It was the summer of 1994. OJ had just killed his wife and a waiter. I was an intern at CNBC, mostly on Tom Snyder’s talk show. Dick Cavett was another of CNBC’s “Talk All Stars” with a weekly show, usually produced in Fort Lee, NJ. One time, however, they used Snyder’s studio across the street from NBC Burbank in what was called the Catalina building (the lobby of which was used in a pivotal scene in the original “V” miniseries, but that’s neither here nor there). Cavett’s guest was Mel Brooks. The show was to tape on a Saturday. I never worked Saturdays. I worked that Saturday.
I’ve checked YouTube… there are lots of clips of Brooks and Cavett talking, but none from that day. It was atypical. It was supposed to be a one hour interview, but we went well past an hour. After a couple hours, we stopped for a lunch break, and both Brooks and Cavett took the crew across the street to lunch together at the famed NBC Commissary. When lunch was over, we went back to the studio and recorded another few hours of interview. In my mind’s eye, every bit of their conversation was gold. I remember thinking at the time that I’d hate to be the person who had to edit it down to an hour.
When it was over, Mel Brooks continued bantering with all of us on the crew, thanking us for working overtime, hoping they paid us enough. I remarked that as an intern I wasn’t paid, and he invoked his most-Yiddish accent and said “Oy, are you a schmuck.”
And that was that.
Until 1998.
I was working as an NBC Page, escorting talent from the red carpet to their respective dressing rooms and holding areas for that year’s Emmy awards. One of the people I was assigned to escort was Mel Brooks. I approached him and said, “I’m sure you don’t remember but we met a few years ago…” and before I could finish, Brooks said, “Oh, yeah, yeah… that Cavett show. Please tell you’re getting paid today?”
That was nearly three decades ago… Brooks was in his 70s. I can rarely remember the names of my neighbors, and I see them all the time. And I’m not yet 70.
Mel Brooks is 100-years-old today. And although I can’t prove it, I’d like to believe he still remembers me, and nobody can prove otherwise.