Shirley, I Jest!: A Storied Life (16 page)

Penny shouting back over her shoulder, “We’re looking for Dylan.”

“Did she say they’re looking for Dylan?” I asked Kathleen.

“I think so,” she said.

At that moment, someone stepped between us. It was John. He put his arms around us and friendly as can be, said, “Girls, let me take you to the
real
backstage.”

“This isn’t it?” I asked.

“No,” he replied. “Follow me.”

Kathleen and I dutifully followed John through a maze of people, down a hallway, and through another door until we were in some sort of inner sanctum with dim but beautiful lighting.

“Wait here,” John said. “I’ll come and get you and take you in to meet Bruce.”

All of these rooms reminded me of a set of nesting boxes that you keep opening one after another, each time finding a smaller box inside the other until, in the final tiny box, a gift is waiting for you. In this case the gift was Bruce Springsteen!

Kathleen and I were thrilled that we were the first ones here. We were actually giggling with delight. Then suddenly out of nowhere Kathleen blurted out, “Oh my God!”

“What?” I asked.

She was looking over my shoulder. I turned and standing there smiling at us was Bob Dylan. Kathleen became lightheaded from the sight of “The Bard” and stumbled back into a chair where she sat trying to regain her composure.

“Hi!” he said.

“Hi,” I said. It seemed like the entire Mesozoic Age was passing by. I couldn’t think of anything to say. And anyway, how do you strike up a conversation with Bob Dylan? There was nothing clever, wise, thought-provoking, no alliteration, poetic phrase, gushing compliment, insight, observation, personal note, or quip I could possibly come up with that hadn’t already been said to this wondrous human being. And then I had it: It came to me like Haley’s Comet, bright and glorious, profound and inspired. I uttered these words: “Did you have good seats?”

Bob Dylan answered, “Yes, I did.”

My goodness he was charming, handsome, smiling. I couldn’t remember if he was married or not, because at that moment, I
so
wanted to date him and date him bad! Just then, John came in and said, “Bob.” Bob nodded, said good-bye to me and disappeared down a hall and into what I imagined was Bruce Springsteen’s dressing room. I looked over to see Kathleen struggling like a turtle on its back trying to get up. I offered her my hand and I was just about to say, “Bob Dylan, Kathleen! You just missed Bob Dylan!” when she once again, gazing behind me said, “Oh my God!”

I turned to see Stevie Nicks standing in the exact same place where Bob Dylan had been. I let go of Kathleen and before I could utter a syllable, Stevie gestured to me and said, “Oh hi! It’s you. I love Boo Boo Kitty!”

Poetic
and
appropriate, I thought. Then Stevie started talking to me as though we were old high school friends. Because of her music and lyrics, I certainly felt like we were friends; like I knew her well. Kathleen had managed to rise and say hi. Stevie said hi and then asked us who else was here. I told her Bob Dylan had just gone into Bruce’s dressing room. She seemed as excited as me and the faintish Kathleen!

“Cindy, Kathleen!” John said, beckoning us. Saying good-bye to Stevie Nicks, we once again followed John. At that moment, Penny and Carrie rushed into the room. The thought crossed my mind to tell them that they had just missed Bob Dylan, but I didn’t want to burst their bubble. Following John like the Pied Piper, Kathleen and I found ourselves standing in front of “The Boss.” Again, an extraordinarily talented human being who was friendly and gracious to us.

From the very first time I’d seen Bruce Springsteen perform, I couldn’t take my eyes off his boots. They always seemed to be an important extension of his performance. He was wearing them tonight. And so I said, “I noticed you wear those boots a lot.”

He looked at them, and then looked up and said thoughtfully, “Yeah, I like these boots.”

I knew it, I just knew it! Those boots had a story.

In the car on the way home Kathleen and I discussed the boots. She said, “I think they’re just boots, Cindy.”

“Oh no, Kathleen, I think they are much more than just boots.”

I dropped her off, making sure she got into her house safely. As I drove the rest of the way home it came to me. I should have told Bob Dylan how my father had called me into his room that day to tell me how much he liked “this singer” on TV. And how we spent those last few minutes together listening to him sing “Mr. Tambourine Man.”

I think Bob Dylan would have liked that and considered it a true compliment.

Epilogue

Father of the Bride

Very early one morning when my son, Zak, was three years old, he woke me up. He couldn’t sleep; he wanted to play. I took him downstairs into the den where his toys were, and while he sat on the floor playing, I turned on the TV. I was channel surfing when Spencer Tracy’s face popped up on the screen. I stopped. I recognized the movie immediately. It was
Father of the Bride
. I had watched it so many times as a kid and I loved it. I settled in to watch it again. It was one of those movies that had everything—great story, great characters, and a great cast. It brought you in, made you a part of this family that had its foibles, flaws, poignancy, and great sense of humor.

I started thinking, this is totally relatable! It has something for everyone. A beloved daughter who’s about to become a bride, two sons who respect their parents, a loving wife and mother who is exasperated with her husband, a doting husband and father who is a bit of a curmudgeon (as well as a penny-pincher).

As I watched the movie, and my little guy playing happily, the thought hit me!
Father of the Bride
would be a great updated remake! Another thought hit me; starring Jack Nicholson in the role of George Banks. I could see it as
plain
as day, and plain as day—it was destined to become a
hit
!

I remembered I’d read in
Variety
a week earlier that Ted Turner had acquired the MGM library of movies, and I knew just how formidable an acquisition that was. I must have seen every single film that was now in Ted Turner’s possession and they were all iconic.

The next day I had the opportunity to pitch my idea to Carol Baum at Sand Dollar Productions, Sandy Gallen and Dolly Parton’s company. I was meeting with Carol about an entirely different project they were producing. They were interested in me for one of the lead parts. Midway through the meeting I spoke up and told Carol that I didn’t feel I was right for the part and before she could say anything I said, “May I ask you for your professional opinion about something else? What would you think about an updated remake of
Father of the Bride
starring Jack Nicholson?”

To her credit, Carol quickly replied, “Can I run with it?”

“Yes,” I said, “as long as you keep me in the loop.”

She promised. And we were off to the races! Over the next month I exchanged many phone calls with Ted Turner’s company helping to acquire the rights from them. I must say they were some of the most courteous people I’ve ever encountered and with a little more back-and-forth, we prevailed and obtained the rights. Now it was time to find a studio to produce. It came in the form of Disney who hired Charles Shyer and Nancy Meyer, a husband-and-wife writing team, to rewrite an earlier version of the script. The script was sent to Jack Nicholson, but eventually Jack had to pass on it. Steve Martin ended up playing the role of George Banks and became everyone’s favorite frugal father. And my hunch was right! It was a huge across-the-board hit! Thanks to Charles and Nancy’s writing, Charles’s direction, and an incredible cast that included Diane Keaton, the movie turned out better than I could have ever dreamed. It made millions of people delighted and happy. I was so proud in so many different ways. Thank you, Zak, for wanting to play early that morning!

Curtain

Oh! And by the way, when I
did
step out on stage with Gene Kelly to sing “You Wonderful You” at the Pasadena Playhouse, I hit every note. Gene was right, we sounded great together. It was a terrific duet and, aside from the fact that once again I was standing on his foot, perfect.

Acknowledgments

There are people I would like to thank who have supported me throughout the writing of this book. And to all these people I give my deep appreciation and heartfelt thanks.

My cowriter and friend, Dave Smitherman, who encouraged me for so many years and kept me calm through many storms. I would have never been able to do it without you, truly.

My tenacious literary agent, Diane Nine, who wouldn’t take no for an answer. My manager extraordinaire, Arlene Forster, who always sees the glass half full even when it’s empty. Jimm DiMaggio, who always had my back and typed a million words a minute with no mistakes. CBS and Lorra-Lea Bartlett, for helping me so much with the pictures, especially the cover photo. I’ll get you those cupcakes, I promise. Universal, Roni Lubliner, and Diedre Thieman, for being so professional and kind. To Lynne, my BFF who can always talk me down out of the coconut tree. To Edna, for making me laugh when times were tough for both of us. To Lorie, for a treasure of high school camaraderie. And a great big kiss to my darling Ed Begley Jr. To Fred Roos, you were the beginning of it all and I will always adore you. And to Brian, for staying up later than all of us.

Thanks to Suzanne Somers for being a good sport and reminding me of great stories, and Ron Howard, my great acting partner. To Henry Winkler for always having a kind word and Harrison Ford for his quick wit.

To Emily and Zak who kept saying “don’t worry, everything’s going to be all right.”

And of course to Garry and Penny, whom I have always loved creating with. “Let’s get together and do it again sometime.”

Learn more at
www.ThisIsCindyWilliams.com
.