All of the time -- well, not all of the time, but more often than I’m comfortable with -- people come up to me and say, “Charles In Charge, man. What happened?” My answer? “Fucking Scott Baio happened, that’s what happened. Now leave me the fuck alone. I’m eating.” Yes, that’s my response. Every. Single. Time.
Maybe I should back up… nah, heck with it. Look, if you don’t know already, I’ll let you know now, and maybe this could be construed as “backing up” I don’t -- I’m not a grammarist… I don’t know phrases. Anyway… what? Go back (okay, this absolutely is “backing up”) to 1983. Television was in its infancy then. There were some networks and syndication and MTV, but not as much as now. And there were no iPods or iTVs or iBalls or whatever. None of our entertainment venues had “i” in front of it.
Where was… ? Right. 1983. I, an up and coming young actor just out of Juilliard, had somehow1 inspired a writer named Writer McWriterton2 to create a show for me. I didn’t ask. He created it, and then approached me. He even used my initials in the title, though back then I was going by my first name, Dartholomew. Deemed too “not real,” McWriterton decided to use my initials (the “J” was, and is still to this very day, for my middle name, Jordache -- yes, like the jeans you’re probably wearing).
The script was great. How could I say “no” when my agent sent it to me? Of course I moved to LA from New York to star in a show about how I’d likely be if I were a college student who moved in with a family to be their housekeeper, baby-sitter, and friend to the children. Who wouldn’t?
The first sign of trouble was when I showed up and was told that the aforementioned Scott Baio was going to be there to read lines with me as my best friend, a character by the name of “Buddy Lembeck.” Now, yeah, sure, I was the hotshot young up and coming actor, but he was the well known thespian who was “Lil’ Fonzie” on two TV shows as well as the star of the hit sci fi/teen sex comedy hybrid Zapped!. I was full o’ piss and vinegar back in those days (you only noticed the smell if you got very close to me), but even then I knew something was afoot.
We read the lines, and it was going well, but everyone was dancing around the elephant in the room.3 Here was this big celebrity playing second fiddle to a wildly talented nobody. After reading through a few lines, all brilliantly written, the casting director, Casty McCasterton, cleared her throat and suggested that maybe, for fun, Scott and I switch parts for a read through.
Some network bigwig must’ve been having second thoughts about giving the lead in an epic new sitcom to a complete unknown. I could’ve stormed out then and there, the writing on the wall, but I figured that maybe I could do something with this Buddy Lembeck. I turned the buffoonery up a notch and played him, honestly, much truer than Baio did. His Charles, though? Fuck, even I had to admit it was magic.
“Casty,” I said, “may I make a suggestion?”
Casty brushed the coke from her nose and looked at me through glassy eyes.
I put my hand on Scott Baio’s shoulder and looked at him, man to man. He recoiled a bit. “Everyone’s thinking it, so I’ll just say it.” I nodded at Baio. “This man is your lead. This is your D.J.”
He agreed wholeheartedly, and Casty sighed, “Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were gonna kick up a shit storm.”
The top brass randomly changed the lead’s name to “Charles” (Why not Scott? I dunno. Maybe too ethnic.), and my agent was furious at me, but I told him it was the right call that would’ve been made whether I brought it up or not. I didn’t need to be the lead. Buddy was a lovable character, and this being my first regular sitcom role4, I figured it’d be good for me to watch the Baio and learn.
We shot the pilot in June of 1984, just about a month shy of my twenty-fourth birthday. The rest of the cast was delightful, and I’d settled into my sidekick role. I thought all went well overall, but Baio was severely threatened by my presence, knowing as he did that I was the man that would be Charles. Also, all the chicks dug me more -- something he was not used to. My height intimidated him as well, to the point that I was told to walk on my knees during the program, and jokes calling me “Lil’ Buddy” were added into the already jam packed scripts. I tried to be professional with him, but I didn’t have time for his jealous B.S.
When the producers called me into their office, I knew something was up. I noticed a headshot of Willie Aames, of Eight is Enough and, more tellingly, Zapped! fame, was on the desk in front of the executive producer, Producey McProducerton.
“We’re going another direction with the Buddy Lembeck character.”
Permanently disillusioned, I’ve never worked on another sitcom again. In fact, aside from the occasional play (theatre being, of course, my first lust), I quit the “biz” all together. I’ve made peace with what happened now, though. I mean, sure, if I ever see Baio again, I’ll put his teeth down his throat for ruining my career with his own insecurities and having me replaced with his lesser friend, but… other than that, all’s well. Shit, they canned the rest of the cast, other than Baio and Aames, for the show's second run in 1987… so it wasn’t just me, in the end. And, anyway, now, thanks to the interwebs, people all over the world can watch what I’ve been drunkenly glaring at every Tuesday through Saturday at 3:38AM, first on Beta then on VHS, since 1984 -- the original pilot for Charles In Charge, co-starring yours truly as Charles’s BFF Buddy Lembeck instead of future Bible Man Willie freaking Aames.
Bible Man, dude. Fucking… Bible Man.
