E'RE COMIN" REEGEI" SQU EAL THE I-ADIES FROM QU EENS,pushing uigg\, ringJatlen Jingers inl,o my bach and, pok-ing big 'dos through euery doorutay as the Line in lhe ABCBroadcast Center JinalLl motes. "Where's Codl? We)anka see Cod)!"Ten blocks south, SaLb Jet, Raphail is engaged in a

preshou hudtlle. She's speahing in hushetl- Lones-o[-grau -imporLance uith lhe Panel apqearing on her show, uhenlhe Russian woman behind, me shouls, "Vee can'L hearyou!" The Emml-uinning glasses uhip around so fasl Id,uch. "You're not suqqosed to! We're Lalkitrg pritatelJ!"

chairmak, "and tell him it's godd,--ed. cold, at CBS.""Going uell, going uelL, going uell . . . " Donahue murmurs

mantra-lihe, racing up one oJ the manl aisLes . . .Gerald,o d,rops Lhe mihe

to bLou us a hiss. "Lateyou!" I d,uck.

For one day this win-ter, as millions ofAmeri-cans rosewith a finger onthe remote to inaugurateanother day of incessanttelevision viewing, Ibroke through the fourthwall and went along forthe ride - from theinside. As quick as theycould jump channels, Iwas hopping cabs, subways and buses in adesperate attempt to sitin every studio audiencegathered in New YorkCity in one day. Iscreamed with Regis,cried with Sally, Iaughedwith Joan, walkedthrou$h Geraldo's metaldetector and commiser-ated with Phil. Had Ibeen allowed in, Iwould've caught the ironywith David Letterman,but instead was forced toreflect on a differentirony - that of all shows, only l-etterman's barsjournalists.

In f-evered col laboration with my studio audience mates -

through wild applause, thoughtful questioning, compas-sionate facial expressions, heroic suppression of the naturalurge to wave aL the monitor, and above al l else, an enthusiasm for our hosts that knew no bounds - we became the mostvital element in their success. Or so we were haranEued intobe l i ev i ng b r e re ry se tond - ra te r om i , o r ove rwo r l ed p rodu , -

er who "warmed us up."Each show has a waiting period ofanywhere from one month

to a year for tickets. I admit that mine were arranged throughthe shows' saintly publicists, but in keeping with the everymanspirit ofthe piece, I refirsed the VIP rreatment usually reservedIbr the press and, instead, inconspicuously well , as incon-spicuously as a 3l -year-old lug ofa fellow can amid mostly mid-dle-aged women from the suburbs and plains - did it general-public style. This meant, first and foremost, standing in line.

Itne with Regis & lbthie l€€'fens get close to dEir lReeae" (center, wilh execrrlilE producer Mictlael Gekmn) whih Kalhie Lee plays it low*ey in the background.

Live With Hegis & l(athie [ee8:40 a.m. The only l ine in town with a view - a street- levelpanorama of swank Columbus Avenue bustl ing at this t imeof morning with people rushing to places they're expectedand rushing past us - the /iagir (l Kathie Lee line.

"Ohmigodl Is it - ?" "Could it be - ?" The limo that stoppedbeside the window acts as a kind of gigantic fur-and accessorymagnet shifting our line to the left. For a tense momentwe teeteron tiptoes, defying all laws ofgravity; handbags and coats abandoned to the floor, disposable Kodaks at the ready, awaiting anemergence liom a vehicle now imbued with the majesty of thePope-mobile. A uniforrned man gets out ofthe driver's side andlights a cigarette. A hopeful voice, midJine, cries out, "I recog-nize him! He's in a soapl" But another from the back drones,

"That's the driver, silly."Whereupon, nature re-tains order and the linefalls back into formation.

"Kathie ke's a bitch,"says Norma, {iom Hope-well Juncrion in upstateNew York. Line t imeprovides ample opportunity to assess the feruor of'fans who, flushed withthe excitement ofbeingin close proximity totheir heroes, are apt togush. '"Frank, Frank,Frank' and now it's'Cody,

Cody, Cody'

[Kathie Lee's husbandand sonl - enough al-r eady ! I go tahusbandand four kids of myown!" Norma catches herbreath. "But R?glt/"8:50 a.m. "Has atybodytold you how importantyou are?" The sound of179 makeup compactssnapp ing shu t r i ngsthrough the studio,f i l led to i ts 180-personcapacity. Michael Gel-

man, the ubiquitous executive-producer-cum comic foi l tothe hosts, leans fbrward, a hand cupped at his ear.

"NO!" we shout in unison."You are al l very, very, zary important to the show," says

Gelman, deft ly launching into "The Warm Up."For the uninit iated, rhe warm-up is a kind of extract ion of

human dignity l iom the audience member in l ieu of anadmission charge. Unlike, say, the theater or church, whereit is assumed gathered people are capable of making basic'human

responses, a[ TV shows you have to be taught how torespond and when to respond. Most of the t ime i t 's whensomeone in a headset makes frcnetic hand signals at you,weird movements that would usually cause you to run.

And then there are rules. The following is a small samplingfrom al l the shows and is, perhaps, avai lable in manifestoform fiom your local Headset-Wearing Frenetics' Association:

"Ninety-eight percent of the t ime, you're on-camera, so

u s J U N E t 3 , t 9 9 t . 3 7

don't give the l inger." thusiastical ly. Never having hear-r l ofthe There's a satel l i te leedl""You represent America, so unfold trendy restaurant (whic:lr Regis co-o.rvns), l l r r s t r r d i o . l i l l e d r o c , r p e r i r l . l a l l s

youf arms." Norma thinks he's talking about an si lenr. The kind of si lence that sur-"No barking _ that's another net\^,ork." address on Columbus Avenue. rounds a famous Derson in tlreit firsL {ew"Don't point at the overhead moni "What? Columbus rvhere?1" r lr t is ls momenr\ rt t |urrs pc,,ple unaccustomed

tors People at home wil l think you're " l t 's a reslaurdn t," Regis says. Hetrrms tobeingirr the pr-esence of fame. Thelooking at airplanes." away frorn Normaand invites thewhole kind of si lencJ that o.curs x,hen a

"Act interested - even i fyou're not-" audience. "I t 's the best in the cit ,vl" schoolmarnt says, "Nobody is leaving. . N o n e o f t h i s w o o f i n g ' ' ' t h i s c l a s s r o o m L i l l w e f i n d o u t

Joan RiveG (above) and her loyal audience gel rcady for some sedoustalking; Geraldo lrants out with his two biagest fans, Viola (lett) andSqueaky (bottom) - "my two mistresses" - who raiely miss a slrow.

. . P u L e v e r y t h i n g P h i l m i g h t | r r h . r c h a l k e d t h e e r a s e r s ! , '

- t -

- - . -- - . - = - -

E- il- ---!- ----E '1- _ . -

h o n t r o l . R r g i s i r r t r o d u c r s l l r . | = - . , ^ _ , . - . . - ' . - _ | 1 t t i ' h r n e t o r r | r | ' . . i < r | r e o h -roho"t ...1eera Libb,'n.. |

- irr<ine; eeraloo ran's out w1h his two bias..i l ;.,;#tfif i l l ." srttv rsspon.r. Wr. rhe

L,eza Cibbon,l !The groans I squeaky (bottoml-,.my two mistresses', -*rro,". .r". i" . " "rr"*.

I arrdien,e, ler orrt orrr col leca r e n o t q o m u c I r a n i n d i t t l | | t i v e b r e a t h . I n c l n e s t u n n i n g

-_l-d U | v | l P - 5 } | ' | t | | | t s | | - r | I n | \ o n e . 1 \ ( P | r n d | . I

r --L - -- -G - - -

, , R e e g e ! R e e g e ! , , ' s h e c a | | s i n | | d e s p e l a t e s o u l s v e n t u r e

| l | d l u n c o m l o t | a D l } ' , - ' ' ' a l | . ' | ' | h \ a | | h ! o m e k l n d o l s . r l L | -way fans address stars as if they're long-lost fr iends. A big Regis fan, Normadrove three hours through snow and iceto be here and tapes the show every dayto watch after work.

Regis reads Norma's sign ("llow wouldyou like to have lunch wiLh four gir.ls?")and winces. "I have to go to Colurnbus lbrlunch. I ' l l meet you there," he says unen-

Nor-ma puts her sign in her bag and sirsback. When I phone her- a weck later shetells me she hasn'twatchecl the shou,since.

Sally Jessy Haphatill0:50 o,.n. The hostess, havingjust madeher enttance, is in a srr i t . "Dou't wc havea monilot? I thotreht we hacl a rnonitor.

tat ion ol- quel) ' - orrt of rny earshot inrhe back - the host smiles curt ly andadministers quick-rvorded responses.She lras 21 show to do, for gJoodness sakel

But there's that Sal ly Jessy Raphadleui l ty conscience b contend with f irst.After scolcl ing my Russian neighbor forinterrrrpt ing her c()nversation with thep:rtrel, Sal ly seems distracted and out of

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sorts, constantly glancing back at theRussians. Perhaps she's mentally rerun-ning old SallyJessy Rapha€l shows thatcovered problems like this (SuppressedGuilt? Nah. Soviet-American Relations?Nope. What to Do When a Parent StartsLos ing Facu l r ies? B ingo l r . Hands t ighr -ly clenched she turns to us, "I was men-tioning to my guests . . . "

Refreshed and relieved ofher burden,Sally launches into an Emmy-worthyspeech abour the occasional lail ings ofthe American legal system, today's topic."I need you to think, listen and then asxquestions," she orates with grave deport-ment. "What you're doing today mightturn out to be very, very important."

.LOUDER!''

I duck and stay ducked. Every head tumsto the Russian. Sally's glasses needwipers.

"Madam," she says in a very low vorce,"would you like to sit down here?" Thewoman proudly shakes her head no.Sally appears at a loss forjust a moment- bu t no t lo r long . because she is aproblem solver by vocation and she's gotthat mental VCR. "Can we get her achair down here? She's having real trou-ble hearing and she seems disrurbedl"

The woman doesn't budge from herseat. A staffer places a chair in the frontrow and beckons her down. After a longpause, she rises and regally descends -fo l lowed bv a posse o I exc i red g i r l -friends toting handbags and coats.

Ihe Joan Hivers Show12:15 p.m. Er'tetirr.gthe CBS building, I'maccosted by pages demanding to know"Geraldo or.foan?" Unsure ifit's a popu-larity quiz or ifI've been mistaken for oneofthe hosts, my doubts are resolvedwhenthe page points to the suddenly ez logrzeantiterrorist contraption and barks,'jGeraldo's

audience that way!" The vcryexistence ofthe metal detector imbues thelobby with a sense of danger that's, well,serr. Both l ines thri l l in rhe r. ave ol panirthat results each time the alarm is trig-gered by a woman in hairspray.

On the other side of the lobby, a rar-sized animal sni(Is at a woman's ankle.She screams. For heaven's sake, sheshould've recognized Spike by theleopard jacket. Rivers scoops up herte r r r f i ed pooch and scu r r i es t h roughthe l obbv i n t i n r h i gh -hee led s reps .12:30 p.n. "We have to clear this aisle,"saysJoan Rivers, making a path throughthe overflow crowd in her studio. Acurvywoman stands and.foan zings. "Nicebody. Bitch." Someone leaves ajacket,Rivers lunges. "Found i t l" The woman

comes back for it, Rivers hesitates, thenrelinquishes it. "S--!" Then, "Where'smy chairs?" she barks, stepping backonstage. Informed they're not neededfor the first segment, she turns to theaudience. "I thought they sold themr"

Wi th rhe r ountdown to tap ingmoments away, Rivers isn't finished withthe audience. "Who's got questions?"

"Ever have liposuction?""Ofcourse I 've had liposuction!""How many times?""How m ny times?!"She d,oesn'|, hate lo d,o llris. The count-

down is on and the stage manager is [ran-tically waving her backstage.

"Any more?"'Joan, I think you're gieat... ""You could say,'I thinkyou're a piece of

s--' and I'd still answer your question."A t wh i rh po in t . rhe s rage manager

grabs Rivers by arm and drags her off-stage - but not before she calls over hershoulder, "We'll lali during the breaLl"

Someone has to remind Joan Riversshe has a TV show bq13u5s. dsspire beingin a studio surrounded by lights, camerasand her o rnn logo. she Leeps comingback to the audience. As studio audiencesgo, this is the best game in town.

Rivers can't give enough. The consum-

mate live performer, some, no, tos, ofher best moments happen off-camera.Ofien she'l l seem startled and un-prepared when a camera dollies in andinterrupts a tete-i-tete with the audience.

And does she talk!"Will you ever haveJohnny Carson on

your show?""I don't think I'll ever have Johnny

Carron in my house. Rirers goes fromtough - "The press said I walked out onhim. Bulls- I" to vulnerable - "I metEdgar fher late husband] on Carson'sshow. After his suicide,Johnny never evensent me a note. I'll never forgive him forthat." The audience and crew falls sitent.Rivers has the uncanny ability to make herstudio feel like an intimate place and every-one in it her confidante - all without los-ing her edge. "Well, I don't think Carsonlikes women," says awoman consolingly.

"Except those slutty tramps he manies."The final segment ends with the Boys

Cho i r o I Har lem s ing ing "Amaz ingGrace." Alierward, a moved Rivers asksher director if the choir can do anothernumber to run under the show's creditsinstead ofthe usual still shots. "And canwe keep the camerajust on the boys sotheir mothers see more of them?"

She d,oesn't hnae Lo dn this.

u 5 l u N E r 3 , r 9 9 r . 3 9

rlivo with Reds & lGthie Lee' I€ns eagerly wait for the show lo begin (.bove and opposite).

As the choir prepares, she marches to thecameraman, "Show auary kid. It's veryimportant." And with a wink to the audi-ence, "Because when you're a parenL, youdon't give a s--- about the other kids."

n t l

berat002:50 p.m.

-fhe host wanders, mid aisle,

h e a d d , , u n . s e d r { h i n B [ n r s o m r t h i n B .Offstage, Geraldo's private securityguard, a stern-looking fel low with abushy mustache, stands just out ofcam-era range, never losing sight ofhis temporari ly disoriented charge.

Suddenly Geraldo stops and plants hisf ce r .

' l h i . , he ann , ' u r r r es I o no on r i n

part icular, " is my spot lbr start ing mySpecial Investigative Reportsl"

Phew! Imagine start ing today's showon breasr implants someplace elsel

"This is a remn topic!" complains CarolofNew.Jersey. "They did it on loan Rfuer."

' ' And . a ma le f l i gh l . r r l endan l i n un iform pipes in, "befbre that i t was on20/2a, and The Home Shou does it every, ) r h e r $ e e k . H a r r u m p h : \ e g r u n l i nunison. Rerun topicsl

Cerald,o rs the only show that not onlyacceprs but actively solicits groups. Today'saudience includes a busload ofsenior urrzens liom Schenectady, New York, and amedia arts class Iiom the South Bron-x. But,exemplary as he is at getting them, commun ica t i ng rn i t h l hem i . ano lhe r { l on

"trVho's from farthest away?" asksGeraldo with a smile that seems to beaching at the corrrers. His preshow ascentinto the audience is forced and uncom-fortable. IIe looks like the kid who thinks

everyone's laughing behind his back or,worse, that at any moment someonemight sock him in the kisser. A basic trrrsti n t h . a u d i e n c e i r m i s . i n g . D u r i n gbreaks, he usually flees backstage. But hisreluctance to part icipate with the audience off-camera doesn't seem snobbish.Hardly. He simply seems insecure.

The folks around me don't notrce.They're too busy debating whether ornot the schizophrenic on Joan Rivers'Iirst shorv was a Iiaud. "She had l8 per-sonali t ies," the I l ight attendant informsthe few of us who had the mislbrtuuco f be ing e l sewhere , "and we 'd shou tone out and she'd change into i t l"

Final ly, Jessica Hahn appears on theoverhead monitor, all cleavage and thensome, via satel l i te from Phoenix. Theaudience groans. "She's the one thatslept with rhat preacher," announces ther.uman behirrd me. "She slept * i th eveqone, honey," says the Ilight attendant.

" l m 1u . t l ea rn inq abou t t he dangennow," reports Hahn of the possiblehealth threats posed by breast implants,and so, of course, she agreed to be onGerald,o to discuss her nervfound fears.

The instant the first break is called,Hahn goes south and undoes another but-ton on her blouse. The audience hoots.During subsequent breaks, unaware thatthe camera stays on and her every moveis being applauded and encouraged bythe New York audience, Hahn revealsmore and more of her srugically endan-ge red ches r . a r rang ing and rea r rang ingher dir olJetage erery rhance she get..

I Iahn's act ivi t ies during the commer-cials become the most anticipated

'lth€n you're a Regig ad Xa$b l€e far, you're d6/oot," prcchinrs the slbrlds exedrtive producer.

moments in the show. The f inal breakfinds a little old fellrx{ in a headset enter-ing the f i-ame to assist Jessica in a newrourrd ofcleavage readjustments. Such aroar-erupts in the audience rhat Geraldorurrs from backstage and looks up."Lookl" cr ies the $,oman beside rnc."Cc ra ldo * b l u .h i ng i .And i ndced . he i s .

' lhroughout al l this, an elderly

.Jamaican accented $,oman named Violasits chuckl ing on the aisle in rhe best seatin the house. In { iont of her, wearing afaux lur hat and occupying the otherbest seat in Lhe house, si ts a t iny ladycal led Squeaky. Carson had Mrs. N,l i l ler;Geraldo has Viola and Squeaky.

A veteran ofnrore than 700 shows (shelost count even belore they gave her a sur-prise party at 100), \riola coures "to keepmy mincl occupied - oDce I get startedon one thing, I keep on doing i t ."Squeaky has been to a lot less, or a fewnlore - she $on't say specifically becauseneither lady wanrs to outdo the other.

' 'My two mistresses," Geraldo says,

int loducing them to the audience. "Icouldn't do i t rvi thout them." You bel ievehim, too. During a bleak, he lras Violastantl and hug him and then he sits onher lap. To the surprise of most, i t seemsgenuine. Talking wirh a technicran,Geraldo's h:rnd absentmindedly rvandersdown and caresses Viola's cheek.

After the inlamous audie[ce "r ior,"Geraldo, u, i th a broken and bloodynose, searched the studio unri l he foundthe fr ightened Viola in the back. Withan ambulance wailing, he woulc.ln't leaveunti l he convinced Viola not to take thesubrvay and accept the car he'd

arranged to take her home k) Brooklyn.She came back to the show the next day.

3:55 p.m. "Phil? PHILI Come here!" PalMcMil len, Donahue's executive producer, hasjust f inished her warm-up and istrying to catch Phil , who is running al lo r e r t h e p l a L e . F i n a l l l g r a b b i n g h i n r .she st icks out her tongue, l icks the palmof her hand and squashes his corvl ick.

The man has an uncooperative cowlick.There. I said something bad aboutl ) onah r re . Bes ide t l r e t ou l i , k , su { f i , e i t r o

say, Donahue does everything the othersdid wrong right and everything they didright better (except, Rivers beats him in thecomedy category). He asks the besL ques-tions, logs more staircase miles andrespects his audience more than anyoneelse. But I'll have to stop there. To say anymore would be gushing and I would r islbeing r ar ted ol l to an in' t i tut ion orr , ' t rspi-

cion of klieg light-induced dementia.To end a day spent lost in the sea o[

laces (that I used to tale fbr granted) fil-ing out ofa studio where the host standsat the door individual ly thanking eachand every audience member fbr comingrvas, well , subl ime. I want to say, "Wait

here, Phi l , I gotta go round up about800 people scaltered al l or,er God-onlyknows-where-by-now who deserve thrs,t oo . " Bu t , i ns l ead , I j us t shake h i sextended hand and say, "You're ivel-come - ?r, had a great l ime." I

Tom O'Neil l is a lreelance atr i ler Liting in Neu Yorh.

Phil Donahue