In December 2014 I opened the Late Show website and requested tickets for a few dates in March. With less than 60 shows to go until Letterman retired I figured it a long shot at best and at worst an apathetic; "well, at least I tried."
On March 20th a 212 area code appeared on my phone. I decline most unknown numbers but I took this one, because...just...well...just because, dammit. After I said hello I heard the voice of an angel say; "Hi, this is Jon from the Late Show with David Letterman!" His voice was as strong, bright, and silky like Robuchon mashed potatoes.
Jon called offering tickets to the show.
Jon called offering tickets to The Late Show with David Letterman.
Jon called offering tickets to see one of my comedy heroes.
Jon called offering tickets to see one of my heroes before he leaves television and hides in Montana forever.
Jon shall be now and forever referred to as Jon, Ticketing Lord and Deliverer of Dreams.
The skeptic in me thinking I was being punked was drowned out by elated screams of my younger self. The call came on a Friday afternoon and Jon, Ticketing Lord and Deliverer of Dreams, needed a firm commitment by the following Monday. I'll skip the details but I got off work, justified the cost of a under-two-week plane ticket, and found another Letterman nut job to go with me.
Jon, Ticketing Lord and Deliverer of Dreams, told us to arrive at 2:00 PM. Our friend, Michael, (who does not fight crime on the weekend with his talking Trans Am) attended a taping a few weeks prior and he urged us to arrive earlier.
We slid in the crowd control measure and soon a line of about 70 then a hundred or more had formed behind us. The forecast of rain started to arrive and as if by instinct, the Pages appeared with a box of umbrellas and dispersed them to those not under the marquee.
Pages dispersing umbrellas - Photo: Brett Bawcum
The Pages are more than just the small army that seats the guests. They are as important to the live experience as the CBS Orchestra, Kalter, or the Top Ten. The Pages are the show's cheerleaders and biggest fans but not in annoying way that makes you want to push them off the roof of the theatre. They hold the keys to the best seats and give insights into Dave and the show. They deliver the rules but in a way that doesn't dampen your enthusiasm. The Pages speak clearer than I ever did in my early 20s with more energy than I did too. But most importantly; they enhance the experience. If these ladies and gentlemen are entertainment's future; we're in good hands.
There were two or three security personal in trench coats that stood out like Larry Melman at a college kegger. These men were 60-70 years old, with in-ear communication devices and generally didn't smile but at the same time were not unpleasant. They didn't interact with anyone but each other and occasionally a Page. They were there to hover. A last resort if you will. The Pages were running this portion of the show.
Finally time to go inside. First we give our names and IDs to the Page at the front door. She matches our ID with our faces and with names on her list. We are allowed to pass through the front doors and vestibule and proceed to the next Page 15 feet inside. The walls are a drab light gray. She checks our IDs and stamps the back of our hands with an invisible ink. I have no idea what this was for. No one ever checked the backs of our hands for the duration of our stay.
Now we moved on to a group of three Pages, each one behind a lectern. The lovely young lady in the middle, who will forever be know as, Favorite Page, beckoned us over. She was as nice as could be. (She reminded me of a Kathy from high school church choir, if you can ever believe I did such a thing. We were in puppets together. I love puppets.) Favorite Page asked which list we were on. Jon, Ticketing Lord and Deliverer of Dreams, told me we would be on "Jon's Gold List" which I clearly stated if not loudly over-enunciated.
It turns out there may or may not be a "Jon," Ticketing Lord and Deliverer of Dreams. As we found out later, the lists are just a mechanism to split up the vast number of names to speed the process along. Again, after 22 years of fine tuning the process, you figure stuff out. Favorite Page looked up after finding our names and asked if we were excited for the show and if we had a favorite part we were looking forward to.
This was a test. This was the test to separate the cabin boy's from the Regis-es. But we didn't know this was a test at the time. I awkwardly blurted out something about Know Your Cuts of Meat and peeing myself. This earned a smile, a laugh, and Favorite Page placing a small sticker on the back of our tickets with her initials. She pointed us to the next Page. The next Page looked at the back of our tickets and drew a line through the sticker with the initials. She pointed us back to the vestibule at the entrance of the theatre to two more Pages.
There were about 8-10 attendees in the vestibule all on one side with two Pages talking to them from the other side. There was light comedy banter between the Pages and the group. The Pages know how to entertain and keep the energy up. They nonchalantly glanced at our tickets and asked us to stand between them on their side. We had no idea why we were being held away from the rest of the group. When enough people had gathered in the vestibule the group was taken one direction and we were escorted outside.
Once outside the Page explained that someone (Favorite Page) had identified us as "super fans" and as such we would be seated in the center section and in the first three rows.
Come again?
How do?
WAHT?
WHAT.
He showed us a bar around the corner where others like us would gather and to come back at 3:30. Skipping how we killed that hour, we arrived back at 3:15 to be 3rd and 4th in line.
The VIPs were ahead of us. These were friends, family members, and guests of the show. They went into the lobby first. Then they brought us in and stantioned us off behind the VIPs. We were right outside the main doors to the actual theatre. There is a picture of Ed hanging in this area along with signs everywhere not to take photographs. We hung out here for a bit.
Photo: @Letterman Twitter account
Through all of this the door to the theatre would occasionally open and you'd hear a bit of soundcheck come through. You could briefly see the center part of the stage. If this was the tease, it worked. Oh and while we waited I used the bathroom in the Ed Sullivan Theatre, cause when in Rome...
Then a magical thing happened. The VIPs were all taken to the balcony. "It's the best seats in the house" we heard the Pages say. Then it all made sense. Those seats would be better as they have no cameras, crew, or staff to obstruct their view. Plus it'd be real tacky to stick your friends and family in the first three rows. With the VIPs out of the way the theatre doors opened.
I always imagined the Ed Sullivan Theatre deeper than it looks on TV but that's probably just lighting. According to the wiki it only seats 400 and I'd bet 300 of those are on the floor. We kept walking forward down the audience right aisle toward the Page at the front. All the way to the front. Took a left towards the band until the two people in front of us sat down. And there we were, front row center, seats 3 and 4, at The Late Show with David Letterman.
The set is beautiful and far more vibrant in person. It sparkles. It is beautiful. You've seen it but in person, there's a crispness that doesn't translate through the TV. Or I might just have an 8 year old television.
Over the next two hours things are fuzzy. It was part dream state, part euphoria, part wake-up-and-remember-everything-you-can-idiot.
At some point after everyone was seated the Pages came down the aisles and started clapping to some music so we clapped along. Favorite Page told us earlier in the day that this was the most awkward moment for them and to please help make it less so by clapping with them. Favorite Page is an enthusiastic clapper.
Read this next part in the voice of Alec Baldwin.
"Just laugh. Even if the joke isn't funny. Just laugh now. Think about how the joke wasn't funny during dinner or on your way home. But for now, just laugh."That's the part of the video I remember I hope they release it.
Kalter came back out to show us the hand signals he would be using during the show to indicate what he needed us to do. Alan isn't just the announcer and occasional jokester; he's the head cheerleader. Closed fists with rotating in circles like a boxer meant applause. There was also this move from The Rock.
That meant more applause. Alan did it a lot quicker, with a smile, and without anger eyes or the blood.
The final move was pretending to smooth down his hair and straighten his tie. This would cue us to freshen ourselves up for the act 5 camera flyover that shows the audience. Video evidence of this and the moment we became Beyonce-famous is below.
Alan comes back, pokes fun of the brunette sitting to my left. He includes me in the gag at some point and suddenly it's implied that she is married to her date on her left and me. She's into it and gives two thumbs up. Man, this day can not get any better.
Alan intros the band one by one and they crank up a tune. Then Paul is announced and he waves and takes his time sliding into his catacomb of organs. Paul wore a grey camouflage suit that evening.
The fully assembled CBS Orchestra took off into a tune that for the life of me I can't remember. Then Alan introduces David Letterman. He walks out effortlessly in that evening's suit sans jacket, takes the wired handheld microphone from Alan, and welcomes us to the show. He shares a little bit but then jumps to audience questions.
He took two and neither are of significance because they were both about the questioners and not about Dave or the show. I came prepared with a question but froze. After all he was standing 3 feet in front of me leaning on the monologue camera.
After the second question he looked to his producer who sits next to Alan and asked if it was time. He thanked us and ran backstage as the band started the theme song. They weren't playing him off, this was the start of show number 4232 with David Duchovny, Josh Gad, and musical guest Houndmouth.
Allan bellowed Dave's name, Dave ran across the stage, and then walked straight towards us right back to the spot he was just standing in a moment ago. He then went into the monologue. 8 feet in front of us.
First commercial break. Dave takes off his jacket and walks over to the desk. The monologue camera and the guest camera all slide into position in front of the desk along with a monitor for Dave. The desk is probably about 30 feet from us and 20 feet from the closest audience member. He takes his jacket off during the breaks and stands up to meet with staffers and writers as the show goes on.
The band is playing and it's beyond impressive. It's effortless and precise. I've thought it before and after watching live I'm convinced; the CBS Orchestra is the best house band that has ever been on television. Yes, better than Doc and NBC Orchestra and better than Conan's Tonight Show band as well.
Seeing Tom Malone play live? As much on the bucket list as being at this show. His ability to play so many instruments on such a high level is absurd. Over the course of this taping he played trombone, tenor sax, plastic trombone, and baritone sax. Who does that? Who can do any of that so well? Paul is the ringmaster talking into his secondary mic giving orders and calling tunes.
Among more than I can remember we heard the CBS Orchestra perform "Got to Get You into My Life" (one of my favorites), "What is Hip", "People Got to be Free," and a nifty instrumental version of Foo Fighter's, "The Pretender." They play through all of the commercial breaks. There was a cute moment when Frank the trumpeter fist bumped Malone after nailing the "Got to Get You" horn lick.
During commercials people in staff jackets are delivering hand-written notes to Paul, Dave, and others. Bill Sheft is walking around looking like Bill Scheft always does.
Segments
During the last commercial break Brett looked at me, smiled, leaned forward and touched the stage. Oh yes. I quickly followed. I was 7 years old and it was Christmas morning.
Here's where we became Beyonce-famous.
Video: World Wide Pants, editing: Brett Bawcum
During this break the crew was setting up for the evening's musical guest, Houndmouth. The cityscape backdrop rolled up exposing the backstage cinderblock wall. The majority of the backline was wheeled into place and the backdrop replaced. New lighting was being dialed in. The rest of the gear was quickly delivered all being overseen but not directed by Biff. The audience even in the dim light recognized and gave Biff a nice round of applause which he graciously accepted. What amazed me was the absence of a discernible line check. All of this happened in about 5 minutes.
The show ended with Dave coming over and thanking the band as he does. The CBS Orchestra was hanging behind receiving notes. They seemed to be waiting on us to leave so they could rehearse. Dave disappeared when I wasn't looking.
We began the short walk out of the theatre. I've never walked slower in my life. I kept looking back trying to steal one final memory.
We left, ate a NYC street hotdog, hailed a cab, and went to the airport. I got home in time to watch the episode.
The entire experience exceeded my wildest dreams. It is one of the best things I've ever done in my life. I won't say exactly where on my life's top ten list this will land as I don't want to piss off my Lasik doctor or any of the women in my life. Let's just say it's way up there.
Special thanks to Dr. Michael Knight. He gave us some great advice which put us in position to get really really lucky. Mike, thank you so much for your assistance and insights!
Bonus: Before lunch we stopped by the Hello Deli. Rupert was very kind in helping me pick out up a t-shirt. His accent seems less thick in person or perhaps the producers tell him to amp it up for the show. He looked tired. Maybe he's ready to retire too. I don't know. As I left I said; "Thank you for all the laughs." He smiled with a slight chuckle and quietly said; "oh, you're welcome." There was something very sweet and peaceful in his response.
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