Melissa Explains It All: Tales From My Abnormally Normal Life (31 page)

Since
Melissa & Joey
is higher up when you channel surf, some people who stop me now remember me as a twinkle in the eye of their youth. They might remember
Clarissa
for the clothes or
Sabrina
for the special effects, but that could be the extent of it. As a result, people approach me tentatively. Almost every day someone will say to me, “Do you know who you look like?” This is the worst possible question someone could ask a celebrity. For years I played along and answered, “No, who?” only to hear “That girl on the witch show!” There really is no reply for this. My choices are limited to sounding like a pompous jackass by saying, “I think you mean
Sabrina,
and yeah, I did play her. Would you like my autograph?” Or I could give a relaxed “Oh, thanks” and walk away. I usually go with the latter since that lets me get on with running errands or corralling my boys to the car. Any time I’ve made the mistake of definitively announcing, “That’s me!” the conversation plays out like a Three Stooges sketch.

“No way…” they’ll say.

“Okay, I’m not,” I’ll tell them.

“Wait, are you?”

“Yes!”

“No way.”

“Okay, I have to run…”

“Prove it. Show me your ID.”

I laugh about this, but it’s less amusing when I’m balancing an armful of mail and the kids are fleeing the post office without me. So mostly I say, “I get that all the time,” which covers all the bases and gives no real answer. If I’m feeling tipsy during a girls’ night out and a guy asks, “Are you Melissa Joan Hart?” I’ll have some fun with him and say, “Are you buying?” Or I’ll tell him I’m Sarah Michelle Gellar, which usually gets me two drinks.

One of my favorite misidentifications happened in an airport when my sister Trisha and I were traveling together. We were waiting to board at the gate when we overheard a group of teenage boys arguing about whether Sabrina was in their midst. As one of the boys was pushed toward us, Trisha and I sighed about what might happen next. When the guy came over, he knelt down by Trisha’s chair and quietly asked, “Are you that Sabrina girl?” My sister’s vinegary tongue shot him a
no
, and the boy went back to his friends. “I told you it wasn’t her!” he shouted. Trisha and I just looked at each other and cracked up. The boy didn’t even look at me.

I’ve wondered what might happen to my career if I tried to get recognized by causing a hullabaloo in the press. Would I land sexier movie roles? Get comped courtside seats at a Lakers game? Look what happened when Kim Kardashian “got caught” making a sex tape; she’s the highest-paid reality star on TV. Or when Charlie Sheen went berserk and mouthed off to his boss and network head; he became a Twitter phenom with a Comedy Central roast and a new show. Sometimes I think about checking myself into rehab for exhaustion just to see what happens. I could use a nap …

I got a little excited when I thought life handed me the opportunity to make a scene once as I was going through security at LAX. I was shooting the second season of
Melissa & Joey
but headed home for Valentine’s Day weekend, and my gift to Mark was a sex toy I’d bought at the Pleasure Chest in West Hollywood. It was a tiny pink silicone butterfly. The woman in the store said that when the battery-operated antennae and wings vibrated, it … well … use your imagination. I only packed a carry-on bag, and though I thought the bullet shape might raise some red flags with the TSA officials if they saw it, I wasn’t too concerned. If things got hairy, I could tell them it was a bath toy for my kids.

A young security guy, no older than twenty-five, took one look at my bag going slo-mo through the X-ray monitor and asked if he could search it. I watched him root through my personal belongings. He pulled out my sweater, then my toothbrush, and finally the small black satin sack that I thought would somehow shield my magic butterfly from prying eyes. Before he could ask me what it was, I nearly fed him his line with a spoon.

“Is that what set it off?” I asked.

“No, why? What is it?”

I blushed as crimson as one of Mark’s Alabama T-shirts. What would Lindsay do?

“It’s my vibrator!” I told him, maybe a little too loudly.

I decided to own it, rather than make a scene. I wasn’t wearing lipstick or fake lashes, and I didn’t want my only Radar Online scandal to be about a frazzled-looking mug shot. I looked the TSA guy square in the eyes, as if to proudly say,
You bet that’s my vibrator. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take that puppy home and have mind-blowing sex with my rock star husband.

The man dropped the black bag as if it were a hot potato and explained that it was not my vibrator that had caused a buzz but actually a box of business cards buried under my pajamas.
Womp womp
. If I’d played this right, the interaction could have ended up on TMZ or in the
New York Post.
It might have revamped my Pollyanna image, led to an offbeat new sitcom, and then, Mario Batali openings, here I come. But the man didn’t even try to make a quick buck by telling this story to
The National Enquirer.
I’d like to think he was a closet
Sabrina
fan trying to protect me from the ruthless tabloids, but I suspect he just didn’t care enough to call the reporters.

My own kids barely demonstrate an interest in what I do or who I am, besides being their mother—and yes, I know this is supposed to be a good thing. But I’ve shown them episodes of
Sabrina,
coaxing them to watch by offering up magic and a talking cat, and they only lasted six minutes and never turned it on again. Mason did pick up a line he found funny—“Mr. Pool is so annoying”—but it stopped being cute after the 135th time he said it. I try not to take it personally since the boys see their friends and plenty of non-actors making iPhone videos and posting them on YouTube the way I used to put stickers in a book. And I know they know what I do, because when we were walking down the beach in Lake Tahoe, a couple stopped me to say, “You know you look just like Sabrina?” I didn’t want to pause for an awkward song-and-dance, so I said, “I hear it every day.” A moment later, they whispered, “She does look like Melissa Joan Hart.” That’s when Mason surprised us all. “She
is
Melissa Joan Hart!” he shouted. I’d never used my professional name in front of him, and I thought he assumed that we all shared Mark’s last name.

The next spring, Mason graduated kindergarten and had just learned about what it meant to pursue a dream. He told me I was lucky to live mine of being an actor. I thought this was sweet, but confessed that at his age, my fantasy was to become a trapeze artist. I wanted Mason to learn that dreams change, and it’s okay to change with them. Since then, he’s randomly surprised me with questions like, “Mommy, what’s it like to be you?” I was tempted to tell him how it felt to be stressed by a demanding job, scrutinized by the press, and deemed a failure in the kitchen. But I didn’t. “I feel very loved,” I said and then kissed him and his brothers. I was talking about being a mom.

Truth be told, I’ve worked my whole life in the entertainment world, but it was never about being famous. I simply want to leave behind a legacy, if just for my family to talk about when I’m gone. Otherwise, I’m happy wearing lots of hats. I get to be a celebrity and everyday Jane, working woman and busy mom, cosmopolitan gal and suburbanite, wife and friend. Here’s hoping my best attempts to juggle workouts, picnics, script readings, Bible studies, press opportunities, baseball practice, movie premieres, and Saturday football games gives me and my family the balance we need to thrive. I obviously like when people know my name and recognize my face, but I’m just as happy being known as a PTA mom with clever fund-raising ideas.

When Mark’s on the computer, the kids are in bed, and I’m left alone with my thoughts and a bowl of Pop Chips, I realize how grateful I am for the attention I get when I tell a funny story or throw over-the-top parties. I don’t need to strut down a red carpet with flashbulbs popping in my face only to hear Joan Rivers tear apart a dress that once made me feel so special. I’d much rather host a bake sale and ignore those who think you have to be messed up to succeed in this world. To them I say, have a cookie.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

There are some very special people that I need to thank for guiding my life, my values, my career, and this book.

To Mark: I could not have dreamed up a better partner for life. You are all that I could want and more than I ever knew was possible. Mason, Brady, and Tuck, you are my little angels! I treasure each of you more than you will ever know.

To my mother, Paula, who has shaped the person I have become and always stood by my side. My father, Billy, who may not have been around as much as we both would’ve liked when I was young, but who has become a great friend. Trisha, my best friend from the beginning and throughout this life—my “frozen” twin! Liz, who is always full of surprises and has given our family two beautiful boys, Chris and Jonny, who bring joy to all our lives. Brian, my favorite brother! I am so proud of the man you have become. Emily, my sweet and sassy baby sis who likes to keep things interesting. You have a special place in my Hart. Ali, Sammy, and Mackenzie—I’ve taken great pride in watching you grow into women. My family-in-love, Jen, Walt, Sally, Holly, Girod, Hayes, and Pierson. Thank you for opening your arms to me and being a source of love in my life. Aunt Susan and Uncle Mark, I miss the joy you both brought to my life. Nanny and Papa, who gave me the travel bug and taught me so much—from how to juice an orange to the proper gift-wrapping technique. I will never forget you, and I will always make sure there is French silk pie at holiday meals. Grandma Hart, while I didn’t get to know you very well, you are a big part of my strength. I promise to always represent our family in the best way possible.

To my dear friend Spizz, I have never missed anyone the way I miss having you in my life. Just being near you made me feel at home, safe, and always kept me laughing. “I have everything!!!”

Thank you to my sweet, dear, and forever friends: Elena and Kellie, who are always there with sensible advice to help me pick a direction when the road forks. Kimi, Eryn, Kerry, Nicole, and Jessie, who have helped make my laugh lines a little deeper. Soleil, for leading me down many great paths and being such a big part of my life through our twenties. Michele, you have been like the big sister I could only dream of having, from your weekly check-ins to taking my kids for sleepovers when I need a break—you are a treasure. Thank you to you and David for always looking out for me and being the best role models a girl could ask for. To my cult jammers Amie, Line, Marlo, Mackenzie, Lisa, and Lisa, who all suffered through lunches and workouts without me as I whittled away at this book.

To Kristina Grish, for all your hard work and endless hours to make this book a success. From cookies to Deuteronomy, and all the conversations in between, thank you! To my lit agents, Alyssa Reuben and Laura Nolan, for helping make this project a reality and making great use of my time during my third pregnancy. And to my editor, Michelle Richter, and the St. Martin’s Press PR team, for believing in this book from the start and guiding me along the way.

To team MJH: My former agent/current lawyer, David Tenzer, for two decades of fighting on my behalf. My agents, Chris Schmidt, Jim Dempsey, Kathleen Trinh, Debbee Klein, and everyone at Paradigm, for guiding my career. My manager, Gordon Gilbertson, I look forward to a busy future. To Evan Bell, Liza Deleon, Melissa Pagano, and everyone at Bell and Company, for protecting my investments and steering me away from bad decisions. To my publicist, Marla Farrell, for helping me learn how to say no when appropriate.

I also want to thank the most inspiring people in this industry who I have had the pleasure of knowing: Garry Marshall, Delia and Nora Ephron, Bill Murray, Michael Strahan, Gary Sinise, Calista Flockhart, Connie Britton, Paul Lee, Nicky Weinstock, Gerry Labourne, Herb Scannell, Paul Mason, Perry Simon, and a small handful of others. Your talent is immeasurable and your kindness radiates. Also, Mrs. Shirley Temple Black, you inspired my life from a very young age, and I thank you for being a role model that a little girl could proudly look up to.

Thank you also to the teachers who helped shape my life and my passions—especially Mrs. Tresham, Mr. Demas, Chuck Yeager, Roz Secor, and Miss Diane.

Thank you to every lovely person I have had the good fortune to work beside. I’m grateful for your support, compassion, creativity, guidance, and mostly the fact that you laugh at my silly jokes.

To all my fans who have grown up with me and stood by me during my many career phases, I thank you for giving me a platform, a voice, and a bright future.

And finally, I would like to thank God our Father for all the blessings and guidance He’s given me in my life.

After putting together the pieces of my life in this book, I realize that there is one running theme: I’ve always chosen to surround myself with good people—strong, honest, and beautiful souls. Thank you to every one of you who has helped shape a piece of my life, be it small or large, good or bad, then or now. Thank you for the journey.

INDEX

The index that appeared in the print version of this title does not match the pages in your e-book. Please use the search function on your e-reading device to search for terms of interest. For your reference, the terms that appear in the print index are listed below.

ABC Afternoon Special

ABC Weekend Special

Abdul, Paula

About a Boy

Adventures of Con Sawyer and Hucklemary Finn, The

air travel

Alabama Crimson Tide

Alba, Jessica

Allan (Broadway singer)