There’s No Damn Business Like Show Business!
- andreasachs1
- 6 hours ago
- 5 min read
By Lydia Hope Wilen / New York City
Introducing the Wilen Sisters
My sister Joany and I were collaborators, co-authors and popular TV show guests because we had unique (doctor-approved) home remedies that really worked. We would demonstrate the remedies, using the hosts of the shows as willing guinea pigs. The quick-witted hosts would come up with funny responses.
Hands-On Jon
Way before The Daily Show, there was The Jon Stewart Show. In April 1995, Joany and I were guests on the show. Here are just a few examples of Jon’s ad libs based on our remedies:
To relieve stress, we had Jon put clothespins on the tips of his fingers. Exerting pressure on nerve endings is known to relax one’s entire nervous system. Jon said, while flailing his clothespin fingers, “You know what would be stressful?: Trying to tie my shoelaces.”
To relieve a headache, we put lemon peel on Jon’s forehead and kept it in place with an ace bandage. He announced, “I look like I was in a Civil War re-enactment.”
When we talked about a remedy for clearing one’s sinuses, we gave Jon two thin strips of orange peel. He started to put one strip in one nostril and before he could put the other strip in the other nostril, we stopped him and told him that he has to put both strips in one nostril. Jon got a little crazy-funny. “Is this a crack about my nose?” Picking up an orange from the counter, he said, “Why don’t you put the whole orange up there, Jew boy?”
He eventually put both of the orange peel strips up one of his nostrils.
He played off of us, and it was a riot. In fact, he talked to us about coming on his show on a regular basis.
What show? His show was cancelled the following week.
Howie: Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
In April 1999, on the last stop of a media tour, Joany and I were booked on The Howie Mandel Show. As you may know, Howie, comedian, TV judge and game show host, was and still is a germophobe. We thought we were screwed. We'd have to demonstrate our remedies on one another. But n-o-o-o-o. Howie was a willing subject.
Remember the old clothespin-on-the-fingertips remedy to relieve stress? We did that one with Howie too. His ad lib was, “If people are tuning in now, they’ll think I was in a terrible laundry accident.”
We also used a clothespin on his ear to help relieve a stress headache. He said, “It’s not that the headache goes away, it’s that your ear is killing you so much, you forget about the headache.”
We explained that the U.S. Army tested honeycomb to help desensitize people who suffer from hay fever. The results were encouraging enough to try it out on Howie. We took a one-inch square of honeycomb and fed it to him . We kept repeating that he should swallow the honey, not the wax. Once he swallowed all of the honey, he should just chew the wax for a few minutes. We kept emphasizing, “Don’t swallow the wax!” Finally, Howie said, “If I swallow the wax, put a wick up my rear end and… He censored himself before saying “And come on baby light my fire!”
Once our segment ended and we stopped laughing, Howie said he wanted to make arrangements for us to come back, also on a regular basis. By the time we got back to New York City, Howie’s show had been cancelled.
Saturday Night Strive
Last year was Saturday Night Live 50: The Anniversary Special. Amazing! Fifty years on the air and not one skit ending with an actual punchline. Do I sound bitter? No. Just truthful. Last year was also my anniversary of sorts. While SNL creator and executive producer Lorne Michaels was staffing the show, I had an interview with him. I brought several skits and bits that I thought were funny. Mind you, the show wasn’t on the air yet, so I had no idea of Mr. Michaels’ comedic taste.
I showed up for the interview looking like the good girl that I was. I wore a smart, stylish Loehmann’s outfit. You know, the kind with the labels cut out so that no one knew that the outfit was selling for a fraction of the designer’s price.
And, ready for this? I wore white gloves. That’s how young ladies accessorized 50 years ago. The interview didn’t go well. I clearly wasn’t a fit for what he had in mind. Even so, I left my envelope of material for Lorne and left forlorn.
Shortly thereafter, I received a very funny letter from the boss himself. If you don’t have time to read it, I’ll sum it up for you: SNL = Sorry, Not Lydia.
Who’s Your Daddy?
When I completed my first screenplay, I fantasized about Mike Nichols, award-winning comedian, film and Broadway director, directing it. Why not start at the top? Oh, you need an agent? I didn’t have one, but I did have Mike Nichols’ office address. So, I came up with what I thought was a charming and clever idea that would get his attention. The script had a maroon cover that held the pages together with brass brads. I bought a pastel-pink baby blanket (it looked great with maroon) and a nicely woven basket. I wrapped my script in the blanket – baby bunting style – and placed it in the basket along with a note that said:
Dear Mike Nichols, I can no longer provide the life this screenplay deserves, so I leave it here, swaddled at your creative doorstep, praying you take it in and raise it into the film it was meant to be. With trembling hands and boundless hope, Lydia
I placed my baby on the doorstep of his Beresford office entrance on W. 81st Street and Central Park West, rang the bell and ran down the block. By the time I had the nerve to walk back to the entrance, the basket was gone.
A few days later, while fantasizing what I would wear to the premier, and what my acceptance speech would be at the Academy Awards, I received an ominous-looking, unfriendly manila envelope in the mail. It was my script –no blanket, no basket–but with a letter from Mike Nichols.
True, I didn’t get a job at SNL and Mike Nichols didn’t direct my screenplay, but I had the last laugh. I got several hundred dollars (minus the cost of the blanket and basket) from Ray Regan, an autograph dealer/collector/maven, (https://www.vintagehollywoodautographs.com/) for those two signed letters. Now where did I put that letter from Steven Spielberg?
Lydia Hope Wilen began her professional career as a comedy writer on Personality, a celebrity-driven game show. Her greatest gig was her extremely successful collaboration with her late sister Joany as nonfiction bestselling authors (18 books), which led to the sisters becoming popular TV personalities. They continued as journalists (NY Daily News Sunday full-page feature, Celebrity Surveys for Cosmopolitan Magazine, cover stories for Parade Magazine) and got the opportunity to write and talent coordinate a Nickelodeon series hosted by Leonard Nimoy. The Wilens had an unusually versatile writing range from Reading Rainbow episodes, to off-color comedy skits for Dr. Ruth Westheimer’s TV show, Sexually Speaking, plus three optioned screenplays. And that's just for starters . . .
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