rude, yet I have visited many cities around the world and I’ve never seen one where so many citizens offer unsolicited help to bemused strangers with maps. Yes, we have the old story of Kitty Genovese but we also have stories of New Yorkers who leap onto subway tracks to save another, who chase purse snatchers or give all in time of crisis like Hurricane Sandy and after 9/11. We have our share of con artists like Rosie Ruiz and Madoff and Kerik but we also have our share of heroes and those who donate their lives for the well being of others. We have our share of stories like the next two but we also have our share of stories like the two that follow these.

I was sitting in an outdoor café on Columbus Avenue when a bearded, disheveled man walked by my table. “I’m hungry,” he growled at me. “Give me some money for food…” The waiter had just plopped a fat, juicy hamburger on my table magnifying the guilt factor. I don’t like to give out money on the street as you never know whether it will help or hurt the person to whom you’re giving. But I looked up and down at the burger and replied: “Here, take this. We’ll both probably be better off if I give you half” and proceeded to slice off my lunch. I wrapped it in the wax paper on which it rested and placed it in his hands. No thank you. No acknowledgement at all. Then I watched him walk away to the corner and dump it in the garbage pail.

I was driving down 58th street by the Plaza Hotel one night when I saw a frantic young woman lifted her head from the window from the car in front of me. Her face was tear stained and she was a windmill of waving arms trying to flag me down. “Please, please, my name is (so and so), I live in Edison, New Jersey,” she sobbed. “You can call my mother if you like, I’ll give you her number…Someone just stole my purse and I can’t get home. My car is in the lot and they won’t let me take it out unless I pay. Please help me…I’ll send you back the money. I promise….I just don’t know what to do–where I will sleep, where will I go? I have no way to get home…” Her face was wild with anxiety and tears were streaming from her eyes. I offered her a twenty and warned: “This is probably a scam. I know it…but its one I’ve never heard before and on the small chance it is true here’s $20 and a business card. If you’re going to pay me back just call the number and I’ll give you my address.” Instead of a ‘thank you’ she told me that the garage was $29 and she couldn’t get home without that amount…so I threw another twenty on top of what I’d given her. Well…..of course I never got a call but about three months later I was driving in bumper to bumper traffic down W 57th Street with Kyle and there she is leaning into the car in front of me. “Watch this,” I warned Kyle, my blood pressure rising. The tears were flowing, the face anguished as she leaned in and began her spiel. “Get your face out of my car before I punch it,” I shouted. “You’re a great actress. Why don’t you walk a few blocks south and get a job on Broadway!” The tears stopped like turning off a garden hose. She composed herself in a second and moved on to the next car.

On the other hand, one day I was taking the escalator up from the Lincoln Plaza Theater. I was looking down and when I got to the top I saw a pair of shiny Brogues buffed to a sheen so reflective you could see your face in them. Above them was a man with a goatee in a natty three piece woven suit; atop his head a snazzy straw boater. He seemed like a well dressed character out of time, a dandy—polished and neatly buttoned up, as spiffy as they come. With a wide grin he began to address me: “Do you remember last winter when it was freezing cold and a man on the street came to you asking for money? You said you don’t give money on the street but you took him to buy soup and a cup of coffee? Do you remember that?” I did. The poor soul had been shivering in the bitter winter under a wrinkled shirt with no overcoat. “Well, that was me!” he said grinning. “I jest want to thank you for that. You really helped me out when I was cold and hungry and I appreciate it. I been thinking about that awhile and been looking for you. When I saw you coming out of the movies I had to say ‘thank you’.” “My G-d,” I exclaimed. “I can’t believe you. Look at you now! Just look at you! You’re better dressed than I am! What happened?” His smile got even wider: “I found Jesus!” he nodded. “Well, whatever works for you keep it up because it is doing the job!” Our handshake turned into a hug.

Another time I was walking up Columbus when I spotted a young couple heading towards me. As they walked their arms were entwined in the way that told the world they were very much in love. They were not just heading in my direction. They stopped me to say thank you for taking them into a restaurant the winter before when they were desperate. They reminded me that I gave my credit card to the cashier then and told her to ring up $20 and feed them anything they wanted up to that amount. They were desperate then. Now the city had found them shelter and they both were working towards their GED’s. They remembered that night more than I did. I watched them linked together in hope and love, as if they were holding onto each other for life. . It was starting to get cold and the wind was sharpening. Winter would soon be here again.

To paraphrase Beckett life in the big city teaches us: “We can’t believe. But we must believe.”

Yeah, so maybe that homeless guy that got the cops shoes went off to trade them for a bottle of rotgut. Or maybe he walked in those shoes to a place where he could turn his life around. Sometimes in the grand scheme of things a lot of stories don’t ultimately have happy endings. Tiny Tim who cries out ‘G-d bless us everyone’ will probably still die young in the alternative future chosen by Scrooge. Anne Frank’s inspiring narrative ends not at Auschwitz but with her belief that ‘despite it all I still believe people are basically good’.

In the end it’s not what’s in the hearts of others that matters because you can’t control those hearts. What is important is the commitment you have to what is in your own.

Good for you Officer DePrimo. This city will no doubt make you tougher. May it never make you harder of heart.

I will be on SiriusXM Left on December 7,10th and 14th from 7-10AM EST filling in for Alex Bennet. Its Channel 127 and the number to call in is 1 866-99-SIRIUS. Please tune in and listen if you can. Better yet, please call in and share your thoughts regardless of your ideology, agreement or disagreement. I’m looking forward to it. Hope you are too!

How times have changed

Is the Madonna video suitable for the airwaves? Is Howard Stern acceptable for broadcast radio? Unbelievable how quickly times change…(a half decade later THE RICHARD BEY SHOW was a part of the controversy!)