Late Night Goes Tabloid

In the fall of 1986, I had one of my first brushes with greatness. I was in the midst of a disastrous first (and only) semester at Rice University, and while I could barely tell you the building in which my 8 a.m. calculus class was held, I had an encyclopedic knowledge of David Letterman and his late-night show, back then still on NBC.

I knew, for instance, that when Dave read viewer mail during that weekly segment, preference was given to missives written on college-themed stationery. Thus, I cadged a sheet of Rice U. stationery and sent Dave a letter asking what sort of courses I needed to take to be able to plan and design such wonders of engineering as the Late-Night Thrillcam and the Dancing Waters, then mainstays of Dave's stage presentation. Much to my amazement, a month later my letter appeared on the show, followed by a short skit in which various show staff members gave their educational backgrounds. I could have died happy right then and there.

Life went on for me, departing college and heading off on the bizarre adventure that landed me after many years here on your screen. Dave had his own long, strange trip, leaving NBC for CBS and continuing to be the most creative, entertaining and affable star in the late-night firmament. To me, his was always the thinking-person's show, with writers that kept the funny without appealing to the lowest common denominator.

His interviews were unlike anyone else's on TV. He could be prickly and confrontational. He could be a star's best friend. And, frequently, he'd be both on successive interviews with the same person. What he wasn't was bland or predictable, like most other late-night talkers.

After the 9/11 attacks, it was Dave who took the stage first, in a wrenching expression of love for his city and countrymen that may never be matched. But those of us who thought he'd never be the same were reassured when things soon got back to normal, the only lasting change being that Alan Coulter's intro now refers to New York as "the greatest city in the world" every night, as opposed to the occasional affectionate jibes that came before the attacks.

Thursday night, like usual, I tuned into CBS to catch Dave's interview with Woody Harrelson, star of "Zombieland" (subject of next week's column). Woody's always a great guest, bringing a breath of surreality wherever he goes. After the opening monologue, Dave asked if the audience wanted to hear a story. Surely expecting something about what he saw a squirrel doing with his nuts or the latest doings at the Hello Deli, they in the Ed Sullivan Theater and we at home all settled in.

You're aware what came next, unless you have been spending your time in a cave. A producer for CBS' "48 Hours" has been accused of trying to extort $2 million from Dave, threatening to reveal his sexual trysts with women who worked on the show, one of whom, Stephanie Burkitt, made a number of on-air appearances during the show a few years back, performing various stunts. Burkitt has also been connected to the man now accused in the blackmail plot. It's the sort of mess that makes talent agents chew Rolaids like Necco Wafers and makes TV movie script writers type so fast their keyboards throw sparks. Heck, Dave might even ascend to the heights of celebrity scandal: having his personal situation adapted into a "Law & Order" episode.

Letterman is not the first celebrity to find himself in a mess largely of his own making. What makes this one different is how he handled it, telling us all his side of the story before the tabloids and legitimate news outlets cranked up their respective hype machines.

Don't get me wrong: If it comes out that he in any way used his position to coerce any of these women into sex, I'll be at the front of the crowd calling for Dave's head on a pike. But my gut tells me that this won't prove to be the case. It was still poor judgment on his part, and I'm sure the repercussions will be substantial both personally and professionally.

However, until and unless he's found guilty of anything beyond making poor romantic choices, I'll still be catching the Top Ten every night. And if something further does develop that results in Dave's departure, maybe they'll give Paul Shaffer a turn behind the desk. The greatest second banana since Ed McMahon surely deserves a shot, don't you think?

Got a question? Comment? Anything weird going on in your life? Drop me a line, anytime!