#18 The Long Ride

As Andy Heyward weaved his Range Rover through snarled traffic on Fairfax Avenue, it occurred to me this was the first time in my young career as a television writer that I was in over my head. Me, who never blinked as he was trained in the Air Force to be lowered out of helicopters to pick up downed pilots. Me, who smiled and warmly shook hands with Mario Puzo and chatted about how much I enjoyed his The Godfather when I met him at G.P. Putnam’s Sons offices, my own novel six months away from its pub date. Me, who calmly turned to Frank Sinatra, our tables side by side at Michele’s at the Colony Surf in Honolulu, to tell Old Blue Eyes how much I’d enjoyed his concert a few months earlier in Chicago.

This was different. I’d only written two scripts for The Littles. Heck, I’d only written two scripts for TV! What was I doing going to CBS to meet with Judy Price?!

I glanced at Andy on his car phone as he stopped at Melrose Avenue. He moved his hand over the phone and said, “You’ll be fine.” The light turned to green, and he started driving, adding, “Just try to sound intelligent.”

I wasn’t quite sure how to take that. Instead, I asked, “Who are you on the phone with?”

When he answered, “Jean” and I sighed and said, “Great…” Ahead I could see CBS Television City sprawled across twenty-five acres of prime L.A. real estate. “Just great,” I repeated under my breath.

#17 “Be careful what you wish for…”

I was reeling. Andy had invoked the name of one of the children’s entertainment industry’s trinity – Judy Price, Phyllis Tucker Vinson and SQuire Rushnell, the VPs of Children’s Entertainment at CBS, ABC and NBC.

History is replete with famous trios. Baseball’s all-time greatest double-play combination: Tinker to Evers to Chance. The greatest forward three in basketball: Bird, Parish and McHale. Everyone’s favorite heroic trifecta: Luke, Leia and Han Solo.

For those who labored in children’s television during The Golden Age of Television Animation, the highest of the high were Judy Price, Phyliss Tucker Vinson and SQuire Rushnell. And I hear you: “Why did SQuire Rushnell use a capital ‘Q’ in his name. Well, it‘s a cute story, so I’ll take a few seconds to tell it.

During his two decades at ABC, SQuire signed personal notes to friends as ‘SQ’. His daughter, Hillary, filling in one summer for SQuire’s vacationing secretary, noted his signing some letters ‘SQ’. Feeling she’d hit on something, she suggested he incorporate the SQ into all his letters, thereby branding himself. A devoted father, SQuire told his daughter, “Whatever you want, honey.” And a logo was born…

But back to the trinity. During The Golden Age of Television Animation, cable TV was in its infancy. ABC, NBC and CBS controlled everything from dramas, comedies and movies-of-the-week to the news and, of course, children’s entertainment. Sure, children’s shows aired weekday mornings and after school on syndicated TV. But major animated shows ran on Saturday mornings on ABC, NBC and CBS.

As the VPs of Children’s Entertainment, Judy Price, Phyllis Tucker Vinson

and SQuire Rushnell wielded enormous power. They decided what shows kids would watch, what studios would produce them and what writers would write them.

And now Judy Price, Queen of CBS Children’s Entertainment, wanted to meet me.

#16 An Invitation to Mt. Olympus

From the moment I had the cajones to ask how he managed to acquire so many pairs of eyeglasses that he could match the colors to his ties, my relationship with Andy Heyward changed. I certainly wasn’t some huge 747 looming on his radar, but I’d at least become a blip; he was at least aware of me.

Andy was looking at me differently, making eye contact, measuring, always measuring and at the same time holding his cards close to his chest. I didn’t want to ever get into a poker game with him.

I knew he hadn’t asked me to his office to chat about my scripts for The Littles. As is often the case with powerful executives, he was cordial because he wanted something. My knowing that, I felt, gave me a microscopic edge. I exhaled for what felt like the first time since I’d come into his office. I leaned back in my chair and forced myself to relax. Andy smiled a thin smile, four steps ahead of me, knowing exactly what I was thinking, interested to see how I’d react to what he was about to say, planning how we’d strategize together about the news he would deliver and, I’d like to believe, gaining a tiny bit of respect for me because of my newfound relaxed manner. I think my stock went up a few points in those seconds.

But my “newfound relaxed manner” was about to go out the window. As abruptly as I had blurted my question about where he got all his eyeglasses, Andy said, "Judy Price wants to meet you."

He might just as well have said the Pope wanted to meet me!