Tony Fantozzi somehow brought Jack Webb into my life. 

He assuredly didn't need my guidance. As one of TV's first hyphenates with his own iconic production company, Mark VII, he created a lot of the television I grew up watching in Philadelphia, and he could have put together TV movies with his eyes closed. 

OK, to hide behind yet another cliche, he could invent an hour show with his hands tied behind his back. 

But, for whatever reason, he liked me, and we spent many hours at Perino's (he introduced me to this spot before it would disappear forever, just as Scandia, La Serre, Brown Derby, Le...

Upon arrival in Los Angeles in the mid '70's, the first thing I bought from King's Western store in Van Nuys was a brown Stetson cowboy hat. 

Why, I don't know, but having an extra large head and putting on a hat that fit nicely was so rare to me that I had to have it, even though $75 in 1976 was a small fortune to me.

Several years later it would come into very good use.

Mark Itkin, a newly-hatched agent replacing the departed syndication agent in that burgeoning area, asked me to meet with three "producers" named Briggle, Hennesy and Carrothers. It turned out the only thing they actually produced other than business cards, was dinner theater, and Briggle, the jovial spokesman for the group, had directed one episode of "Alice" and a lot of musical theatre in Ohio and such.

At this...

William Morris' policy for its book/literary department was to send out coverage and trust its West Coast colleagues to sell its books to TV and film.

Occasionally New York agents such as Peter Lampack and Ron Yatter ignored it and did the selling on their own. Owen Laster, department chief, appeared to follow tradition, but in reality Owen regularly called me for a head's up.  

He was significantly responsible for my first miniseries at NBC.

It was in fact his call that morning, saying that he would be sending a memo that James A. Michener's "Kent State: What Happened and Why" would be...

As an 8-year-old, I wrote a letter to Jerry Lewis.

No one thrilled me more than seeing him on our 12-inch black and white RCA, the "Colgate Comedy Hour" with Dean. There was no one funnier to an 8-year-old and, maybe, I equally flipped for Sammy Davis because, early in his career, he did an impression of Jerry.

Not a normal child, at age 12, I wore a three-piece suit, carried an attache case and had my own "client list." 

Once or twice a month, I cut school and either hung out with the black disc jockeys at WHAT radio station, three buses from my home, or hopped the subway and went downtown, visiting the magnificent hotels such as the Bellevue Stratford. 

I befriended the doormen. "Anybody famous staying here?" I asked -- and was immediately given a list with...