by Jay Onrait
On the second day of my “book tour,” I did a handful of newspaper, radio, and television interviews around town, then spent the afternoon in the hallowed halls of the Canadian Broadcast Company. My first stop was at the radio show Q, a popular interview program then hosted by former Moxy Früvous lead singer and noted teddy bear aficionado Jian Ghomeshi. Jian was out that day, and I was thrilled to learn that Piya would be filling in. How strange and wonderful was this experience? Two friends who had known each other since they first got into the media business now involved in a one-on-one interview about a book one of those friends had written about the media business. The interview went really well. Piya was even a little nervous because it was her first time filling in on the show. The studio was set up with Persian rugs on the floor where bands would often play acoustic sets on the program. I participated in a Vine video where I rolled myself up in one of them, but the joke turned out to be on me as the carpets had clearly not been cleaned since the show went on the air and were filled with the dirt and mud of a thousand stinky indie-rock boots.
I left the interview feeling so much better. So what if my media tour wasn’t going exactly as planned, so what if my interview on CP24 had been interrupted by an out-of-control crackhead politician, and so what if my interview on The Social had been interrupted by a good friend and former employer who didn’t know when to stop talking? The important thing was that I was getting the word out about Anchorboy. Q was extremely popular, and I was fortunate Piya and her producers were willing to have me on to talk. Immediately, my Twitter feed fired up with tons of positive feedback about the segment with Piya. My agent, Carly Watters, and editor, Doug Richmond, along with my publicist, had come to the taping at the CBC, and now the four of us got into an elevator and headed to the final stop of the day: George Stroumboulopoulos Tonight.
You may have noticed that on the back of Anchorboy there’s a quote from George Stroumboulopoulos that reads: “I can’t remember if we’ve ever met or if I’ve even heard Jay Onrait speak, but I do know that a book from him at this stage must mean he’s set to retire . . . so it can’t be all bad, right?” I wish I was all set to retire! I love that quote—and it’s more accurate than most people probably realize. George and I barely know each other at all. I met him at a Gemini Awards ceremony a couple years ago, and that was pretty much it. He probably wasn’t lying when he said he couldn’t remember!
So why did I reach out to him for a quote on the back of my book? Because my publisher, HarperCollins, asked me to, I thought it was a decent idea, and George was more than happy to oblige. Admittedly, I also had a somewhat ulterior motive. If a quote from George made its way onto the back of my book, then surely George would invite me to appear for an interview on his television show. George has a fascinating interview style that involves sitting directly across from his subject and leaning forward so that his face is just inches away. Then, he gazes into the subject’s eyes with an intensity that suggests he is staring into their very soul. I was looking forward to sitting in the red club chair across from George and making every effort not to laugh as he stared deep into my eyes and asked me: “Jay, is it true you have a serious problem controlling your bowels?”
That opportunity never came. When I was sent the list of interviews I would be doing for Anchorboy in Toronto, George Stroumboulopoulos Tonight was on the list, but I wasn’t going to be interviewed one-on-one: I would be part of a panel. This meant sitting around a table with George and two comedians, riffing on some of the subjects of the day—a time filler that allowed the show not to have to find a worthy interview subject for every segment. I figured there must be a pretty exciting guest booked on the show that day.
When I got off the elevator where George’s studio was located, I was suddenly face-to-face with Steven and Chris. Steven Sabados and Chris Hyndman were the new faces of afternoon television on the CBC—the former stars of Designer Guys on HGTV Canada now had a daily lifestyle show on the public broadcaster, and they had just finished taping for the day. I lived in a beautiful condo building at the corner of Queen Street East and Sumach Street in the east end of downtown Toronto from 2003 to 2006, and I would often pass the two of them in a Lexus SUV as I entered and left the parking garage. Their office must be in this building, I always thought to myself. (I am not exactly a genius when it comes to perception.) They came out as a couple a few years later. I snapped a quick photo with Chris because he looks like Dan O’Toole if Dan dyed his hair, and to me that is hilarious.
I was led to the green room by Carly Heffernan, a former member of Toronto’s Sketchersons comedy troupe, whom I had met years earlier while hosting the troupe’s Sunday Night Live show. Carly has the manic energy of a sketch comedian and is always “on.” We cracked jokes all the way to the small room where everyone gathered on couches to munch on what was without question the worst food in the history of television talk show green rooms. George had recently gone vegan, and (I mean this with the utmost love and respect possible) he looked absolutely terrible. He looked like Adrien Brody preparing for his Oscar-winning role in The Pianist. I was genuinely concerned for the guy. In keeping with George’s new lifestyle, the spread in the green room mostly consisted of dried apple chips that were so tasteless I think I would have rather had George spoon feed sand into my mouth. I grabbed a bag to take on the set and hopefully have a little fun. Then the producer of the panel segment, Steven Kerzner, walked into the room.
Fans of Canadian comedy and pop culture may recognize that name. For years Steven plied his trade at various media outlets as the alter ego of the curmudgeonly, cigar-chomping puppet Ed the Sock. Ed was a mainstay on MuchMusic during the 1990s and was especially well known for his “worst of” end-of-the-year video show, Fromage, which for several years was one of the funniest, most-underrated things on Canadian television. He also hosted his own talk show that appeared Friday nights on CityTV. Ed was paired with various co-hosts over the life of his talk show, culminating in Kerzner’s real-life wife serving as co-host for the final years of the program. In a weird coincidence, his brothers Mitch and Jordan were both longtime employees of TSN as a producer and editor, respectively. I had known Jordan, the youngest Kerzner brother, since my first days at TSN in 1996. I had never met Steven, however, and I had no idea that he was now producing these comedy segments on George’s show. Steven was a short, slight, and talkative guy and we hit it off right away, going back and forth and riffing on the recent news about Mayor Ford. Steven told me he was also writing a book under his Ed the Sock persona and that he had read mine and enjoyed it. I immediately felt a rapport with the guy and began to look forward to the panel segment more and more.
Joining me on the panel were two local comedians. Arthur Simeon was just starting out in the business as a stand-up, and Emma Hunter was mostly focused on sketch work but was now also branching into stand-up, having recently appeared on a City/Much game show about pop culture. Cute and bubbly, she seemed destined to play the romantic love interest on a future CBC workplace sitcom. Both Arthur and Emma were friendly and laid-back, but I noticed something distinctly different about the way they prepared for the segment. They prepared for the segment. Steven had been in contact with both of them about the proposed discussion points, including the recent breaking news about Mayor McCrackhead. Both comedians were armed with a page full of potential one-liners and jokes to say during the discussion.
I had nothing but my bag of apple chips.
I hoped I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself out there, unless it was on purpose like I usually did when I appeared on shows like this.
The “exciting guest” on the show that day was former Canadian prime minister Joe Clark. I guess if you have to be bumped, then getting bumped by a former head of state is nothing to be ashamed of. (You’ve probably noticed that I am great at justifying reasons for being bumped from interviews at this point in my career.) I had basically been following Joe around town for two days from interview to interview. It began the pre
vious morning when we met in the green room at Canada AM, and then I followed him over to CTV News Channel, at which point he was clearly becoming uncomfortable trying to make small talk with me since he had absolutely no idea who I was. I tried the “we’re both from Alberta” angle, but that can only take you so far. Joe was nice though and a consummate politician, asking me about my book and what life was like in Los Angeles. I’d lost touch with the former PM after my appearance on The Social, but now was back in contact with him as I watched George stare straight into his thick glasses and jowly jaws from the green room monitor at the CBC. George had Mr. Clark on for two full segments to discuss his new book, and although I could only hear bits and pieces of it in between Steven, Arthur, and Emma talking about their plans for our upcoming segment, I have no doubt that the former prime minister would have been a fascinating interview.
A few minutes later, another staffer appeared in the green room doorway to let us know that the PM’s interview was finished and we were on next. We were led to the main studio past another gaggle of employees, many of whom were just standing around idly and chatting. All of my darkest thoughts about the CBC suddenly came bubbling up to the surface of my brain. Why were my taxpayer dollars funding this bloated talk show that seemed to lack direction and—if the recent Nielsen ratings were to be believed—viewers? I decided then and there that it was time for me to stir up some shit . . .
I took my seat around an elevated table in the middle of a large studio. The audience surrounding us were sitting “in the round” like it was a stop on Def Leppard’s Hysteria tour in 1989. George and I greeted each other warmly—he had clearly not read the book, but again, I couldn’t really blame the guy. He had just finished interviewing Joe Clark for eight minutes; I would have spent the previous evening cramming for that too. Arthur and Emma had appeared on the show before and so we were off and running as soon as the red light went on.
George opened the segment by stating how nice it was to have Helen Fielding on that day, the author of Bridget Jones’s Diary, “that book that you read that makes you say ‘Oh my God if my life is like this I have to change it.’” I had never read Bridget Jones’s Diary but I wondered how many people had read my book and thought the same thing. Also, Helen Fielding was on? I didn’t see her anywhere. Clearly our segment would be paired with an interview George had done a different day. This whole production was certainly strange.
“I have to take bigger risks,” George continued. “I need to explore the concept of risks because we all need a little nudging in that direction.” Was George talking about me? Or was he talking about himself? George had just completed a ten-episode run of a new interview show for CNN. George’s show was put in a pretty tough ratings position right from the start. CNN had placed it on Sunday nights when people in their 30s, 40s, and 50s who might want to watch it were probably preoccupied with Mad Men, Game of Thrones, and the other premium cable gems of the day. His U.S. television run had already ended by the time I visited his CBC show that day, and as he made no mention of it, I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring it up. I knew firsthand how hard it was to launch something new on U.S. television, especially in this day and age, and I felt genuinely gutted that the CNN show hadn’t worked out for George—especially since I knew he kept a place in Los Angeles and really wanted to make the leap.
George introduced me warmly, welcomed me back from the States, and mentioned my book, ticking all the boxes, while asking how I was. I had been given a peel-off sticker that said “Visitor #3-7452” to place on my suit jacket while walking through the CBC and I mentioned that I was “happy my taxpayer dollars had allowed me the privilege to wear such a sticker.” The joke fell flatter than George’s ratings at CNN. Why was everyone at the CBC so afraid to talk about the millions of dollars we Canadians were spending to fund this national network? I guess I just answered my own question.
George turned over to Emma and asked her about the last time she took a big risk. I guess this was the theme of our segment today, and there was no doubt I had a good angle to bring to the discussion. Emma launched into a joke about how during the past Thanksgiving she decided to “attack her uncle from Alaska across the Bering Strait to Asia, and held North America. That’s why they call it Risk!” That joke fell flatter than my taxpayer joke. The afternoon crowd at the CBC had clearly spent too much time exploring the Hockey Hall of Fame earlier in the day, or maybe we were all just terrible—either way this was bad TV. As it turns out, we were just getting started with the whole “bad TV” thing.
“What’s one risk you would never take?” George asked me after we had all bantered back and forth for a few minutes.
I looked down at the flimsy, cheap plastic red water cups on the table.
“I’ll tell you one risk I would never take: using thermos tops as mugs on the George Stroumboulopoulos show.” Zing!
“I don’t want to make you feel badly about your choices, dude,” said George as he moved in closer to my face. Why did he insist on doing that? “but the World Food Program ‘Fill the Cup’ campaign, that’s what these mugs are for.”
“But that’s just what you did, you made me feel bad!” I replied. “You did the exact opposite of what you said you were going to do! You said ‘I don’t want to make you feel bad,’ and then you made me feel bad about it!’” This was met with actual laughter and applause from the audience, which meant we had something resembling a fun exchange going on. At that point, George had to go to commercial break, just as we were gaining a little momentum. Still, the whole panel segment wasn’t actually that bad. So I didn’t get my one-on-one close-proximity face-to-face time on a nationally broadcasted Canadian talk show that drew the same number of viewers as reruns of poker on TSN—it didn’t matter. I showed up ready to play and I was holding my own with these comedians. This really wasn’t a waste of time after all.
During the commercial break, the floor director told me everything was going well. I was feeling very happy about the entire proceedings, but against all odds, this bizarre and bewildering couple of days spent promoting my little book was about to get even weirder.
After we returned from the break George addressed me once again. I was feeling a little bad about George asking me all the questions during the roundtable and leaving Emma and Arthur out in the cold.
“Justin Trudeau recently admitted he smokes weed. A lot of people said, ‘That’s so progressive,’ but then others said, ‘Hey, I think that’s illegal.’ Do you think that was a reasonable risk?”
Why was George coming to me with this one and not the two comedians? I wondered? Didn’t it stand to reason that comedians would be better versed on marijuana than a sportscaster? Then again, maybe not.
“Actually, I do,” I said. “Politically, it separates him from the other candidates, and it makes his views stand out. And it’s not crack.” Good ol’ Rob Ford had provided me the ammunition I needed to make a timely joke.
George continued: “Speaking of taking risks, I know you loved old-school wrestling. Did you ever want to take a risk and become a pro wrestler?”
Where the hell was this going?
“Yes, George,” I replied, “just look at my physique. Clearly.”
“What I used to love about wrestling was how controversial and risk taking it was in terms of politics. Talking to different parts of the world, introducing us to Middle Eastern cultures . . .”
“Yeah, that’s right!” I chimed in. “The Iron Sheik and Nikolai Volkoff.”
“You did love the Iron Sheik, right?” asked George.
“Big-time fan of the Iron Sheik,” I replied.
Where was this going? What the hell was wrong with George? Fidgeting in his seat, eyes darting around the room. Suddenly I turned around—and there he was.
“Oh, my gosh,” I said like some yokel.
The Iron Sheik himself, draped in Iranian desert robes and keffiyeh, with a big gold medallion around his neck. He walked up to our table trailed by a heavyset
younger dude wearing a green and red plaid jacket and sideways ball cap with some sort of makeshift championship wrestling belt over his shoulder. All I could think to do was stare into the camera. Straight into the camera. It all made sense to me now, about as much sense as an appearance by the Iron Sheik on a Canadian talk show in 2013 could make.
The Iron Sheik was a legendary old grappler who rode the wave of pro-wrestling popularity in the World Wrestling Federation throughout the ’80s and early 1990s as a villainous “heel” who terrorized good guys like Hulk Hogan and Sgt. Slaughter (Hogan won his first ever WWF title from the Sheik in 1984). The Sheik memorably teamed up with Russian tough guy Nikolai Volkoff to form one of the most memorable tag teams in wrestling history. They would get booed mercilessly by crowds when they entered the ring, as Volkoff insisted on singing the Russian national anthem before matches while the Sheik stood by holding an Iranian flag. The Cold War was alive and well in the squared circle in those days.
I hadn’t heard much about the Sheik during the past couple of decades, but Twitter was a lifeline to him and he embraced the medium with a fervour and craziness the likes of which may only have been seen by those who were lucky enough to witness Rob Ford attack a pipe. The Iron Sheik may not have actually been running his own Twitter account, but whoever was running it was not afraid to offend. Nothing was off-limits, and one of the Sheik’s most frequently used insults involved telling people that he was going to “fuck them in the ass and make them humble.” Gay jokes, racist jokes—you name it, the Sheik did it, and a surprising number of people embraced it. People got a kick out of the Sheik following them on Twitter or, better yet, insulting them on Twitter, as was the case with me.