Here’s a weird thing; I don’t mention it AT ALL in the journal but, when I joined the WGA, they used to have annual New Member parties, inviting all newbies who had joined during the course of the year. Excitedly (and alone) I went. It was at the Algonquian Hotel, a writer’s Mecca because of the famed Algonquian Round Table of the 1930s. Once there, I fell into the clutches of a certain Willie Suggs, a news writer for ABC who just happened to be the chair of the WGAE Activities Committee. She talked me in to joining. And that’s how that went.
Mid-July, Kevin came to NYC and we met up for lunch. I took a long lunch from work. I passed along some scripts, we talked comedy theory, and debated “Like Magic.”
Also, I was formulating a new script, using some odd ideas I had picked up over time, a dumped secretary, fired. A Private Eye. A place to park all my Pee-Wee Herman P.I. bits.
I didn’t hear from Kevin again until fall had rolled around. He was fried, had no income, but had a couple of prospects with a thing he wrote, or a producer gig. And I clung to my job because the concept of having no income terrified me. Which is kinda my life motto.