Darrell Vickers – Ted Zeigler Part 11: B**bs

Andrew and I Write for B**bs

Not every writing assignment Ted netted us during his arduous and high-spirited job trawling expeditions turned into pure gold. We once ended up in a condo in Encino teeming with a heap of people just exploding with excitement over their a once-in-a-generation project. They just needed some writers to help put it over the top. The premise was “Don’t Love.” That was basically it. The creator had come up with and patented a heart with a diagonal line through it. To indicate that he “didn’t love” something – I believe broccoli might have been one of the subjects of his copyright-protected stricken heart. That was it. Now go and conjure us up an award-winning show, fellas!

I think we got paid the same amount as the idea was worth.

Darrell Vickers – Ted Zeigler Part 10: Nicholls and Vickers Set Sale!

Early on in our mutual quest to bring about world peace through comedy, Ted handed down his golden rule for success in The Business. “Suck up to the receptionist.” He would joke with them, send them thank-you notes or flowers and generally spread the butt butter on as thick as possible. They may be the badly treated and criminally overworked trolls of the entertainment industry, but the lowly receptionist is the gateway to talking to the asshole in charge. “Charm the underpaid and disinterested voice on the other end of that line and they’ll push their boss to talk to you.”

Darrell Vickers – Ted Zeigler Part 9: Stories and More from ‘84

At one time, Andrew and I had been minorly represented by Lawrie Rotenberg – an almost legendary Canadian agent. He couldn’t find us work to save his life – but he did once keep us waiting so long outside his office that Andrew’s MG got towed. It required a king’s ransom  to  retrieve his car from a barb-wired vehicle encampment under a freeway overpass – a ransom we did not possess because we were being semi-represented by Lawrie Rotenberg. And so, the only Canadian representation we’ve ever managed to semi-secure actually cost us money.

Darrell Vickers – Ted Zeigler Part 8 – Lights, Camera, Radio!

Andrew and I had found our tiny acorn. A funny-dressed, putty-foreheaded, professional goof who living in a rundown bungalow he bought off Cher’s mother. Eventually, this eccentric acorn would grow to make us two of the most envied writers in Hollywood. But, as today’s story begins, our little seed was hosting a CBC Radio pilot for us for a lousy six hundred bucks.

Darrell Vickers – Ted Zeigler: Part 7 – Boy, I Could Sure Use It!

It was just another, dreary, chaotic, backstabbing, life-sucking day on “Thicke of the Night” when I first espied the one and only Theodore L. Zeigler bounding into view. He was loping down the hallway of the production office in his rainbow suspenders, looking for all the world like a 3-D Robert Crumb cartoon. Little did I suspect that this lanky, eccentrically attired, grey-haired curiosity would one day change my life forever.

Darrell Vickers – Ted Zeigler Part 6: On a Winger and a Prayer

Time waits for no man but it can make your colors more vibrant and your whites even white-ier. Sorry, that’s Tide. I always get those two mixed up. Forget I ever said anything.

A New Beginning:

While our rubber-faced future manager was scattering the unfunny ashes of the Sonny and Cher reunion show over the gritty-to-the-taste waters of the Ganges, Murray had a drastically different, more revolutionary idea about where his glimmering future lay. No longer would he be beholden to “The Man” for his thin, sugar-free slice of the pie. Langston Enterprises would forge its own resplendent destiny and create a veritable Marie Callender’s of fruit-filled crusts for him to feast upon. 

Thusly, our fiscally astute funnyman decided to pour the entirety of his hard, TV-earned cash into a comedy club – a business venture that traditionally has the lifespan of listing fairground goldfish.

Darrell Vickers – Ted Zeigler: Part Five – Cher and Cher Alike

Life has many ups and downs. Ebbs and flows. Yins and Yangs. Windshields and wipers. Lavernes and Shirleys. I think you get where I’m going with this.  

“The Sonny and Cher Show” was a huge hit but Ted’s marriage was not. After a number of shaky years and some very frosty fluffing of pillows, his “Let no man put asunder” had finally collapsed like a Walmart garden shed. The compulsorily bachelored Zeigler suddenly found himself residing in a Hollywood apartment barely big enough to accommodate his chin, while the rest of his family continued to abide with his ex in the most Christian town this side of Nuremburg, Thousand Oaks.

Darrell Vickers – Ted Zeigler Part Four: It’s Always Sonny in California

By 1971, Theodore L. Zeigler’s career was at its zenith. And you could watch him on your Zenith every Sunday night by way of “The Sonny and Cher Show.” The Face that Launched a Thousand Quips quickly graduated from doing spot work on “The Andy Williams Show,” where he was caught committing acts against the laws of hibernation with Cookie Bear, to being a full-time regular on a top ten smash hit. And that’s where he met…

Darrell Vickers – Ted Zeigler Part Three: Hollywood!

By the 1960s-killing-year of 1970, Ted had decided to seek fame and fortune in a place where a vast majority of people with that very same dream end up as drug addicts, prostitutes and off-ramp pre-loved churro vendors. But having streets paved with the shattered souls of generations of the young and hopeful did not make him any less amorous for the glamorous, so he loaded up the truck and he moved to Beverly.

Darrell Vickers – Ted Zeigler Part Two

           

It’s 1959, okay? Cold war across the U.S.A. Our future manager and the rest of the bewildered Zeigler clan had scurried off to Australia, far from the nuclear winter that would soon melt the rest of us into sticky shadows on the sidewalk. This alcoholic penal colony was infested with squads of fussy little men zipping hither and yon in search of houses with television aerials. Apparently, much like Britain, Aussieland had a TV tax and if you didn’t possess the required pricey license to watch “Skippy, the Bush Kangaroo” or “The Flying Doctor”, someone would come a-rappin’ upon your door and damn well demand you purchase one. It’s uncertain whether Theodore ever threw a shrimp onto a barbie during his time “down there” but he did almost lose a number of his domino-sized teeth one bright aft, by puttering out of his driveway and ramming into a car not driving on the “American” side of the road.