After months of sending out e-mails
to producers, PR reps and web site sign-ups requesting audience admission to
Rachael Ray's CBS morning talk show, I finally received a reply. When I clicked
on my inbox a few weeks ago, I found that I was not only invited to the filming
of one of the new season's episodes of the show, but that I was invited to
THREE upcoming episodes! Ask and you shall receive. Also, the
invitation not only allowed myself in, but it extended for up to three other
guests to join me! My cup runneth over!
However, says the fine print, I may only attend one of the three episodes for
this season–so they can keep the audience fresh and new, and give others a
chance to experience the Rachael Ray show as well. But, I had the choice of any
of the three I wanted. Fine. I'll just go
this once, but I might be back next season Rachael Ray, you haven't heard the
last of me. Of the three dates I was given, I chose today's noon taping and
sent my reply the minute I finished reading the e-mails.
This morning, after being stuck on
the downtown train for thirty-five minutes, due to a signal malfunction, I met
with my guest of choice, Erin, the only person who I could think of that could
stomach my giddy, over the top excitement without wanting to punch me in the
face. After a slow ride through Manhattan we finally made it to the CBS studios
with an hour to spare. Erin's a good sport–not quite a foodie like me–but she can
certainly appreciate good food when she eats it. While standing outside in the
inferno of summer's last stand for an hour, trying hopelessly to keep our
perspiration from getting out of control, we basked in the happiness of having a
Friday off and of finally seeing a live taping of Rachael Ray. In line I
noticed that of maybe a hundred people, including us, most of the audience
members were middle-aged woman with a sad handful of men. Two of which were
definitely dragged by their governing wives. Poor guys. In our very carefully
chosen outfits, in accordance to the guidelines of the producers' meticulous
dress code, we all looked like a box of crayons melting in the heat while
waiting patiently to go into the studio. For the past few weeks we've all been
sent reminders of the dress code until they were practically drilled into our
heads. They were being as tough on us as nuns at a catholic school. We weren't
allowed to wear sneakers, flip flops, sequins, (Really? No sequins? Dang it!) ripped jeans, khakis, capris,
hats, T-shirts, white or off-white clothes of any kind. Jewel tones only. Sheesh,
Rachael, you're killing my wardrobe. Did they forget that the show was
based out of New York? The color scheme for a typical New Yorker's wardrobe
consists of probably 70% black, 10% dark blue, 10% white, 8% gray matter and 2%
bright red for those sultry, look at me nights. I had to dig deep for the
outfit I had on and Erin almost had to make a trip out to the middle of Queens
to search through her storage unit.
At noon,
the line shuffled like a herd of cattle into the building and went through a
tight security check just inside the door. My first thought when I took a look
at the dreaded metal detector and three guards was, why on earth would Rachael Ray need this kind of security? Unless...it
was the special guest on the show who needed the extra security measures. How exciting. None of us were told who
the special guest was going to be, probably for the purpose of keeping the
element of surprise as genuine as possible for the cameras and to keep the
unwanted visitors during the filming. Hmm.
Once through security we filed into another line for mug shot-like photos.
Here, everyone in the audience stood one-by-one against a wall, smiled for the
camera, then took a seat in the waiting room when they were done. While I was
standing in line to take my own picture, I couldn't help but think that this
felt like being in a science fiction movie. I imagined that we were probably
smiling for a photo that would later be used against us in case of an escape.
Our fictional characters thought we were just going to a talk show, but in
reality, it turns out to be a cloning experiment that goes awry and we all take
off running for our lives and the "hosts" of the show begin hunting us
down, one-by-one, and because of those dang pictures we took of our stupid
smiling faces that they plastered all over the city we had nowhere to hide! Deep Breath. Awkward smile. SNAP.
"Next!"
The waiting
room looked something similar to an emergency waiting room. In front of us was
a flat screen television broadcasting CBS's daytime television for our
entertainment. But, instead of the vending machines that you would typically
find in a waiting room, we had a craft table consisting of Sara Lee muffins and
bottles of water to keep us satisfied. I wondered, isn't that a conflict of
interest? Don't they want people to bake their own muffins instead of buying
the pre-made and highly processed variety? I suppose I was expecting something
freshly baked from one of Rachael Ray's many recipes. Something we could
actually test and venture to make ourselves. Odd choice. How disappointing.
Just before
being led inside the studio, the audience applause generator, (as I like to
call them) who went by the name of Joey, came into the room announcing himself
with a booming voice, snapping us out of the trance of day time television and
focusing our attention on him. Joey's very job is to do this. His sole purpose
there was to let us know when to clap, how hard to clap, when to
"Oooh" if something is exciting, "Mmm" when we believe
something tastes good and when to laugh at Rachael's silly little jokes, so
she's not alone in her attempt at humor. I remember watching episodes of I Love Lucy with my parents when I was
still very young, before my little brain could understand some of the
humor. I used to sometimes listen for
the giggles of the audience off screen to cue me when to laugh so that I
wouldn't seem so out of the loop with the jokes in front of the adults. Most of
the time I would laugh at genuinely funny moments, but sometimes there was
nothing particularly funny happening but one giggle from an audience member in
the show would cue me to spurt out in laughter and confuse the crap out of my
parents. They would look at me like I was either crazy or in amazement that I
got something that they didn't. In reality, I had no clue. Joey was great at
his job. His energy level was at a 10 for sure, while the rest of us were
hovering between and 7 or 8 in the beginning. However, a couple of minutes later
with Joey and a little extra push, we were reaching a level near 9 before we
were led into the studio in the next space.
The set was
beautiful and very much like Rachael Ray. Everything was bright and dressed in the
typical Fall color scheme and our jewel toned outfits fit the decor perfectly. Nice touch. Although, I did enjoy her retro
kitchen set on 30-Minute Meals more.
When everyone was settled and we saw that no one else was coming in behind us,
many of us began to look around in confusion as to why there was still a gaping
whole beside me, where thirty-one seats remained unclaimed. Do I smell? With some consideration, I
came to the assumption that they were claiming these seats for guests appearing
on the show. While that thought was still roaming around in my head, Rachael
Ray herself, the mistress of ceremonies, popped out from back stage and sat in
a seat right beside me. Oh, snap, Rachael
Ray...is sitting next to me. Bringing her 5'3" self to our level on the
stands, she sat and had a conversation with the audience confirming my
assumption. She explained the gaping hole she was in the middle of and let us
in on the itinerary for the first half of the show. The first set-up was a
fashion sequence where one of Rachael's frequent guests on the show came up
with a bit having to do with mixing and matching seven different outfits to get
thirty-one different looks that could stretch over a thirty-one day month.
Hence the thirty-one open seats in the audience that were reserved for the
models. The outfits consisted of different, generic designs, that anyone could
pick up at a local retail-clothing store, like Target or Walmart, and do the
same mix and match at home. I'm not exactly a fashion guru but the outfits were
not exactly the greatest choices for mixing and matching for a solid month.
However, it was interesting to see the thirty-one variations they could come up
with that were thrown on these very inexperienced, but eager housewives and
Rachael groupies. Joey was on set and had us clapping vigorously for every
model as they stepped out of line to show us their outfit, to the point that
our hands were beginning to get a little raw by the time the next set rolled
around.
The following
guest on the show, let me rephrase that–THE guest star of the show, was
introduced by Rachael as Marcus Samuelsson. Without cable television, I've been
out of the cooking loop for nearly a year now, so Marcus may very well be a
well-known and very established chef on the Food Network, but until today's
show, I had no clue who Marcus Samuelsson was. Apparently, he gained popular
fare for being the chef to cook President Obama's first state dinner in 2009.
His spot on the show was to promote his new book called "Yes, Chef'"
which has just recently been put on the shelves of bookstores nation wide.
Marcus was an energetic, wirery man who had us drooling over a dish of grits
that he spruced up with the season’s latest produce. Joey had us going back and
forth mumbling our "Mm’s" and clapping passionately between the two
cues that we began jumbling the two expressions to the point that half of the
audience was clapping and the other half was "Mming." I think we were
starting to annoy Joey a little bit. It was sudden waving of his hands to stop
and pay attention to him instead of watching the action that was happening with
Rachael that gave it away. Sheesh Joey.
We came here to see Rachael do her thing, not act like sound effects the entire
time. Between commercials he would try to motivate us to keep up with him
by bribing us with prizes. Extra large t-shirts and books you could pick up at
the Family Dollar for a buck. Err, thanks
Joey, I always wanted to read that one.
When Rachael
was through with her guest, it was on to her own thirty-minute meal. Finally. I
haven't been able to watch her shows for nearly a year now, so this was the
moment I had been waiting for. She prepared a simple corn flake crusted, hand
formed turkey burger with fresh herbs and topped it with fresh vegetables on a
lightly toasted bun. Lovely recipe Rachael, if only I ate turkey burgers. Well
done anyway. By this point Erin and I were starving, but the show had yet to go
on and we continued clapping away and "Mming" our hunger to the sound
department while wiped our mouths of drool for the cameras.
By the next
quick set, I could begin to see that Rachael's usually peppy attitude was
beginning to give way to something a little more forbidding. I noticed little
spurts of it earlier in her demeanor, when she seemed to forget she had an
audience. However, when the models were recalled to the set to capture
close-ups for the cameras, Rachael questioned, whom I believe was the assistant
production manager, whether she and her fashion guru needed to go through their
dialogue again or not. Apparently, the assistant production manager's response
was not quick enough or articulated clearly enough for Rachael, because she
pretty much ripped the guy a new one in a very passive aggressive way. It
seemed as though it was a quick response that came from her slowly bubbling
rage, because she appeared to have checked herself when she looked up at the
audience and remembered that she had over a hundred pairs of eyes looking back
at her. Maybe
behind the scenes, this guy was actually the biggest egomaniac who ever worked
for CBS and deserved a little ass ripping, I don't know. I guess I can't really
judge anyone's motives unless I've walked a mile in their shoes, but he didn't
look very full of himself in that moment. In fact, he seemed as though he was
about to cry as he shuffled back across the set and scooted behind the massive
studio camera, putting as much distance from himself and Rachael as possible.
The audience didn't know what to do in that moment. We all just looked at Joey
for guidance, but even he didn't say another word. In fact, he looked just as
awkward as the rest of us. It was like watching a couple fight at the dinner
table in front of you. While you can't really remove yourself from the scene,
you just sit there, feeling awkwardly out of place, bow your head and shovel
food into your mouth just to have something to do with yourself. However, being
a part of the show and possibly caught on camera at any given moment, you can't
be looking around the room and up at the ceiling to avoid the drama on set, you
have to look straight ahead at the scene and smile, even if crookedly, for the
camera while making it look as genuine as possible. Rachael did not seem very
happy after that, although she was probably trying to keep it together. I don't
understand it. Like any other job that you've done for so long and although as
glamorous as it may seem, it will eventually begin to feel like any other job
at some point. She probably comes in, grabs her coffee, goes to a production
meeting, rehearses, blocks, films, films, films, cleans up, goes home with
tomorrows homework in tow and then does it all over again the next day. Some
variation will happen in between, of course, and after a decade of doing this
along with the magazine that she puts out every month, including recipes she
actually takes the time to put together herself, not to mention a husband to
spend time with at home and the other ventures she has going on the side. She's
entitled to get cranky. I get it. However, I've been that guy who she made to
look small once and I'm sure she was in his shoes at one time or another too.
So when the job begins to feel like pulling teeth and it's not fun anymore,
maybe it's time to move on or let something go. That way you're not doing
everything halfway and making yourself and everyone else miserable. She could
probably quit everything now and still have enough residual income to live very
comfortably for the rest of her life. I would certainly miss her quirky little
jokes, her inventive recipes and funny word jumbles, but maybe it's time to
take some advice from good ol' Seinfeld...and quit while you're still on top.
That way you go out with a bang and you're always welcome to come back and do
something else.
After one last little set-up, with a
one-on-one with Rachael and the camera, the show was over and Rachael thanked
her audience for their support. Joey had been bribing us all afternoon with
prizes and a surprise gift to take home with us, so we were all pumped to see
what this surprise was going to be. When we walked out of the studio we were
each gifted with October's issue of "Every Day with Rachael Ray" and
then shuffled out of the building the way we came in. I wasn't expecting Oprah
sized gifts like a week long vacation to Hawaii or a new car, but I was hoping
to at least get a copy of "Yes, Chef,'" since the guest star was on
the show was promoting the book. Geez
Rachael Ray, what gives? Sarah Lee and now this? Meeting any celebrity I've
come to admire, I'm always weary that they'll disappoint me by being cruel or
unfriendly. I've seen enough of that to always have it in the back of my mind
when I work with or meet an A-lister somewhere. However, I always remember that
they're people who have bad days too and I try to give them the benefit of the
doubt. Some of my favorite artists were known to be tyrants. Take Charlie
Chaplin for instance, one of the directors I probably admire more than any
other, spent more time yelling at his crew and firing people on a daily basis
than anyone I've ever heard of. Although, he was also under the immense stress
of casting, directing, writing, producing, acting, editing and composing the
music for nearly every one of his hundred or so films. AND, he raised eleven
children all in that time! Tell me there isn't a fine line between genius and
insanity and I'll give you Charlie Chaplin. So I forgive your cranky ways
Rachael Ray, and I'll enjoy reading my October issue of "Every Day with
Rachael Ray" and continue watching your shows when I can. All is well.
Let's just hope her assistant production manager doesn't hold a grudge. You
never know who he could be some day.
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