When Joan Rivers appears for an interview and issues a polite request to the hosts - like, what's off-limits on air, for starters - the comedy-circuit trooper means business, dudes!
Just ask those bozos in Sacramento last week who ignored her wishes and stepped over the line!
In the sleepy state Capitol to plug her latest foray into the unconventional realm of zany off-beat comedy in the reality-TV vein, Joan specifically pooh-poohed any notion that her lovely daughter Melissa would be mindless fodder on the airwaves as she ruefully played foil on the local broadcast.
Lights! Camera! Action!
Within seconds, the dim-witted hosts were plying her with a question about you-know-who.
A silly prank?
Not to Joan!
The funny-lady packed up her back of tricks, then walked!
Ouch!
In contrast, I have a fond memory of rubbing shoulders with Rivers.
Several years ago, a casting director hired me to play a bit part on a comedy special that Joan was producing for a cable network:
"A Salute to Heidi Abromowitz"
Yeah, I'm dating myself.
Die-hard fans of the witty legend will recall that in the heyday of her dizzying climb to the top of the topsy-turvy comedy ladder, Heidi was a character Joan often whimsically featured in her stints on stage and spiced up dialogue with on popular talk shows around the country.
In the spot I was hired to act in (which ended up being a few meager seconds on-camera) I was directed to don a Fireman's Uniform and straddle the hood of a spanking-new candy-apple-red Mercedes Benz as it cruised up the street in tony Beverly Hills.
Yup.
The wicked sight gag was a jab at the excesses of wealthy.
Now, Rivers is taking on the rich with a whole new perspective!
How do I know?
Each day as I log onto my blog, I come face-to-face with Joan's mug, at the celebrity website.
The long and short of it?
Her comedy entry (due to premiere this week on August 5th) is one of Zimbio's sponsors.
And, I confess, the eye-catching video clip promoting the show (firmly ensconced above my publicity still & resume) did the trick.
Within seconds, my curiousity was piqued - at which point - I was summarly dragged into Joan's hilarious (at times naughty) brand of humor.
It's easy to figure out in a heartbeat.
"How did you get rich" hinges on the iffy-premise that there are a posse of ultra-rich folks out there - self-made millionaires - with a tale to tell.
Where, Joan, where?
In response to that million-dollar question - Joan's production team heads out each episode impromptu - and sets their lofty sights on the spoils of self-made millionaires - with the hope that down-on-their-luck Americans (who don't have enough moolah to stuff their own tagless mattresses with) will confidently strike out on their own with their novel ideas and potential money-making inventions.
After all, aren't consumers just waiting with bated breath for a truckload of little gadgets to be turned out on E-Bay, with the ultimate aim of lightening the load a tad?
Just betcha, Joan never thought for a lucky-lotto minute that folks around the Nation were actually scarfing up big wins with $5 scratch-offs, hitting elusive jackpots in Vegas, or even inheriting oodles of cash out-of-the-blue from long-lost relatives in Kalamazoo.
"They made their fortunes by inventing Billy Bob Teeth and Butt Paste," she dead-pans to the camera with a straight face.
And, bottom line, she intends to dig deep for the answers, too.
"It's amazing content," quipped producer Mark Burnett (Survivor).
On Rodeo Drive, for instance, Joan spies someone getting out of a Ferrari to have lunch (and without any qualms) strides right up and asks the startled local point-blank how he got rich, according to the giggling reality-show mogul.
She'll knock on a door in an upscale enclave and beg the question:
"How did you get so fu**ing rich?"
Heh, by the way, doesn't Joan look dishy these days?
Has she uncovered the fountain of youth, happened upon a wonder potion, or was it just a bit of tension-specific stretching this way 'n that (yoga, 'ya know?) that blessed the timeless comedy Goddess with that almost-surreal outer-glow?
Inquiring minds want to know, Joan!
Break a pretty gam, eh?
Memorable schtick with the late great Johnny Carson
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