Where There's Smoke...: Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man, a Memoir Read Online Free PDF

seemed the purpose of the first read was for the actors to make as many jokes as they could. After the read and some cuts and work at the table, we would rehearse ‘on mike.’ The producer (director) would retreat to the control booth overlooking the studio and give his instructions over a PA system while we worked out our positions at the microphones and rehearsed the scenes, practising turning our pages soundlessly, an important skill for actors of the time. The sound effects person would create live sound effects, another challenging skill that time has rendered redundant. Once all the pieces had been worked on we would break for dinner. Following the dinner break, there would be a dress/technical rehearsal in which the live music would be incorporated, in the case of Life with the Robinsons performed on an electric organ, followed by adjustments to the timing, and then the live performance itself.
    Once again it didn’t occur to me, aged twelve, to be nervous. My main concern on the first day was finding the cafeteria and ordering all the food that I really liked, free of any parental advice. Nowadays, it seems that child actors always have a parent tagging along. Not only was it inappropriate for my mother to be there, I never saw any parents other than Roger Newman’s mother — more on that later. I had a large helping of pancakes and a chocolate milkshake. When I returned to the studio after the meal, the reality of the task ahead finally struck home and the butterflies in my stomach churned the pancakes and milkshake unmercifully for the next two hours. Fortunately, I had a strong stomach and the performance went ahead without a hitch. Thereafter, I took more care in my choice of diet before a performance.
    Had my mother known of my dietary excess her anxiety during the first broadcast would have been even greater than it was. It was bad enough that she had to listen to the first live broadcast of her young son, but the first appearance of her son on the show was heart-stopping. In the story a line was delivered to young Mickey and he did not reply until asked again. In that moment of Mickey’s silence my mother was sure that I must be on the floor trying to gather my fallen script or recover from some similar catastrophe. Her breathing returned when Mickey started speaking.
    It was ironic that my first radio work was a mental health series since my mother was a child psychologist. I assume the connection was purely serendipitous. She was never a stage mother. She never pushed my career nor discouraged it. She allowed my life to happen and I am forever grateful for that.
    Not like Roger Newman’s mother. Roger Newman was the leading child actor on CBC at the time and played some truly major roles on some of the major dramas. And to my twelve-year-old judgement at the time, he was very good. One day we were doing a CBC Stage drama. These were hour-long plays rehearsed over two days, starting on Saturday and performing Sunday evening. Roger and I were playing small roles, unusual for him, not for me, and the lead role was being played by another child actor. These shows were not done in the CBC building but in a local theatre, though there was no live audience. As we started to break for lunch on Saturday there was a huge commotion in the foyer. Moments later someone grabbed me and pushed me protectively into a small room. Roger’s mother was on a tirade. And she was dangerous. Why was her son not playing the lead? She charged up and down the theatre as people rushed to protect the young actor she might have killed had she got to him. Shut up in my hideaway I’m not sure how it resolved, but eventually she was taken away and Roger’s role was recast.
    As far as I know, Roger never worked for the CBC again.
    For two or three years I was quite busy doing roles mostly on secondary dramas and school broadcasts. Oh yes, school broadcasts. Every Wednesday morning there would be a fifteen-minute drama tailored to a