Johnnie Cochran

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“I’m not going. I’m eating my ribs”

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Sharon Dunn
“I’m not going. I’m eating my ribs”
Johnnie Cochran agrees to interview, but only after being promised favourite lunch:
Advocate, celebrity talks law and the NFL over lunch

[Photo: Glenn Lowson, National Post]
Johnnie Cochran chows down on a plate of ribs at CTV’s Toronto offices yesterday. He agreed to give an interview to National Post columnist Sharon Dunn if he was furnished with the meal. “These are very good,” he observed.[TORONTO, ON]
The way to a man’s heart is still through his stomach.Best known for his defence of O.J. Simpson, Johnnie Cochran — who has also represented such high profile names as Michael Jackson, Puff Daddy and Aretha Franklin — has taken on groundbreaking cases in race relations. I met Mr. Cochran for lunch yesterday in the Green Room of CTV’s The Mike Bullard Show where he was taping a segment for TSN’s Off The Record.Lunch was difficult to arrange because of the famous lawyer’s extremely tight schedule, until I mentioned to his public relations people that I would deliver the best ribs in town (ribs are Mr. Cochran’s favourite food) if he would have lunch with me.Mr. Cochran agreed to the deal, and although lunch was slated for 12:30 p.m., he didn’t show until 1:30. “Sorry about that,” he said, “I was spending some time with Geronimo Pratt [now Geronimo Jijaga], one of my favourite clients who defines me better than anyone.”Mr. Pratt was a member of the Black Panther Party and was convicted of the 1970 murder of a young teacher. “Pratt was locked up for 27 years,” said Mr. Cochran. “It took three decades to prove that he was innocent.”Sitting down to his feast — smoked back ribs — Mr. Cochran said: “This is awfully sweet.”Staff from Dipamo’s Barbeque have personally delivered the food, wanting to meet Mr. Cochran. “I love the guy,” whispers Chris Fisher, Dipamo’s manager. “Some people get offended when I say that, because of O.J. Simpson, but here’s a guy who legally, with confidence and determination, handled the law over a period of time to find a man not guilty.”After a quick taste of his ribs, Mr. Cochran declares them “delicious.”

[Photo: Glenn Lowson, National Post]
U.S. defence attorney Johnnie Cochran, best known for defending O.J. Simpson, enjoys takeout ribs, the condition he set in granting the Post’s Sharon Dunn an interview. He said in Toronto yesterday he has joined the fight to liberate Bill Sampson, sentenced to death in Saudi Arabia.
“These are very good, someone knew what they were doing,” he says between mouthfuls. Mr. Cochran speaks with extreme speed.”How do you do that,” I ask, “– eat and talk?””It’s good, and I’m hungry,” he replies, telling me to go ahead with my questions.”There are those who find it ironic that you’re involved with the Association in Defence of the Wrongly Accused,” I say, “and yet, you had O.J. Simpson, a man guilty in the eyes of many, acquitted.””Everyone’s entitled to his own opinion,” says Mr. Cochran, “but the jury found him not guilty. This is the way the justice system works, and I hope that people believe in that system.”I rephrase the question: “Would you represent a guilty man?””Only from the standpoint that he would plead guilty,” he says. “O.J. proclaimed his innocence to us throughout.” Mr. Cochran says his assessment of O.J. is based not only on O.J.’s plea of innocence, but on the evidence itself. “Remember, the jury was sequestered for a full year,” he adds.One of Mr. Cochran’s aides interjects: “We have to go.””I’m not going, I’m eating my ribs,” Mr. Cochran says kindly, but stubbornly. His handlers don’t have a chance: Mr. Cochran is not going anywhere.Instead, he launches into a passionate defence of the wrongly accused.”There are many individuals who have been freed and are off death row, due to DNA. It’s so important in Canada and the U.S. for us to stick together because there is injustice everywhere.”Besides getting involved in the Bill Sampson case, he tells me that he’s working on a big case over the next year. “It’s a toxic tort case involving a company … that makes all kinds of products, even turf in football fields,” he tells me. “Just about everyone in this town, Anniston, Alabama, is sick,” says Mr. Cochran. “I’m representing 14,000 people, most of whom are dying from cancer, caused by PCBs in the air and water.”Mr. Cochran is also passionate when he talks about the NFL and the lack of black coaches, another case he has adopted. “Seventy per cent of the NFL is made up of black players,” says Mr. Cochran, “but of 500 coaches, there have only been six black coaches.””We really have to go,” says an irate publicity person.”I want to finish my ribs,” Mr. Cochran says as he continues to eat.”Sharon, could you just carry them, and come along,” said the aide. She’s not kidding — I can see there is no way to separate Mr. Cochran from those ribs.”I’ll take them to your car,” I tell him.

by Sharon Dunn

Robbery

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Hitting close to home

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Sharon Dunn
Hitting close to home
A rash of robberies, including my house, has citizens on alert

[Photo: Yvonne Berg, National Post]
Constable Joanna Theriault once watched a thief try to break into her own house while she was on plainclothes duty.

My home was broken into recently while I was out of town. It happened around 6 a.m., according to my early-to-rise neighbour, who was out for a morning jog. He saw a red compact pull up to my house and a young man get out. They greeted each other, and my neighbour went on his way. A few minutes later, the police were swarming my place, after the alarm did what it was supposed to do. “He was a friendly robber,” said my neighbour, consolingly. The area where I live — Bayview and York Mills — is being taken over by burglars. One woman on my street told me robbers broke in to her house, ignored the alarm, ran to her bedroom closet, stole her jewellery and were gone by the time the police arrived. Really? magine keeping your jewellery in the bedroom. I thought everyone kept their baubles in the fridge, which shows what a lousy crook I’d make.

“Break and enters are becoming quite common,” says Constable Joanna Theriault, a crime prevention officer at 33 Division. “We’re very concerned about the increase in these occurrences. The robbers aren’t harming people, just looting, and most of the break-ins are surprisingly, during daytime.
“I’m spooked”, I tell her. I sleep with my hammer in one hand and my cellphone in the other. Of course, as Theriault points out, “If you have the latest security system, a message goes straight to the police if your phone line is cut.” She says it’s not just my neighbourhood either. It’s happening everywhere, though the northern reaches of Toronto, but south of Hwy. 401, seems to be particularly vulnerable.

And no one seems immune.”Once, when I was working plainclothes, we were following a suspect. We watched from the car as he made his way suspiciously through a neighbourhood. He ended up walking to the street that I live on. I watched as he went through the backyards and ended up at my house. He tried to break in. I couldn’t believe it. “Fortunately, he wasn’t able to break in because Theriault had her windows nailed shut (don’t ask, she’s a police officer, remember)

Officers I’ve spoken with have all sorts of tales to tell. Recently, for example, some hoods tried to break into a local convenience store. They took great pains to throw large garbage cans through the upper part of a plate-glass window, then gingerly hoisted themselves up and dove through the broken glass. The store was open, and by the time they landed inside, the clerk had long since called the police and they were immediately apprehended. Others are wilier. Police showed up at one house, confident they were in time to nab a repeat offender. Since they considered him a pro they called in the big guns — the swat team. The officers went through the house, guns in hand, but it appeared the robber had alluded them. I was told the officer in charge of the investigation sat down in the kitchen, discouraged, head in hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a suitcase in the hallway move. Upon further investigation, he found the culprit, a modern-day Houdini hidden inside. The officer sent home for his videocamera and asked the crook if he would mind getting in and out of the suitcase a few times so he could record it. “Otherwise no one at the station will believe me,” he said. The crook was more than happy to oblige.

In another case, a burglar was found hiding behind drywall, and was equally proud of his ingenuity. Constable Theriault says that if you want to give your friendly neighbourhood robbers a run for your money there are a few things you can do.
First, be suspicious of anyone carrying anything of value from a neighbour’s home.
“But surely that’s obvious”, I say.
“You’d be surprised,” she tells me, “People don’t report.” Also, she says, “be on the lookout for anyone looking into neighbour’s windows, people climbing over fences or strangers driving slowly through a neighbourhood following an aimless or repetitive course.
“Second, don’t answer the door. Be especially suspicious of anyone who comes to your door saying they’re looking for a friend who supposedly lives there, which is a common ruse. If a stranger knocks, yell through the door that you’re home but can’t come to the door.” The bad guys might be knocking just to see if the house is empty,” she says.
Third, check out people who are loitering or seem out of place. Remember, culprits aren’t just youngsters. Remember, too, that burglars are creatures of habit and sometimes go back to a house they’ve robbed and break the same back window. “The bottom line is people are seeing things and they’re not calling us,” she says. “Call us if you see anything suspicious.” If you hear someone break into your home and you can’t get out safely, hide in a closet. If you’re fortunate enough to have your cellphone, call 911. Remember that your home phone line might get cut. And whatever you do, “Don’t be a hero. Do not confront.”
“No fear of that,” I assure her.

So the crooks don’t want to hurt us, but what about the family I heard about whose recent break-in netted the bad guys about $200,000 worth of merchandise. They took just about everything — cash, jewellery, credit cards, televisions, VCRs, computers, car keys and the car itself.” And they’re carrying the stuff out the door in broad daylight,” according to Theriault. A case in point, she says, is the witness who told the police he saw a man carrying a TV set. “I did think it was a little suspicious,” he said later. But he did nothing. I remember a similar case, years ago, when I worked at the CBC studios on Jarvis Street. A group of men came in and carried away the grand piano in Studio 7. No one questioned them. “They looked like they knew what they were doing,” said one witness.

The policewoman has one more piece of advice. “If all else fails, get a dog. Dogs are unpredictable, even small dogs,” and thieves go to lengths to avoid them. “I’ve never attended a B&E when there was a dog in the house.” The officer ends by saying, “People find it devastating after they’ve been broken into, especially older people, who can’t sleep after a B&E.”

So here I am back in bed with my hammer, my cellphone and Fido, er, Fido, where are you?

by Sharon Dunn

Patrick Watson

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 “Couldn’t you make the CBC disappear?”

 From the

Sharon Dunn
‘Couldn’t you make the CBC disappear?’
Patrick Watson discusses magic and public broadcasting

[Photo: Sharon Dunn, National Post]
Ace up his sleeve? Patrick Watson

I don’t like magic tricks; they scare me and always have. And now I find out that Patrick Watson, writer, broadcaster and former chairman of the CBC, is not what he seems. He’s a magician. I note that he looks much healthier in person, with an almost ruddy complexion. A trick, I presume. Amazingly, I have never before met the dear Watson, who is co-writer and director of the The Conjuror, starring David Ben, a magic show now playing at Isabel Bader Theatre in Toronto. Watson, and who has been performing magic since he was a lad, says as he produces a deck of cards, “My mother made me a suit of tails when I was 12,” which means he’s been into magic for some 60 years. “When I was head of CBC,” he tells me, “I picked up Allan Slaight’s book, Stewart James in Print, and never got out of bed. Slaight’s the one who got me interested in card tricks.” In case you don’t know, the late Stewart James, from western Ontario, is a magician who left a legacy of thousands of original magic tricks performed worldwide, from card tricks to elaborate illusions. And Allan Slaight is famous as head of Standard Broadcasting (now Standard Radio). Slaight was in the news himself recently, in a list of the 10 richest people in Canada, a magic trick unto itself. “We had been getting together for magic lunches,” says Watson, adding that, buoyed by their combined talents, he and Slaight decided to take their magic act on the road — well, sort of. They performed at Smile Company, a charitable theatre.”That night, after the performance,” says Watson, “my wife, Caroline, woke me and said, ‘If you ever do anything like that again, I’ll divorce you.’ “
“Were you that bad?” I ask.”I was terrible,” says Watson, “and Slaight wasn’t any better.”

Watson, who was chairman of CBC from 1989 to 1994, tells me, “I wanted to close down the CBC and start fresh.” His challenge was, “how can we use this medium to make this country better?” But, he adds, “it was disheartening to discover that a number of powerful members of CBC senior management were not the least bit interested in public broadcasting, or their mandate; they were only interested in defending their territory.” I can see that Watson is still upset about this. “And they almost fooled me,” he says. “When I came in as chairman, it was, ‘thank god you’re here.’ ” He guffaws. “They nearly had me.”

Since he left that post, Watson points out, “I haven’t been able to get a job at CBC.” He tells me that being chairman of the CBC was the worst job he’s ever had. Ironically, the best job he’s ever had, he says, was as a producer at CBC. “If you’re such a good magician, why couldn’t you make the CBC disappear?” I ask. He laughs, and when he catches his breath says, “hell, making it disappear would be easy. The big trick would be turning it into a public broadcaster.” Ouch.Speaking of the corporation, I saw CBC’s Rex Murphy commiserating in a corner of the restaurant with Preston Manning. Having never met Manning, I was dying to go over to say hello and maybe set up an interview with the founder and former head of the Reform Party, but I didn’t want to offend Watson.” By all means, go ahead,” says Watson. Unfortunately, Rex tells me Preston has left. I notice when Rex gets up to go, he doesn’t acknowledge Watson, unless I missed something, which is possible, but not likely.

I should mention that magic man Watson also has a new book on the shelves, The Canadians — Biographies of a Nation, Volume III, based on a television program on History Television, and comprising profiles on great Canadians in history. This volume includes racehorse Northern Dancer and Watson’s personal favourite, Marion de Chastelain, one of Canada’s most important spies. Eat your heart out, James Bond.

Now of course I’m going to force Watson to prove that he’s a magician. I inspect his deck of cards, and it seems to be legit. After doing the whole magic trick routine, he astounds me by eventually pulling out the card I chose, Ace of Diamonds. Watson tells me candidly that sometimes he has the queen of hearts up his sleeve, because that’s the card chosen most often. He says that only twice in 10 years did he get the wrong card. Watson insists he made it up (the trick that is), but it looks an awful lot like a card trick Slaight once showed me. But then again, you’ve seen one card trick …

As I prepare to pay the bill, I notice that my Gold Visa card is missing. It crosses my mind that my friendly magician lunch guest might have used his sleight of hand to take it (as a joke, of course), but unfortunately, this is not the case. A quick call to Visa confirms the worst. It seems that in the span of time it took me to walk from my car to the restaurant to meet my dear Watson, another erstwhile magic man or woman has reached into my shoulder bag and lifted my card. Since I met Watson at 1 p.m., and Visa tells me the first purchase (for $1,000 at a downtown ladies’ shop) was made at 1:10, the trickster didn’t waste any time. The second and last purchase was at a men’s shop at 1:20 for $850. Although Visa assures me that I’m not on the hook for the 10-minute, $1,850 shopping spree, it does makes my head spin. I didn’t see that card trick coming either, so obviously, I’m a magician’s delight. Talk about conjurors.

by Sharon Dunn

Garden of Vegan

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“Vegans, mom. You’re thinking pagans”

 From the

Sharon Dunn
‘Vegans, mom. You’re thinking pagans’
Who knew lunch with vegans would be so lively?

[Photo: Sharon Dunn, National Post]
Sarah and Tanya with Post photographer (and vegetarian) Carlo Allegri.

“Mom, it’s not a religion,” I say when my mother asks about the vegans I’m interviewing.
“Yes it is, dear,” she insists.
“You’re thinking pagans,” I tell her.
“Well, then, what nationality are they?” she wants to know.

Alas, one of the many burdens of a vegan. Who are they anyway? In a nutshell, a vegan is a person who eats only animal-free food — that is, vegetarian (no meat or fish) plus no milk, eggs, cheese, etc. I can’t say that I’m overly enthused about meeting the authors of The Garden of Vegan, a book of vegan recipes collected from all over the world. I’m fretting about what I’ll order for lunch at Juice For Life (they chose the restaurant, not me). When I walk into the diner, I’m encouraged by the desserts on display — chocolate cake, frosted carrot cake and date squares. (Maybe this lunch isn’t going to be so bad after all.)

The friendly pierced and tattooed authors, Tanya Barnard and Sarah Kramer, look healthy, I think, considering they’ve been vegan for years. What do they eat anyway? And then our mighty healthy National Post photographer Carlo Allegri, who’s here for the shoot, astounds me by announcing that he’s vegetarian himself.
“I put in for this assignment days ago,” he tells me enthusiastically. Wonders never cease. Great enthusiasm abounds at the restaurant. The authors (whose first book is called ‘How it All Vegan’, are obvious celebs in these parts. But there is a tense moment when our vegan server takes one look at Carlo, and they both start to blush. Carlo spills the beans when the girl walks away, explaining that when he first met her at a party a few months ago, in his words, “I said hello, and then I broke wind.”
“Were you vegetarian at the time?” I ask. As it turns out, he was. Now we’re getting somewhere. As politely as possible, I ask the girls if “wind” is a troublesome side effect of a vegan diet. They admit that it is. “Sure, you eat a lot of beans,” says Sarah, “but it helps if you chew on digestive enzymes.” Option two, says Sarah, “is that you can always leave the room,” or option three, “you can just embrace them [the toots].” Yes, this is going to be an interesting lunch after all.
[Photo: Carlo Allegri, National Post]
Tanya Barnard, left, and Sarah Kramer are authors of …

…the cookbook, The Garden of Vegan.

Sarah, who grew up in Saskatchewan, says that because of her hippie mom, hers was the only family in Regina with children growing up on “lentil leaves and carrot sticks.” Although she did have milk as a child, she said that going from vegetarian to vegan was a natural progression.

The Juice For Life vegan menu includes rice bowls, stews and noodles. Having trouble deciding, I ask the waitress to bring me a smorgasbord.

Both Tanya and Sarah say they are vegan for emotional reasons. “We don’t want to eat anything that is killed for food,” says Tanya.”What about the poor plant that you’re rending apart?” I ask, adding, “There’s evidence that plants have feelings too.”
“That’s bullsh–,” says Sarah quickly.
“Then why not milk?” I ask them. (Both women believe in breast-feeding.) “It won’t kill the cow.”
“Yes, but the cow didn’t give his consent,” says Sarah.

We talk about the stigma of going vegan. Carlo complains, “My Italian father is still mad at me — he thinks it’s against God’s law to be a vegetarian.”
Tanya, who was raised a meat-eater, admits that going vegan is still an issue with her family. “At Christmas,” she says, “my mother will want me to have the traditional turkey, potatoes and overcooked vegetables.”

I ask the authors to put together an imaginary Christmas vegan dinner. “Tofu turkey,” Tanya suggests, “done in the shape of a turkey.” It is possible, they insist, but you can also try a turkey mould, if you have trouble. “But leave a space for the stuffing,” says Tanya, suggesting a cranberry and brown rice dressing, to be baked with the tofu turkey.
“In the stuffing, don’t forget the seasonings,” offers Sarah, “rosemary, onions, yams and poultry seasoning [for a real Yuletide flavour].” For dessert, the authors suggest pumpkin pie with tofu whipped cream.They tell me (not surprisingly) that the hardest place to get a vegan meal is in the air.

“Flying here our [airline] meal [scrambled tofu] had hardly any spice, and we got a stewed tomato and a cold hard bun,” Sarah complains.
“Why should you be different from anyone else?” I say. “But the regular meal looked good,” they tell me. I remind them that looks can be deceiving.

An eating philosophy even more restrictive than vegan, I’m told, is Jainism. Adherents of Jainism, the oldest religion in India, are vegetarian and believe in “live and let live.”
“With that, you can only eat an apple if it has fallen off the tree, and you can eat the top part of the carrot because that doesn’t hurt it. But you can’t dig up potatoes — they’re hiding on you — they have their rights as well,” Sarah says.

The women’s vegan lifestyle is more manageable, says Sarah, “because we’re from the West Coast [Victoria]. This is more common out there, we’re more relaxed.” I ask if there are vegan comfort foods. “Mashed potatoes with spicy flaxseed oil,” says Sarah. “Veggie stews with miso [fermented soybean paste] gravy, for me,” says Tanya.

Our lunch arrives. I’m having what the menu describes as the Warrior (a curried brown-rice concoction with bok choy.) It’s delicious. I’m also having the best veggie spring rolls I’ve tasted, and sushi. “Is there any raw fish in these?” I yell to the waitress. A hush falls on the diners.
“No fish in here,” she reminds me in quiet tones.
“Sorry,” I apologize. As Sarah’s visions of tofu turkey dance in my head, I ask the waitress to point out the tofu in my meal, so I can have a taste. She hasn’t served me any — must be a strategy, I surmise. But at my request she returns with cold tofu cubes. They taste like cardboard, and the authors agree that it’s not the way they would serve tofu to a rookie like myself.
“Tofu is like flour, you don’t just sit down and eat flour,” Sarah says. “It’s got to be prepared properly, it’s all in what you add to it.”The kitchen tries again, this time coming up with strips of fried tofu that look just like barbecued beef. The women watch, in hopeful expectation, as I take a taste. And I try, Lord knows, I try, but it still tastes bland to me. “Maybe it’s an acquired taste?” I offer.
“The tofu should be cut up and put in a stew,” Sarah recommends. I decide that I love everything vegan that I’ve tasted except the tofu. I especially enjoyed the sugar-, milk- and egg-free chocolate cake made with spelt flour, and let’s not forget the carrot cake. I could go vegan, I’m thinking, at least until Christmas Day, when, hopeless cannibal that I am, I’ll once again ruthlessly sacrifice a turkey.

by Sharon Dunn edited Thurs. Jan 30/25

Gordon Farr

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How John Bassett launched the Love Boat

 From the

Sharon Dunn
How John Bassett launched the Love Boat
The series might never have sailed if Gordon Farr hadn’t been fired

[Photo: Sharon Dunn, National Post]
Gordon Farr worked on The Bob Newhart Show and Three’s Company, among others.

I mentioned in a recent column, romantic that I am, I used to enjoy the TV show The Love Boat. It turns out the creator of The Love Boat, one Gordon Farr, is a Toronto native who has been living in the city the past few years. Farr not only created and produced the first three years of The Love Boat with his wife, Lynne, but he wrote and produced The Bob Newhart Show, Bridget Loves Bernie, Maude, Three’s Company and The Jeffersons. “I give the credit to old John Bassett [now deceased],” says Farr when I meet him for lunch. “I was producing, directing, writing and booking an early show at CFTO, long before Canada AM. Peter Jennings was doing the news and Tim Ryan, sports. I was making $150 a week. It was around 1964, ’65. A group of us were discussing that maybe we should have a Directors Guild of Canada, and we signed our names to a list in support of it.”Well, the list made its way up to John Bassett, who roared, ‘I’m not having any big unions in here.’ ” Bassett told his staff to fire the last two names on the list. “My name was the last on the list and that was that. “He scared the sh– out of me,” Farr says of Bassett, “but I admired him. He was a big, handsome, take-control kind of guy, and because of that, I all of a sudden found myself out of work.

A friend of mine said, ‘God, I hate it here. Let’s go to L.A.,’ and next thing I knew I was on a plane and I got a job in Hollywood writing questions on a game show making US$250 a week. Dissolve to Love Boat,” says Farr. “It’s a smash, we’re a smash. It’s June 6th, the anniversary of my coming to L.A., and my wife, Lynne, says, ‘We should thank John Bassett, because if he didn’t fire you, you wouldn’t be here [in his Hawaiian beach house, paid for with the money he made from The Love Boat].’
“I had so much money I didn’t know what to do with it,” says Farr. “So I sent John Bassett two dozen roses, and continued to do it every June 6th for a number of years.” Farr heard through the grapevine that every year when Bassett got the roses, he would yell, “Who the hell is Gordon Farr?”

Farr had to sue Aaron Spelling over the rights to The Love Boat. “It was my show, I had been flogging it everywhere, but Aaron Spelling got the idea from someone at Columbia I had pitched it to. I had pitched it everywhere — all the networks were witnesses. ABC was scheduled to carry it, so our lawyers wanted to depose Fred Silverman, head of ABC. Apparently, Silverman went to Spelling and said, ‘Take care of this’. Farr tells me a settlement was reached, and he and his wife went to air as the show’s producers with Spelling as executive producer. “Aaron was the best producer I’ve ever worked with,” says Farr. “He had a huge knowledge of film, was a cosmic salesman and was wonderful with people.” Farr estimates that Spelling personally grossed about US$1-billion from The Love Boat. The show itself grossed more than US$2-billion. How much did Farr make? “A lot,” he says.

REMEMBER THEM?
THE LOVE BOAT “CREW”: (front row) Lauren Tewes (Julie), Gavin MacLeod (Captain Stubing), Jill Whelan (Vicki); (back row) Fred Grandy (Gopher), Ted Lange (Isaac) and Bernie Kopell (Doc).

The show is syndicated in about 44 countries. “I received a cheque from Qatar two weeks ago,” he tells me, “for three cents.”

These days, Farr guest lectures at Humber College in the comedy writing program. “I always point out that it’s called show business for a reason,” he says. “It’s a business, and all decisions should be business decisions. That’s the way it was with The Love Boat. We had cards on the board every week with our three categories — drama, comedy, romance. It was a formula that worked, and we never deviated from it.” Farr says scripts have come a long way since the early days of television. “Back then, a Jew and a Catholic couldn’t get married without a backlash,” he says. “When I was producing Bridget Loves Bernie [Bridget was Catholic and Bernie was Jewish] and the actors Meredith Baxter and David Birney were having a big love affair, we were all getting death threats. It was such a serious situation that even though the show was in the top ten it was cancelled. It was a sign of the times.”

Farr remembers another incident when he was doing a Petula Clark special. “During the show, guest Harry Belafonte put his arm around Petula. The guy from Chrysler, the sponsor, started screaming. Steve Binder, the director, jumped up, grabbed the tape and locked it in the truck of his car. This was in the early ’70s. A week later the story was on the cover of Time, the shot stayed in the show, the rep from Chrysler was fired and Chrysler apologized. I always liked Steve Binder.” The talk switches to today’s sitcoms. “With Frasier,” says Farr, “I think the ratings must have gone down when Niles married Daphne. It’s not what the public would want — they want unrequited love.” But, he adds, “the writers are so brilliant they’ll find a way.” Of Will & Grace, he says, “I think they committed hari kari by letting Grace get married. If you make a major change in a series, the audience gets upset. They want to know what’s coming, they want the chemistry to continue.” Though if writers make a mistake, they have plenty of options, he notes.

On The Bob Newhart Show, for example, he tells me, “Bob was telling everyone that he wasn’t coming back after the season, so for the last show we wrote an episode where his wife [Suzanne Pleshette] was pregnant, even though Bob had always insisted there would be no kids on the show.”The day before we shot the show, we got a call from Bob saying, ‘Nice script, but who are you going to get to play Bob?’ It turns out that he wasn’t quitting, he was just threatening to as a negotiating ploy. We had only a few hours to come up with a new end-of-the-season episode. So we went with a dream sequence.” One more thing,” says Farr. “We had a gay character on The Bob Newhart Show and we were getting threatening letters because of it. I remember one threat I received that warned me I was going to burn in Hell. It was signed, ‘Yours in warmest Christian love.’ “

by Sharon Dunn

Gino Empry

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“I’ve never told anyone this …”

 From the

Sharon Dunn
‘I’ve never told anyone this …’
Gino Empry gives the lowdown on the stars – and himself

[Photo: Kevin Van Paassen, National Post]
Toronto PR impresario Gino Empry says, “I’m actually very shy. And I’m tired of people saying I’m flamboyant, I’m this, I’m that.” ‘Sharon, you’ve got to help me,” Gino Empry tells me. “Everyone’s writing that I’m ugly, I wear a wig and I’m a homosexual. You’ve got to straighten them out.”Now, I should point out that I barely know Gino Empry, though many years ago when I first moved to Toronto as a CBC news anchor I was advised to give the great PR man a call to see if he would represent me.”Only if you quit CBC,” he told me. That I wasn’t prepared to do, so he hung up.”Was I rude?” he asks me, wide-eyed, when I remind him of our first conversation.”Yes, you were,” I say.Like many journalists in town, I was talking to Empry on the occasion of the publication of his memoir. It is titled I Belong to the Stars and it is a collection of anecdotes involving celebs from Pierre Trudeau to Jack Lemmon to Playmates to hookers.Having skimmed the colourful book, I say to Empry, “I’m upset that you showed Xaviera Hollander in such a good light.””I never had anything to do with her sexually,” he says. “I told her, ‘I don’t know where your mouth has been.’ “Actually, he does. In his book, Empry quotes Hollander as saying she once “did” an entire Argentine football team — in an hour.”She’s like the Earth Mother,” Empry says in her defence (as I roll my eyes). “Anyway, what harm did she ever do anyone? She never said a bad word about anybody. Read her book, it’s beautiful. It’s called Child No More. She was a good little girl. She spent her young years in a concentration camp in Indonesia.”OK, but why did he portray Frank Sinatra as a nice gentle guy in the book?”No doubt, the stories you hear about him are true,” says Empry, “but I didn’t see them. Everyone has two sides to them, and no one talks about the nice side of Sinatra, the only side I saw. And I think his kids should be slapped silly. They treated him like a bank account, except maybe Nancy.”Empry has better things to say about Sinatra’s wife, Barbara, but soon returns to the kids: “It was too bad for him that his stupid kids and his stupid wife couldn’t get along. He suffered because of it.”When Empry relates an anecdote about the death of the mother of his good friend Tony Bennett, he starts crying. “Sinatra was broadcasting live, on radio, from Madison Square Garden, and he told the audience about Tony’s mother, Anna, who was sick, and dedicated his songs to her while she lay dying, with Tony by her bedside. They had the radio playing and Anna was listening. Sinatra was saying over the radio, ‘Hang on, Mama, hang on Anna.’ “Empry wipes away a tear, “You tell me that guy doesn’t have a good side. Growing up in a gangster world like Sinatra did, some of that stays with you.” (I realize I’m wiping away a tear, too, and I’m not even Italian.)Since Empry has met all the stars, I try to get the lowdown. Who’s the most beautiful?”It has to be Lena Horne,” says Empry. “And I adored Deborah Kerr.”And the biggest jerk?”Robert Reed, the father from The Brady Bunch. I was doing PR for him at the Royal Alex. He was dismissive with me.”But one day, Empry continues, “I went into a washroom and he was in there going down on a guy, a stagehand. I said, ‘Excuse me,’ and left. After that, Reed was at least civil and would say hello when he saw me.”Empry also remembers the Smothers Brothers behaving badly. “They were arguing and they took it out on me,” he says. “Tommy apologized, saying, ‘It’s Mom’s fault. She always liked Dick better.’ I always liked Tommy better.”Actress Elaine Stritch was very difficult, too, he recalls. “She would only do publicity if I brought her two bottles of vodka,” he says.”Sal Mineo was my good friend,” says Empry. “I remember once he took me on a tour of the gay bars. I got all dressed up because I wanted to look good when people came on to me and I had to tell them no. But no one paid any attention to me, not once. I could have walked by naked and they wouldn’t have noticed me. It was embarrassing.”Any regrets?”A big one,” he says. “Anne Murray. She was playing at the Imperial Room and she called me from her hotel and complained, ‘I don’t know what to do, I have cheques lying all over the room (the royalties for Snowbird were starting to come in). I sent her to an accountant. I was a fool. I could have been her manager and I sent her to an accountant,” he moans.Empry also missed out on Kenny Rogers. “He was leaving The Fifth Dimension.” He pauses. “No, not them.””The First Edition,” I offer.”Yeah, that’s it. He was going solo and I thought, he’ll never make it solo, so I passed on him.”But Empry is pleased to have had Tony Bennett as a client for 12 years, from 1976 to 1988.Empry sums up his career and his influence on his clients by quoting Ed Mirvish, whom he represented for 27 years. As the story goes, Mirvish was looking at a quote attributed to him in a newspaper. He called Empry and said, “Gino, what did I mean when you said that?”Since Empry has never been married, I ask about his love life. He mentions his long-time girlfriend, Nikki. “She’s mad at me because I didn’t talk about her in the book,” he tells me.”I’m on her side,” I say. “If it were me, I’d have your head on a platter.””Sharon, would you tell Nikki that I’d have to write a whole book about her, that that’s what it would take?””I’ll tell her but you’d better start writing,” I counsel him.Then I press him some more on his love life before Nikki.”The first one was Jean,” he says, adding that he can’t remember any of their last names. “Two things her family hated the most — Roman Catholics and Italians. The second one was also Jean, she was five feet tall, her mother was five by five. That scared me. I couldn’t see myself married to a five by five woman. And she did become five by five.”His next great love, he says, was Georgia. “I lived with her, and we had two children.”That Empry is a father is news to me. “We gave them up for adoption when they were infants, to friends of ours, two separate families,” he says. “We never saw either of them.”But why would he and Gloria give up their children?”I’m not sure. We weren’t married, and that’s what it was like then,” says Empry.I can see the sadness in his eyes, and press him further about why they didn’t get married.”I’ve never told anyone this,” Empry finally says. It’s clear I’ve hit a nerve. “And I’m not sure why I’m revealing it now. Anyway, two years after our second child was born, I took Georgia home to Mom. I was finally ready to settle down with her.”I urge him to continue.”Shortly after that,” says Empry, “there was a knock on our door one day. Georgia was out, and the man standing at the door asked for her. When I told him she was out, he said, ‘Tell her to come home. Her husband and her kids need her.’ “Empry is silent for a moment, then picks up the story. “I was shocked. Since that day, I’ve had a complete blank about Georgia. I shut down after that.”I suggest to him that perhaps he has told me this story so people will understand what he’s really like. He nods. “I’m actually very shy. And I’m tired of people saying I’m flamboyant, I’m this, I’m that. They don’t know the real me.”A few hours after the interview, I gave Empry a call. “Are you sure you want me to write about everything you told me? Even about the children?””Go ahead,” he said. “I trust you.”So there it is. It seems clear that Empry, in publishing this book and opening up to me, truly does want people to see beyond the flamboyance, the jokes and the rumours.

by Sharon Dunn

Evelyn Doyle

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The real Evelyn

 From the

Sharon Dunn
The real Evelyn
In 1987 Desmond Doyle’s daughter gave the BBC a synopsis of his life.
This year, the movie is reality.

[Photo: United Artists]
Pierce Brosnan plays an unemployed man who fights for custody of his daughter, played by Sophie Vavasseur. How long does it take to put your life on the silver screen? For Evelyn Doyle, the answer is about 15 years.It was in 1987 that she presented the British Broadcasting Corporation’s Paul Bender with a 30-page synopsis of her father’s life, which involved a dramatic struggle with the Irish government after his children were taken away because he was an unemployed man whose wife had left him.Bender produced a script from that synopsis, but it languished without a producer for many years. In that time, Doyle wrote a best-selling account of her family’s ordeal, but gave up hope on the screenplay. So when Pierce Brosnan called to tell her he was interested in the project, she thought it was a joke.”I thought it was one of my friends pulling my leg. I said to him, ‘Bugger off, I’m watching Star Trek,’ ” she recalls. “Once I realized that the caller was serious and it was Brosnan, well, so much for Star Trek.”She was thrilled with the major-league interest in her story, and even more so with the result.”I’m delighted with the movie. It’s a fitting tribute to my father’s bravery in taking on the might of the Catholic Church and the Irish state, in the days when it took an enormous amount of courage.” Doyle, who is obviously still pinching herself, adds, “It is beyond my wildest dreams that Pierce Brosnan would play the part of my father.”I ask her for the real low down on the man best known as Bond. “Don’t forget that Pierce is acting when he’s Bond,” she says. “He’s a much more gentle, kind and sensitive man than Bond.” (I had to agree, having had a close encounter with Brosnan when he was in town for the film fest. I recall him on his hands and knees, helping me retrieve items from my purse that had spilled onto the floor during a festival party.)”Most people perceive him as suave, martini in one hand and a gun in the other, a one dimensional pretty boy, but it takes a real actor to take on the role of a real person, especially one whose family are scrutinizing that character.”Apparently, he passed that test. At the screening, Doyle’s brother turned to her and said “Jesus, that really is the old fella up there.”Despite being awed by Brosnan, Doyle has found some of the media attention he attracts over the movie hard to take. “For example,” she says, “the tabloids in England invented a row between Pierce and me. I’ve never had an argument with Pierce Brosnan.”Even though it was Doyle’s mother that caused the whole ordeal, Evelyn is still sympathetic towards her. “It’s not my job to punish her. She was spoiled, the youngest of a very large family. She couldn’t cope with having a child every year.” Still, there is no chance of a reconciliation. “I haven’t seen her in 30 years. I wouldn’t be interested in meeting her now — that’s all in the past. I lost a parent more than 30 years ago: My grief is spent and I got on with my life.”Doyle is now at work on a sequel to the print version of her story. It’s not an easy task, though, because it’s impossible to provide tidy conclusions to lives still very much in progress. “I hope it will satisfy the need for closure in the minds of the readers who wanted to know what happened next,” she says. “Life is not Hollywood, and it’s not so neatly packaged.”

by Sharon Dunn

Guinness World Records

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They go on like they have broken records

 From the

Sharon Dunn
They go on like they have broken records
New marks in oyster shucking, yo-yoing set at Guinness event

Monday, December 02, 2002
Yo-yoer Fast Eddie MacDonald shows off his haircut trick. At the Guinness World Records Event 2003, held in Toronto last week, two records were broken: Patrick McMurray of Starfish, on Adelaide Street East, earned his first Guinness entry for most oysters shucked in one minute (32, breaking the previous record of 29). And Fast Eddie MacDonald of Hamilton did more than 9,000 yo-yo loops in one hour, breaking his own record set 10 years ago.Getting into The Guinness Book of World Records isn’t easy, says David Drew, Guinness’s representative in Canada for 25 years. What is easier, he adds, is the record keeping. “I would get phone calls in the middle of the night [his name and phone number were in the front of the book of records], telling me that someone broke some record somewhere.”Now you just go to www.guinnessworldrecords.com to tell them what you’ve done. But first, obviously, you should do a bit of research to find out about the record you’re going to beat.Drew tells this story by way of illustration: “Years ago, a disc jockey at a radio station in Vancouver was attempting to break the record for the longest time on a roller coaster. The radio station phoned to tell me that he was closing in on the record and had been on the ride for approximately 150 hours — six days!”I had to tell them that someone from Iceland had recently broken that record.””What’s the new record?”” ‘1,000 hours’ — 41 days!,” I said.”I heard a guy scream, and they hung up. That was the last I heard from them.”The Guinness Book, which turns 50 next year, discourages dangerous stunts, even the once-popular goldfish swallowing.Drew says any bizarre or dangerous proposal gets refused. The best stunts, on the other hand, are those “when groups or organizations get involved for a good cause, for example, the Terry Fox Run, and everyone has a good time.”The record holder for holding records is Ashrita Furman, of Jamaica, N.Y., who has broken 72 records and currently holds 17.”He chooses his stunts very carefully,” says Drew. Furman’s feats include walking 81 miles in slightly under 24 hours with a milk bottle on his head and pogo-sticking up the stairs of the CN Tower.Some record holders make money out of their skills — for example, Fast Eddie MacDonald now sells Fast Eddie yo-yos and has entertained people in 22 countries.Sometimes, people attempt to break what they think will be easy records — like eating four hotdogs with buns in three minutes, without water. It’s not easy, Drew insists. Obviously, records must be authenticated before they go in the book: “We take statements from people who saw them do it, and we rely on videos,” says Drew, adding that he thinks most people are honest. That said, Guinness does retain the right to verify and check the names of witnesses.”I’d like to make the book,” I tell Drew, and ask for some tips.”To be successful, you have to think from a record breakers’ point of view. For example, the annual cut-off date is around late June, so you can break a record in September and if someone comes along and breaks your record before the June deadline they make the book and you don’t.”What else?”OK,” he says. “What is it you’d like to do?””As little as possible. Nothing too strenuous. I don’t want to push a bus a mile or anything like that. Maybe the longest bubble bath?” (I have experience with that one.)Drew does a check and tells me, “There’s no bubble-bath record in place right now, so Guinness might create that category if you’re inclined to make a go of it.”My next step is to fill out an application online, and then, he says, “attempt the feat.””What do you mean, ‘attempt the feat.’ I just intend to bathe. How long do I have to lie there anyway.”He’s not sure.”How about 10 hours?” I offer.”That seems pretty minimal to me,” he says. “You could attempt to break the farthest distance pushing a bathtub,” a record that is currently 318.96 miles by 25 people from a Baptist church in Western Australia.Frankly, the bubble-bath idea is more appealing, so I point out that since I’m creating the stunt I could just stay in the tub for 10 minutes and make the book.Drew tells me firmly that Guinness won’t go for that. “They’ll probably give you some minimums to work with if they think you should attempt it,” he says. “So are you going to do it?”I ponder the possibility.”How about something like the largest number of newspaper reporters in one bathtub?” Drew says.Now that is a scary thought.

by Sharon Dunn

Bistro 990

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Odd doings behind the bar

 From the

Sharon Dunn
Odd doings behind the bar
Am I being overly finicky? I don’t think so
On Tuesday, I found myself at Bistro 990, on Bay Street, awaiting director Chris Wedge, who was in town promoting the DVD release of ‘Ice Age’. Normally, this wouldn’t merit my attention but my dog went wild when I was watching this animated flick. And I’ve heard cats sit mesmerized during this one, too. So I thought it might be fun to talk to the director about it. I thought Bistro would be a good place for the interview because it has the best chicken breast in town. Apparently, Meg Ryan and Sharon Stone think so too, and order the fowl whenever they’re in town — Bistro 990 being Toronto’s restaurant to the stars. I waited at the bar, where the long-time maitre d’, the elegant Fernando, took my coat and gave me a basket of their delicious bread. By the way, Fernando is aware I’m a Post columnist.

As I sat, I noticed something odd happening at the bar. The female bartender was pouring wine through what appeared to be a coffee filter into a carafe. She was having trouble keeping the filter in place. Fernando appeared and, laughing at her dilemma, helped her adjust it, then took over the pouring.
“What are you doing?” I asked. Fernando didn’t reply.
“The bottle’s broken,” the bartender offered. “We’re making sure no shards of glass get in.”
I almost choked on my bread. Then I figured the top of the wine bottle must have a small chip in it, so I took a closer look. I was shocked to discover that about a third of the bottle was completely broken off on a slant. Fernando held on to the broken bottle as wine flowed from it, went through the filter and landed in the carafe. When he finished, he discarded the broken bottle and the filter. Then he carefully poured the contents of the carafe into an empty wine bottle.

To say I was flabbergasted is an understatement.”What kind of wine was that?” I asked the bartender.
“Louis Latour,” she said, then noting my look of concern, added, blushing. “It was a clean break.”
“How much do you charge for Louis Latour wine?” I asked.
“$8 a glass,” she told me.
Bistro 990 is considered a high-class restaurant, and it has high-class prices. I wonder how many patrons would be as shocked as I was at the goings on — and in full sight of someone they knew to be a journalist. If there was nothing wrong with what they were doing, why didn’t they deliver the broken wine bottle to a customer’s table and filter the wine directly into a glass. I wonder how many diners would like that? Perhaps I’m too finicky. I admit I throw food away after the expiry date. I also throw away any broken jars or bottles — as well as their contents. And in a restaurant of this calibre — actually a restaurant of any calibre — I think it’s better to just cut your losses and get on with it. Especially when a reporter is watching.

by Sharon Dunn

Psychic Nikki

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 “You have to admit, it’s kind of eerie”

 From the

Sharon Dunn
‘You have to admit, it’s kind of eerie’
Nikki, psychic to the stars: She predicted Sept. 11, and now she says I’ll marry …

[Photo: National Post]
“You’re going to marry Paul Christian Savonay,” says Nikki, left, to Sharon Dunn. “I think he has vineyards.”

Maybe it’s because there have been one too many amazing coincidences in my life, but something intrigues me about Nikki, psychic to the stars. Matt Dillon, Tom Cruise, Cher and Rod Stewart have all had readings by the attractive clairvoyant. So did Shirley MacLaine for that matter, but you know Shirley MacLaine. “Not just the stars,” Nikki assures me. “I have a long list of clients on Bay Street, even CEOs.” No, Nikki will not disclose who her heavy hitter clients are, and I can understand that. Would you really want to do business with someone who makes decisions based on Nikki’s predictions? Actually, maybe you would, since she doesn’t seem to have a bad track record.
“I’m often asked my advice on the stock market,” she says. “I knew the markets were going down. I said so in 1999.” Now she tells me. Apparently Nikki even predicted on the Toronto radio station ‘The Edge’ months before Sept. 11, that a plane would hit the World Trade Center.
“Hundreds of listeners called the station,” she says. “They remembered that I had predicted it.”
I decide that perhaps this is one prediction I should check out for myself, and I make a call to Jeff Domet, who worked at the station at the time and who is now the producer of The Humble & Fred Show on Mojo Radio, where Nikki is a regular guest. Domet remembers the prediction well.
“It was in April of 2001,” he recalls. “Nikki said that there would be a terror attack on New York City, and that a plane would hit the World Trade Center.”
When I ask Domet if he believes in this kind of thing, he replies, “I don’t necessarily believe, but, you have to admit, it is kind of eerie.” Eerie, yes, but I want to be convinced, so enough on the past. How about some predictions now, so I can be the judge of Nikki’s psychic abilities?”

There will be more terror attacks in the U.S.” she says, “nerve gas in the New York subway system.” And a terror attack on the U.S. West Coast that has to do with water. “I’m not sure if it’s the ocean or drinking water,” she says, “but expect an earthquake around the same time.” On the stock market, “things will get worse before they get better.” Now that’s a prediction that’s hard to believe. “But the markets and general economy will pick up in 2004 and 2005, and there will be 10 great years of prosperity.”

Nikki, who has worked with police forces on some of Canada’s bigger murder cases, says she doesn’t like foretelling events on tough topics. “It’s too frightening,” she says, adding that she gets her visions in the middle of the night. “I’m afraid of the repercussions because of some of the predictions I make,” she says. She would prefer to do entertainment predictions, like when she predicted that Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise would split, that Ronnie Hawkins would get sick, and that the Stones would have some trouble with health. She made the Stones prediction a day before a roadie on the Stones tour died of a heart attack. “I hate to say it,” she tells me, “but I still see negativity around the Stones.” On a lighter note, she says that Oprah Winfrey will definitely marry (Stedman Graham) within a year, and that Cher will get married within two years.
“And, Sharon, you’re going to get married within 18 months,” she adds. Now that got my attention. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll tell you the name of the man you’re going to marry,” she says. The name? That would be a bonus, and certainly a time saver.
“Go stand by a tree,” says Toronto publicist Gino Empry, Nikki’s long-time boyfriend. “She has good luck by trees,” he tells me, adding nonchalantly, “she does this all the time.” Nikki stands under a tree concentrating for a few moments before walking back to me and announcing,
“You’re going to marry Paul Christian Savonay.””Who?” I ask.
“That’s the name I’m getting,” she says confidently.
“Doesn’t he sound a bit like a bottle of wine?”, I ask.
“As a matter of fact,” she says, “I think he has vineyards.”
“Maybe Cher’s going to marry him”, I offer.
“No, it’s you,” the clairvoyant confirms with conviction.

I’ve never heard of a Paul Christian Savonay (Nikki’s not sure of the spelling), but for any of my readers who might know him, please ask him to get in touch. After all, according to Nikki, we only have 18 months to plan the wedding. If this pans out, Nikki will have made a believer out of me. Even if Paul Christian doesn’t have vineyards, a wine cellar would do just fine.

by Sharon Dunn Updated Thurs Jane 30/25 Still waiting for Paul Christian..