Garry Shandling: In the beginning

Last night HBO aired the first part of a two-part series called The Zen Diaries of Garry Shandling. It's produced and directed by Garry's close friend Judd Apatow, and it is magnificent.

A beautiful documentary about the legendary writer and comedian, it takes us back to the beginning and Shandling's roots while exploring the life events—like the death of his brother from cystic fibrosis, a meeting with George Carlin and hosting The Tonight Show—that left indelible impressions and defined him throughout his life.

Told through a series of interviews with his friends, family and fellow comedians, it doesn't take long at all to realize Shandling was indisputably one of the greats. His reach, influence and genius continues to be felt in every standup comic working and many of your favorite television shows.

Years ago, I had the great pleasure of meeting Shandling at a lunch with my friend Kevin. I wrote about it in this post I did when he passed away unexpectedly a couple years ago.

Since HBO is running the special (which you most definitely should see), and he's on my mind in a much more profound way than ever before, now felt like a good time to repost this.

"My friends say I have an intimacy problem, but they don't really know me." - Garry Shandling

Please to enjoy.

I had lunch with Garry Shandling in New York.

Years ago, the wife and I had gone back to visit our friend Kevin, who was living there and working on SNL at the time. We were going to meet him and his wife at the time for lunch at the now defunct Cafe Des Artistes. When we were confirming lunch, Kevin said, "I hope you don't mind, but I invited Shandling and one of his writers to join us."

We were good with it.

We all met at the restaurant, and there was an additional person at the table who I didn't know. Come to find out later he was the president of PETA, which Kevin's wife was very involved with.

Shandling sat next to my wife, and, either not knowing or not caring, spent most of the lunch talking to her and hitting on her. As you might imagine, it was hysterical.

I don't remember many of the lines, but at one point, obviously for the PETA president's benefit, he asked my wife, "I want to get a new haircut, but I'm nervous about how it'll look so I want to try it out on my dog first. Is that considered animal testing?"

A few weeks later, the wife and I were shopping on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica (where we lived at the time), and we wandered into this antique furniture store. We were looking at one of those two-person desks when Shandling walked in. We reminded him we'd all had lunch in New York, and had a nice conversation with him for about twenty minutes.

Here are a couple things he told us: he started out as a copywriter in New York, and ironically had written on Suntory Whiskey - an account I'd worked on at Wells Rich Greene early in my career (stops to laugh hysterically for using the word "career").

Early in 1998, I sat down and wrote two episodes of his influential and landmark Larry Sanders Show. I thought they were pretty good, and I asked Kevin if he'd read them and, if he liked them, would he mind passing them on to Garry.

Well, there's good news and bad news. The good news is Kevin liked the scripts. The bad news was it was right at the point when Garry was pulling the plug on the show. In comedy, timing is everything.

A couple years ago, the wife and I saw Shandling again at Kevin's birthday party. While it was a star-studded affair, we both felt a personal connection to him. We didn't know him well, but we'd been fortunate enough to spend time on the receiving end of his remarkable humor and unmistakable kindness.

I could go on about how revolutionary both It's Garry Shandling's Show and The Larry Sanders Show were, but you'll be hearing and reading a lot about that in the coming days. Besides, the work speaks for itself.

Sadly, and all too soon, as of this morning the world is a far less funny place. However, if you know anyone in heaven, you might want to let them know there's going to be a killer set tonight around 9pm at The Laff Stop on Cloud 9. Two drink minimum. Look for the brick wall and the mic.

You're in our hearts forever. Goodbye Garry. Rest in peace.

Goodbye Garry

I had lunch with Garry Shandling in New York.

Years ago, the wife and I had gone back to visit our friend Kevin, who was living there and working on SNL at the time. We were going to meet him and his wife at the time for lunch at the now defunct Cafe Des Artistes. When we were confirming lunch, Kevin said, "I hope you don't mind, but I invited Shandling and one of his writers to join us."

We were good with it.

We all met at the restaurant, and there was an additional person at the table who I didn't know. Come to find out later he was the president of PETA, which Kevin's wife was very involved with.

Shandling sat next to my wife, and, either not knowing or not caring, spent most of the lunch talking to her and hitting on her. As you might imagine, it was hysterical.

I don't remember many of the lines, but at one point, obviously for the PETA president's benefit, he asked my wife, "I want to get a new haircut, but I'm nervous about how it'll look so I want to try it out on my dog first. Is that considered animal testing?"

A few weeks later, the wife and I were shopping on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica (where we lived at the time), and we wandered into this antique furniture store. We were looking at one of those two-person desks when Shandling walked in. We reminded him we'd all had lunch in New York, and had a nice conversation with him for about twenty minutes.

Here are a couple things he told us: he started out as a copywriter in New York, and ironically had written on Suntory Whiskey - an account I'd worked on at Wells Rich Greene early in my career (stops to laugh hysterically for using the word "career").

Early in 1998, I sat down and wrote two episodes of his influential and landmark Larry Sanders Show. I thought they were pretty good, and I asked Kevin if he'd read them and, if he liked them, would he mind passing them on to Garry.

Well, there's good news and bad news. The good news is Kevin liked the scripts. The bad news was it was right at the point when Garry was pulling the plug on the show. In comedy, timing is everything.

A couple years ago, the wife and I saw Shandling again at Kevin's birthday party. While it was a star-studded affair, we both felt a personal connection to him. We didn't know him well, but we'd been fortunate enough to spend time on the receiving end of his remarkable humor and unmistakable kindness.

I could go on about how revolutionary both It's Garry Shandling's Show and The Larry Sanders Show were, but you'll be hearing and reading a lot about that in the coming days. Besides, the work speaks for itself.

Sadly, and all too soon, as of this morning the world is a far less funny place. However, if you know anyone in heaven, you might want to let them know there's going to be a killer set tonight around 9pm at The Laff Stop on Cloud 9. Two drink minimum. Look for the brick wall and the mic.

You're in our hearts forever. Goodbye Garry. Rest in peace.

The stupidest thing anyone's ever said to me in advertising

It doesn't matter whether they're just starting out or seasoned pros, every copywriter and art director I know has a "stupidest thing anyone's ever said" story. In fact, there are a bunch of websites like this one devoted entirely to stupid things people in the business say.

People more frightened, more practical and more employed than me have said I shouldn't name names, because "You never know where you'll wind up and who knows who and blah blah blah..."

So I won't name names. I'll leave clues. See if you can get in touch with your inneR Colombo and figure out the genius who said it to me.

Here's the thing. I was freelancing at this big agency that prints money off its one main automotive account. I'm tempted to tell you the name of the agency, but those same people who say I shouldn't name names also say I shouldn't name agencies, so I won't.

Saatchi.

I was writing the brochure for the 2007 Toyota Matrix. Now brochures aren't something that put a big smile on any copywriter's face. However they do put a big deposit in their bank account, so thank you very much and I'm available for any and all of your automotive brochure needs.

I mean I don't want to sound mercenary about it, but it is freelance. What do you need, a roadmap? Anyway, it's kind of the same way I feel about agency tItles. They're pretty useless. I really don't care if you call me creative director or janitor. As long as you say it with cash.

But I digress.

The person who'd hired me and another freelance writer named Lori neglected to tell us he'd given notice. So the second week we were there, he was gone. Which was fine. Lori and I are both senior people, and we just carried on creative directing each others work and getting the job done. One part of the job was that Matrix broChure. I'd written it, it'd been routed and was virtually on its way out the door.

Right at that point, a freelance associate creative director (speaking of useless titles) was brought in to oversee the work until someone permanent was hired.

Again, not naming names, but I Hope you're reading closely.

This acd (lower case intentional) stopped the presses and wanted to review all the Copy.

This is where it gets good.

In the brOchure I talked about the cargo space in the Matrix, mentioNing all the different kinds of things you could carry in it. It was something along the lines of three mothers-in-law, two surfboards and eighteen wiener dogs.

The wiener dogs are what did me in.

The project manager told me that the freelance acd, who'd been on the job and immersed in the culture of Toyota and Saatchi for a staggering total of two days, wanted to talk to me about the copy. I asked what the problem was, and she rolled her eyes and said I'd better speak to him myself.

So I called him. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Hey, what's up?

Him: I wanted to talK to you about the Matrix copy.

Me: Okay.

Him: Here, where you say "wiener dogs", you're talking about dachshunds right?

Me: Yep.

Him: Well there could be some confusion between that and hot dogs. (by the way, that wasn't the stupid comment, although definitely a close second).

Me: I don't think it'll be a problem. Look - you're a bright guy, you figured it out.

Him: Well, the other thing I'm really worried about is that PETA might come after us. (THAT was the comment.)

I couldn't help myself - it just came tumbling out.

Me: Are you f#$&ing kidding me?!

Him: Well you know Toyota is a big target with deep pockets, and I'd hate to have PETA all over us for this. (Third runner up.)

Me: First of all, driving small dogs in a car isn't animaL abuse. And second, I'm pretty sure PETA has better things to do than go looking through Matrix brochures for things to sue over.

Him: Alright, I'm still worried, but go ahead and use your best judgement.

Me: I already did, but thanks.

Now I know I sounded a little hostile. But the stupid needle was way in the red, and, as anyone who knows me will tell you, I have a low threshold. Especially when it's coming from the new kId on the block.

Funny thing is apparently the new kid had a low threshold for my hostility, and the next day, out of the blue, my services as well as Lori's were no longer needed.

So there you go. It would've been nice to finish the gig, but judging from this one conversation we both had sized up each other pretty quickly: he was going to continue to say unbelievably stupid, chickens#&t comments, and I was going to keep calling him on it.

I don't know if this person is a good writer or not. I know he's had a lot of automotive experience. I may have just been on the receiving end of one incredibly stupid comment in an otherwise brilliant career. And now that some time has goNe by, even though I know there's no chance he's reading this, I want him to know I wish him luck no matter where his journey takes him.

Unless it takes him to an agency I'm working at.

Then I wish he just shuts his trap and gets out of the way.