Official Book Club Selection Part 3

My typical '80s dance club outfit ... What's the problem?

I wasn't always a wh.o.r.e. There was a time when I was actual y naive about things-like when I first moved to LA-and just barreled through life like it was mine for the taking, without thinking about the consequences.

Most people new to a city on the ocean would probably go to the beach during the day when there are people around. I, on the other hand, decided to try a midnight swim at the somewhat gamy Santa Monica pier, by myself. That is, until a nearby guard kicked me off the beach for my own safety.

Most people unfamiliar with the men in a new town might search for love until they find it. I picked out some guy on my second day in LA, who worked at the local bicycle shop, and handed my virginity to him.

"You can fil a tire? Sounds good to me. Let's cal it a date." Needless to say he wasn't Mr. Right.

Then there are the bal sy moves that pay off. In that first week as a Los Angeleno, I read in the alternative newspaper the LA Weekly LA Weekly - which quickly became my bible about goings-on in town-a review of the latest show at what had become a comedy hotspot, the Groundlings. which quickly became my bible about goings-on in town-a review of the latest show at what had become a comedy hotspot, the Groundlings.

This was a place I'd heard about, something in the vein of the famed Chicago troupe Second City. So I went to the Friday late show, and thought it was fantastic. The group did improvisational songs, sketches that involved the actors in costumes and wigs, and most important, included the crowd in a lot of the skits.

I was sitting by myself in the front row, and got picked for a bit involving audience interaction. I was so excited. I have to get in this I have to get in this group group, I thought. This is where I want to be. This is the greatest thing in This is where I want to be. This is the greatest thing in the world the world.

So at the tender age of nineteen I marched backstage by myself, past everyone's lockers, through the girls' dressing room-I can't believe it now, it was so rude-al the while tel ing myself, "I'm going to just go up to the performer I think is the funniest and ask advice." He was taking off his makeup, and I must have had a deranged determination on my face because he turned to me and said politely, but with that "uh-oh" sound in his voice, "Can I help you?"

"Sorry to bother you, but you're so fantastic. Please, how do I get to do this?" I said.

He was so patient with me. "Wel , there's a school here, and first you have to go through al the levels of the school...." He continued talking as he got up and led me to the director of that night's show, a guy named Tom Maxwel . "Here's a girl who's interested in cla.s.ses," he said, introducing me. I'm tel ing you, he could not have been sweeter.

This guy was the star of the show, and he calmly spent a good ten minutes explaining how the Groundlings worked to this bra.s.sy, boundary-crashing audience member who he could have easily dismissed.

That man's name was Phil Hartman.

Years later-I mean it took me years years to get into the G.o.dd.a.m.n Groundlings-I would do shows alongside the great Phil Hartman. But until then, apparently I had to pay something cal ed "dues." More about this later. to get into the G.o.dd.a.m.n Groundlings-I would do shows alongside the great Phil Hartman. But until then, apparently I had to pay something cal ed "dues." More about this later.

When it came to pestering show folk for career tips, I wasn't the only Griffin looking out for me. I had eager lieutenants in my parents.

Mom and Dad were always starstruck. In the early years of living in Los Angeles, they were unable to stop themselves from pul ing the car over whenever they saw television shows or movies being filmed. The line of trailers was always the tip-off: hair and makeup trailers, wardrobe

trailers, and moveable dressing rooms.

This is a Groundlings photo showing the cast for a particular skit.

That's Lisa Kudrow upper left. I'm the tough guy in the center. (Photo: David Siegle/Courtesy of the Groundlings Theater and School) They would come back home, my mom saying, "We saw the trailers!

We saw the trailers!"

One day my parents returned with complete delight in their voices, because they had happened upon (or stalked) a location for the then smash hit show Hart to Hart Hart to Hart, starring Stefanie Powers and Robert Wagner. My mother told me the story of going up to Stefanie Powers on location in a way that if someone did that to me today, I'd punch them in the face. But mom showed no visible signs of bruising. Apparently Stefanie Powers, the victim in this scenario, was sitting on her director's chair with her name on the back, and my parents saw this action as an invitation to lunch.

My mother went up to gorgeous and talented Stefanie Powers, fawned over her beauty, and told her how much she she loved Bil Holden, too. But most important, Mom asked Stefanie Powers if she had any advice for me, her fledgling starlet daughter. loved Bil Holden, too. But most important, Mom asked Stefanie Powers if she had any advice for me, her fledgling starlet daughter.

Mom: Oh, Stef, you have such beautiful features, and such a DA-A-A-ARLING figure. Do you have any tips for my daughter DA-A-A-ARLING figure. Do you have any tips for my daughter Kathleen? She's got this crazy notion of becoming an actress in Kathleen? She's got this crazy notion of becoming an actress in Hollyweird. Hollyweird.

Stefanie Powers [under her breath]: Security.

Mom: I mean, you've just done so great. With all your TV shows and your movies, and all that and everything else. What advice and your movies, and all that and everything else. What advice can I give Kathleen that she can follow forever? can I give Kathleen that she can follow forever?

Stefanie Powers: Tell her to take everything. Never turn down work. work.

I listened without irony as my mother relayed this encounter, because Stefanie Powers was doing something I wanted to do. She was starring in a TV show. Not only did I not blow this advice off, but I clearly take it to heart to this day. In fact, I take it to heart to heart.

Unfortunately, Stefanie Powers, I didn't have any work to turn down at that point, but I knew I could sign up with a talent agency and work as an extra. It was a c.r.a.ppy job, but I had to start somewhere. This is where the dues-paying comes in, with an a.s.sortment of acclaimed roles as an extra in some of the finest motion pictures of our time. I was a concert audience member in the Diane Lane musical Streets of Fire Streets of Fire . Don't know that one? Here's one reason. D-list fun fact: That was the film that named itself for a Bruce Springsteen song, and then when Springsteen didn't want to give them the rights to it, they stil kept the t.i.tle. Ouch. . Don't know that one? Here's one reason. D-list fun fact: That was the film that named itself for a Bruce Springsteen song, and then when Springsteen didn't want to give them the rights to it, they stil kept the t.i.tle. Ouch.

I also stood outside of Grauman's Chinese Theater for a crowd scene in the horror film Fade to Black Fade to Black, which obviously faded to black upon release. It chaps my a.s.s to this day that no camera got an accidental close-up of the top of my head so some agent could see an aerial shot of my bangs and go, "She's got the stuff! That's our new It girl!"

And when I think about the now-famous-in-my-head shot of me as an alien extra reacting to a s.p.a.ceship landing in that sci-fi gem Battle Battle Beyond the Stars Beyond the Stars, starring Richard Thomas, it's pretty amazing I wasn't singled out for stardom. Movies with aliens became huge after that.

You'd think I would have been in a few Star Trek Star Trek movies by now, or at least on the spin-off series movies by now, or at least on the spin-off series Star Trek: Now Voyager Star Trek: Now Voyager . I could have that t.i.tle wrong. But again, where was the agent saying, "She's got the stuff! . I could have that t.i.tle wrong. But again, where was the agent saying, "She's got the stuff!

That's our new alien It girl!"?

The reality was, as an extra I wanted to absorb anything I could about the television and movie world. I'm surprised I never got fired, because I was always real y obnoxious and always bothering the celebrities (sound familiar?), peppering them with questions: "How did you get started?"

"How do you stay thin?"

"Do you know Stefanie Powers?"

It didn't help that being an extra is humiliating work at times. You're treated like cattle, and the second a.s.sistant director real y keeps you in line. If you take one step out of the holding area you're put in, you get screamed at in front of everybody, and because they don't know your name, they'l just pick on what's least flattering about you.

"You with the ugly yel ow dress!"

"You with the big nose!"

"You with that stupid r.e.t.a.r.ded look on your face!"

It was like high school that way, just brutal. Plus, everyone around you is in the same boat you are, wondering how to get into SAG (Screen Actors Guild). The long-standing catch-22 you always hear is that to get into SAG, you need to be working, but to get work, you need to be in SAG. One day I heard somebody mention something about being "Taft- Hartleyed" into SAG, and I remembered signing something about that when I did that Chicago White Sox commercial. Wel , this person explained that Taft-Hartley was an exemption law that means that if you're an extra in something, but your face is distinguishable, you're considered a princ.i.p.al, which is one of the requirements for SAG eligibility. Bingo! That Sox commercial-where, if you recal , I dazzled the city's television viewers with my quasi close-up-was my ticket al this time and I didn't even know it!

Getting the money to join SAG, though, was another story. At the time it was $1,750, and it wasn't like we were rol ing in it. In order to support myself (while stil living at home), I temped (badly), and bused tables at a diner (because I wasn't even good enough to waitress). I didn't have any extra money lying around. And it wasn't like I had an al owance from my parents. But after I convinced them I needed to do this, they paid the whole thing. That's because my mother the master negotiator-able to scream any utility employee into being reasonable about a bil -worked out a payment plan with SAG. It's al about the payment plan with her.

In addition to helping me gain access to SAG, my parents were smart enough about fiscal responsibility that they figured out a way for me to go to the prestigious Lee Strasberg Theatre and Film Inst.i.tute on a bul s.h.i.t scholarship by way of a loophole in a company that my dad hadn't worked for in thirty years. Genius, huh? So for two years I went ful -time to Lee Strasberg, which was founded by and named after the acting school giant who helped make the Method-a kind of memory-based acting that drew on what was unique about you to bring life to a role-into one of the leading acting disciplines in America. This guy taught Marlon Brando, James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, Al Pacino-al my favorite stars-and now his techniques were going to turn me into a serious f.u.c.king actress. It was dancing, singing, Method cla.s.ses, elocution to get rid of my Chicago accent, the whole nine yards.

When I was there, Rebecca DeMornay had just been in the school, and suddenly she was in movie theaters everywhere getting raves for the movie Risky Business Risky Business. That was mind-blowing to me. I remember I was in a tai chi cla.s.s at Strasberg with Maria Conchita Alonso. She was serious about the movement exercises. I thought they were dumb. Two seconds later, she's starring opposite Robin Wil iams in Moscow on the Moscow on the Hudson Hudson, and I'm in a movie theater watching her going, There's the girl There's the girl I made fun of for being dedicated while I was ditching cla.s.s to eat I made fun of for being dedicated while I was ditching cla.s.s to eat Cheetos across the street at 7Eleven with my girlfriends Cheetos across the street at 7Eleven with my girlfriends.

We were always naked in cla.s.s, too. We did these exercises where you'd have to enact your most private moment onstage. You might get somebody popping their zits, but mostly every guy pretended to jerk off, and for girls, it was stripping down and taking a fake shower.

One of my teachers was Sal y Kirkland, who had been in The Sting The Sting, and would later get an Oscar nomination for a movie cal ed Anna Anna. She was awesome, because not only was she a very good acting teacher, but she would casual y tel us about every famous guy she slept with.

She talked al the time in cla.s.s how she had met, you know what I mean by "met," De Niro, Pacino, al the hot Method guys. But the amazing thing is, she'd get them to come speak at the school! Pacino came in right after he'd made Cruising Cruising. Perhaps to apologize to the gay community. Strasberg would come to the Inst.i.tute, too. We cal ed him Yoda (his looks had a little something to do with it.) The Inst.i.tute was located in Hol ywood, and because I didn't have a car, I had to take the bus from our place in Santa Monica, which took forever, and categorical y sucked. I would jump on the number four bus bright and early in the morning in my unflattering Danskin spandex outfit, and then stay at Strasberg al day til the last cla.s.s ended at 11 p.m., then catch the number four at 11:22 p.m. to Santa Monica and 4th, and walk eight blocks home. That bus was a funky cross-section of LA personalities, too. Everybody from trannies to drooling kids to surfer dudes to weird guys. .h.i.tting on you to the occasional nice person. You got a little bit of everything on the number four. As Denise Richards

would say, it's complicated.

Between dedication to acting cla.s.ses and the transient nature of Los Angeles, it was hard for me to make and keep friends during this period. I'd be real y close to somebody for a year, and then they'd move away. One girl I was friends with got married, became addicted to cocaine, and just seemed to vanish. Another girl in acting cla.s.ses with me also got married, but she became born again, decided she didn't like show business, and moved. I was used to a close neighborhood, like back in Oak Park, and the spread-out quality of Los Angeles was a hard lesson in acclimation those first years.

Me in my first crib. Where was MTV?

I was also pretty lost during that period when it came to guys. I had s.e.x for the first time at nineteen. Okay, I know I waited a good long while, but I've been making up for lost time ever since. I became pretty promiscuous, and not with a whole lot of winners, because as I've always said, my vices are junk food and bad men. I screwed a mil ion real y gross, sleazy guys. Is a mil ion a lot? I'm surprised I was never kil ed. I remember being at Carl's Jr. at La Brea and Santa Monica in Hol ywood late one night, meeting some motorcycle gang member, and just climbing on his bike and leaving with him. I never drank, but I'd go to nightclubs and bars al the time to go dancing, then just go home with a guy and think nothing of it.

One time, a girlfriend and I were in a club-I was probably sporting my mind-blowingly s.e.xy Madonna-inspired crinoline-over-tights look -and she pointed to a pair of guys in the corner. "See those two over there?" she said. "They have matching 280-Zs!" I was like, "No f.u.c.king way!"

They were busboys. And we f.u.c.ked them. That's how low the bar was.

But remember, I never wanted to get married or anything. It's not like I put a lot of thought into where these magical interludes might go. I wasn't exactly looking for love.

Here was my problem: My type was pretty much any guy who said "hi"

to me. That was my type. It's important to have a type. "Creepy" was another one of my types. This one guy Roland was so weird that during s.e.x his voice altered-as if he were a f.u.c.king alien-and he started talking like a baby in a bizarre high-pitched voice. He'd start screaming s.h.i.t like, "I just want to f.u.c.k my baby! I'm your baby! Will you be my "I just want to f.u.c.k my baby! I'm your baby! Will you be my baby? Baby? Baby?" For baby? Baby? Baby?" For one thing, he couldn't decide whether he was the baby or the daddy. Make up your mind, freak. I had to force myself out from under him and flee the apartment undressed, clutching my clothes. one thing, he couldn't decide whether he was the baby or the daddy. Make up your mind, freak. I had to force myself out from under him and flee the apartment undressed, clutching my clothes.

Point of interest: Mr. Baby, or Mr. Daddy, whatever he considered himself, was a donut fryer. I'l be honest, I've probably f.u.c.ked five donut fryers overal . I love donuts. It's my happy place. So this was clearly the action-packed sequel to my after-school eating disorder -The Perfect -The Perfect Storm Storm if you wil -when having no boundaries about food meets Roland the donut-shop fryer giving you free bear claws at three in the morning. I didn't wait to get to his apartment, either. I banged him in the back of the donut shop. He waited til he had me in his apartment, though, to unleash his disturbing goo-goo-gah-gah blathering. Not great. if you wil -when having no boundaries about food meets Roland the donut-shop fryer giving you free bear claws at three in the morning. I didn't wait to get to his apartment, either. I banged him in the back of the donut shop. He waited til he had me in his apartment, though, to unleash his disturbing goo-goo-gah-gah blathering. Not great.

I once told a therapist the fol owing story from my childhood. My older brothers Kenny, who you now know went on to be quite deranged, and Gary thought it would be fun to take turns holding each other outside the upstairs bedroom window upside down by their ankles. It became a tradition, and it happened with my brother John, too. I'm not kidding. We cal ed it being "dangled." I was always whining, "When am I gonna get dangled? dangled? This is This is ridiculous! ridiculous! Just cause I'm a GIRL I can't get Just cause I'm a GIRL I can't get dangled dangled?"

So one day my brother John says, "I'l dangle ya." Yes!

We opened the window, I climbed out, and my brother got me by the ankles. I'l never forget the feeling of being upside down, bouncing against the stucco wal , and giggling. I was having the best time. He'd say, "I'm gonna drop ya!" and I'd yel , "Don't!" Over and over, that was how it would go.

Now imagine that you're walking down a back al ey, looking up, and you see a kid holding another kid upside down by the ankles, outside a second-story window. If YouTube had existed back then, my parents probably would have lost custody of us. Wel , a neighbor final y caught us. He ran to tel our mother, who then bolted upstairs in her muumuu and screamed, "What the CHRIST are you GAHd.a.m.n kids doing?"

John freaked out enough that he let go of one ankle, and I'm just like, "Johnny, cut it out!" But he pul ed me up instantly and everything was fine, except for our being punished, of course. Actual y, I think John got punished, not me, which is a shame because he was a pretty darned good dangler. I think he had to spend an hour in the garage. Or, as my mom cal s it when I asked her about it recently, "Oh, we got after him.

We gave him heck." I feel kinda bad that he got "heck" and al . John, I love you and I forgive you. You're not a d.a.m.ned good dangler. You're the best dangler I've ever had.

So when I told that little nugget of childhood roughhousing to this therapist, she said, "Wel , don't you think that's kind of what you do with the men in your life? You let them dangle you out a window and you don't real y know it's dangerous?"

I'd never made the connection. "So dangling was a bad idea, huh?" I said.

I always thought of it as the equivalent of parents throwing their kids up real y high and catching them in their arms. But there was a big difference. It's not like I was running to Mom and saying, "Wil you get John or Gary to dangle me?" So I knew it probably wasn't right. But that was the problem. I liked being dangled.

Immaturity and low self-esteem also played a part in my less than stel ar relationships with men back then. But I wonder if my att.i.tude toward s.e.x and men also had something to do with how career-driven I was. Was I unconsciously choosing guys who I knew would end up being only interested in sil y affairs that would never lead to anything permanent because I didn't want anything to get in the way of my career track? Like my calculated decision never to touch a drop of drink or get mixed up in drugs, I might have intuited that marriage was another impediment, and that a c.r.a.ppy one-nighter wouldn't deter me from my true love: performing. And since a guy was going to come second, anyway, maybe that led me to men who were clearly never going to be number ones in anybody's book.

It would take me a while, however, to realize that nice guys were better than bad boys. There I was in a crazy situation with a baby-talking donut fryer, and not ever saying to myself, "Um, maybe things aren't working out so wel for me. Maybe I could find someone better."

Instead it was, "Okay, back to acting cla.s.s tomorrow!"

So on the one hand, while I wasn't too concerned about who I slept with back then, I was pretty consumed with my weight and my continued binge eating. Since childhood, I had developed a rigorous cycle of bingeing and starving, with an erratic schedule of compulsive over-exercising on top of that to really really f.u.c.k me up. After a bender of a toxic combination of junk foods, I'd feel so s.h.i.tty the next day that I could barely function: nauseated, unable to fit in pants I'd just worn yesterday, consumed with self-loathing, and unwil ing even to look at food until evening. That would then put me on a cycle of having my first meal of the day at 6 p.m., and my last meal at probably 3 a.m. Real y healthy, Kath, when you have to get up for your temp job in El Segundo at 7:30 a.m. f.u.c.k me up. After a bender of a toxic combination of junk foods, I'd feel so s.h.i.tty the next day that I could barely function: nauseated, unable to fit in pants I'd just worn yesterday, consumed with self-loathing, and unwil ing even to look at food until evening. That would then put me on a cycle of having my first meal of the day at 6 p.m., and my last meal at probably 3 a.m. Real y healthy, Kath, when you have to get up for your temp job in El Segundo at 7:30 a.m.

I could never barf, by the way, although G.o.d knows I desperately wanted to be bulimic. One time I ate a whole pie-not too much pie, cause "too much" implies there's some left, it was an entire f.u.c.king pie -and I went to the bathroom I shared with my parents in our little Santa Monica apartment and tried sticking my finger down my throat like I'd seen drunk girls do after a crazy night at the bar. I had no girlfriends with me to hold my hair back, though. Wel , it was just too disgusting. I couldn't do it. I can honestly say, with complete disappointment, that I have never purged in my life, because I have what I cal a barfing disorder. Every time I puke, even when I'm sick with the flu or from food poisoning, I think I'm going to die. Weird, I know. No disrespect to you, Mary Kate. Rock on.

"Do you have a to-go box?"

But it's certainly not as if starving was a sane alternative. After a bad binge, I might do crazy things I'd read about in so-cal ed women's magazines, like spend al day drinking only water with five lemons squeezed into it. Everything's going to be okay now! Everything's going to be okay now! I'd think, and then of course I'd be starving the next day. The problem is, when al you've al owed yourself are clear soups or elixirs as a corrective, it's not like the craving for pie goes away. My eating habits were so s.h.i.tty that even when I could suspend the cycle and eat okay for a week, I'd never develop a craving for healthy food. I remember once when I realized the healthiest thing I'd had al week was a pint of Haagen-Dazs, because in my mind, it was part of the dairy food group. I'd think, and then of course I'd be starving the next day. The problem is, when al you've al owed yourself are clear soups or elixirs as a corrective, it's not like the craving for pie goes away. My eating habits were so s.h.i.tty that even when I could suspend the cycle and eat okay for a week, I'd never develop a craving for healthy food. I remember once when I realized the healthiest thing I'd had al week was a pint of Haagen-Dazs, because in my mind, it was part of the dairy food group.

Diet pil s never worked, either. They made me lose my appet.i.te for maybe two hours. But I did try speed for three weeks! (I blame Mom, from her wild-eyed amphetamine freak days whilst I was in utero.) And may I say, you don't know how proud I am to have this revelation in a genuine celebrity tel -al memoir. Let the bidding war begin between Tyra, Oprah, and Maury (just to get the price up) for the Kathy Griffin exclusive. I promise to sob on air. I'm crying right now.

A-a-a-nyway, what happened was, a guy I was dating named Phil -okay, I just banged him twice-got a bag of "black beauties" and "speckled eggs" for $40. I don't even know if anybody makes those anymore. I'm pretty sure people jump straight to crystal meth now.

Anyway, my trial period with speed didn't work, either. They were basical y jacked-up diet pil s, and al they did was make me jumpy and irritable for a day, fol owed by me being three times as hungry afterward.

I ended up going to a doctor, who gave it to me straight, albeit in the context of me asking, "Um, I have a ... friend ... who's, um, having trouble with her weight, and might take 'black beauties' and 'speckled eggs.' What would the health implications be?"

She calmly replied, "Tel your ... friend friend ... the reason diet pil s and amphetamines don't work is because al they do is put off your hunger. ... the reason diet pil s and amphetamines don't work is because al they do is put off your hunger.

Your body just stores your fat for a day, and then you wake up the next day twice as hungry. You'l never be able to keep up with the speed."

Al right, al right, so much for speed. It was back to plan B. As I couldn't afford Bal y's Total Fitness and I had a desperate need to over-exercise, I realized I was in luck because the YWCA was much cheaper.

Do you remember a little phenom cal ed step aerobics? If you do, then you know how crazy it was to take two ninety-minute cla.s.ses in a row.

It's incredible that I didn't die from a blunt injury to the back of my head from slipping on my own pool of sweat.

I was much clearer-headed when it came to what was was working for me in my life, and that was my career. After two years of plugging away at acting cla.s.ses, it was pretty obvious that I was never going to be a serious thespian. I knew that the Groundlings were my cal ing, so I started taking cla.s.ses there as I was finishing up at Strasberg. working for me in my life, and that was my career. After two years of plugging away at acting cla.s.ses, it was pretty obvious that I was never going to be a serious thespian. I knew that the Groundlings were my cal ing, so I started taking cla.s.ses there as I was finishing up at Strasberg.

I could immediately tel that what I was learning at the Groundlings would undo everything I learned at Strasberg. For one thing, at the Groundlings I was never naked. Bra, maybe. But not naked. The big difference, though, was that at Strasberg it was about reaching deep down, and at the Groundlings, it was about whatever got a laugh, and if that meant superficial characters, so be it. Fine by me.

I started in the basic cla.s.s, which is just improvisational training. But I was going to the main company's shows al the time to soak it al in, and because the instructors were also cast members, I could see what they were teaching in action. These people were stars in my eyes. The hot names in the group back then were Laraine Newman, from the original cast of Sat.u.r.day Night Live; Sat.u.r.day Night Live; Paul Reubens, who had just left, but who'd become the biggest star in LA since taking his incredible Pee Wee Herman show to the Roxy on Sunset; Ca.s.sandra Peterson, who was Elvira, Mistress of the Dark; and Edie McClurg, who had gone on to do a lot of John Hughes movies. But once I was familiar with al the members, I'd go to something like a Cheech and Chong movie and recognize Groundlings people in smal roles, and get excited about what lay in store, possibly for myself. So being at the Groundlings, I just wanted to hang out as often as I could and get backstage to mingle with the actual troupe members. Paul Reubens, who had just left, but who'd become the biggest star in LA since taking his incredible Pee Wee Herman show to the Roxy on Sunset; Ca.s.sandra Peterson, who was Elvira, Mistress of the Dark; and Edie McClurg, who had gone on to do a lot of John Hughes movies. But once I was familiar with al the members, I'd go to something like a Cheech and Chong movie and recognize Groundlings people in smal roles, and get excited about what lay in store, possibly for myself. So being at the Groundlings, I just wanted to hang out as often as I could and get backstage to mingle with the actual troupe members.

When you reach the intermediate cla.s.s, you start to develop characters. Some people would do composites of types, maybe by imagining, "What if Abraham Lincoln was a punk rocker who worked at the Mal of America?" Or "What if the Heisman Trophy winner was ten years old and had a facial tic?" Or today, it might be, "What if one of those Twilight Twilight freaks could actual y form a sentence at an awards show and didn't have gray skin?" I was better at playing characters that were simply based on people I knew. So my first characters were Mom and Dad. I worked as a bank tel er at the time, so when the exercise was, freaks could actual y form a sentence at an awards show and didn't have gray skin?" I was better at playing characters that were simply based on people I knew. So my first characters were Mom and Dad. I worked as a bank tel er at the time, so when the exercise was, "Play someone you know, but as a different gender," I'd think of al the characteristics unique to my dad-sarcastic wit, eye-rol ing, and

strategic swearing-make him a woman, and put her in a bank. My sister Joyce was another character, a negative preacher of doom and gloom who also loves the Ronettes.

Moving up at the Groundlings was about getting through the levels of cla.s.ses, and then hopeful y making it into the performing groups.

There's the Friday and Sat.u.r.day group featuring the main players, and the Sunday show they'd cal the B company, or farm team. Getting into the Sunday group is one thing, but you needed to get voted into the Friday-Sat.u.r.day gang. It's a real y touchy line they walk with that policy, because it al ows for criteria other than pure talent (i.e., jealousy) to determine who gets in. If you were a main company player, maybe you'd think a real y funny farm-team guy or gal would steal your spot. The trick, therefore, was trying to dazzle the Friday-Sat.u.r.day people, but not threaten them. Sometimes you'd tel them, "If you vote for me, I'l write scenes for you." You'd try anything you could. But ultimately if you were the one getting the most applause, the biggest laughs, they couldn't deny you. That quality trumped everything.

This is from the Groundlings days. That's Mindy Sterling of Austin Austin Powers Powers fame on the right. And apparently I'm fighting the power. fame on the right. And apparently I'm fighting the power.

Powers fame on the right. And apparently I'm fighting the power. fame on the right. And apparently I'm fighting the power.

(Photo: David Siegle/Courtesy of the Groundlings Theater and School) Wel , once I got into the Sunday group, I was parked there a long time, as in two years. The normal run in the Sunday B company is six months to a year before moving on to the Friday-Sat.u.r.day group. But my problem at the Groundlings was I wasn't a chameleon. I was always a variation of myself. The people from my peer group who had a kind of unstoppable popularity and moved quickly to the next company were Jon Lovitz and Mindy Sterling, actors who were great at coming up with a mil ion different faces and voices. Jon originated the liar guy and his Master Thespian bit-characters he made national y famous on Sat.u.r.day Night Live Sat.u.r.day Night Live-back at the Groundlings. Mindy, meanwhile, who went on to play Dr. Evil's fraulein in the Austin Powers movies, had this great rubbery face and pliable voice that she could adapt to any wacky part. Me, I was stuck with this face-okay, former face-and one inescapable voice.

My two strongest characters at the Groundlings then were what I do now in my stand-up act: some version of myself, or my mom. You did wel at the Groundlings if you were the biggest and the broadest. But I would make the stupid mistake of writing a skit for three characters, and I kept casting myself as myself-because usual y it was about something that had happened to me-and then I'd ask Julia Sweeney or Jon Lovitz to play the other larger-than-life, crazy characters I couldn't do. I gave myself the straight person in my own skits. That wasn't the way to get noticed. I didn't know it then, of course, but that whole time what I was doing, being myself, was more appropriate for stand-up.

So while I didn't exactly help myself gain access to the Friday- Sat.u.r.day company, it also didn't help that I had a series of B-company directors who just didn't think I was funny. And if a director doesn't think you're funny, you're not in the show as much, and then how are you going to prove to the main company that you're worthy of admission? If you've watched Sat.u.r.day Night Live Sat.u.r.day Night Live over the years, it's the same thing with that show's reigning monarch, Lorne Michaels. If he doesn't like someone, they're just not in the show, or they're only doing smal parts. over the years, it's the same thing with that show's reigning monarch, Lorne Michaels. If he doesn't like someone, they're just not in the show, or they're only doing smal parts.

In my case, it real y felt like I was part of a blackbal ed clique. I was friends with a guy named George McGrath, who could be a diva, but I thought he was real y funny. Wel , this one director hated hated him. And because I was always trying to do sketches with George, you could say I backed the wrong horse. (George would go on to win an Emmy co-writing him. And because I was always trying to do sketches with George, you could say I backed the wrong horse. (George would go on to win an Emmy co-writing Pee Wee's Playhouse Pee Wee's Playhouse, incidental y, so if anyone deserved to say "Suck it" before me on an Emmy telecast, it was George.) But what that experience real y taught me was that I was just going to have to work harder. I have to be so good I have to be so good, I thought, that this director that this director has has to put my pieces in to put my pieces in. But because no one wanted to work with me, I had to learn to write monologues. After writing and writing and writing -bad pieces, then mediocre ones, then good but not good enough stuff -I final y hit upon my first successful character.

Once when I was back in Chicago, I went to a midnight screening of one of the Rambo movies, those Sylvester Stal one shoot-'em-ups about the crazy Vietnam vet. I was sitting in front of an African-American woman, and she talked to the screen the whole whole time. And it was hysterical, certainly more entertaining than the film. So remembering that moment later at the Groundlings, I started trying to think like that woman. She took that movie so personal y, it was funny. "Ooooooh, Rambo!" she'd yel out. "Looka Rambo time. And it was hysterical, certainly more entertaining than the film. So remembering that moment later at the Groundlings, I started trying to think like that woman. She took that movie so personal y, it was funny. "Ooooooh, Rambo!" she'd yel out. "Looka Rambo cli-i-i-mb- cli-i-i-mb- in' up dat tree like he a n in' up dat tree like he a n animal! animal! Looka Rambo! RAMBO, WHERE YO KNIFE?" Thankful y, we live in a world where one person's intimate exchange with a ludicrous movie character can be another person's ticket to comic notoriety, and when I presented this monologue to the director of the show, he put it in, and it absolutely kil ed. I even got written up in the Looka Rambo! RAMBO, WHERE YO KNIFE?" Thankful y, we live in a world where one person's intimate exchange with a ludicrous movie character can be another person's ticket to comic notoriety, and when I presented this monologue to the director of the show, he put it in, and it absolutely kil ed. I even got written up in the LA LA Weekly Weekly, whose reviews could make or break a Groundlings show.