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(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KGoswU0tbjU)

Keen viewers of the Late Show with David Letterman were well aware of Bill Scheft — pictured above in pre-beard times — not only as a longtime writer on the show but also for his self-described role as Letterman’s “corner man,” stationed to the host’s left off-camera (and sometimes on), then huddling with Dave during commercial breaks. Scheft, an avid sports fan, novelist and rock-and-roll drummer, chatted with us about his nearly two decades working on the Late Show and those “heady” days before Letterman retired one year ago…

How has life been since the show ended? It was an abrupt transition as a viewer and fan so I can only imagine what it was like for you and other staff.

The biggest transition, and the one I think a lot of us are still getting used to, is not seeing the people you saw every day for so long. I mean, I’ve known and worked closely with Barbara [Gaines], Jude Brennan, Kathy Mavrikakis and Steve Young since the day I walked into 30 Rock in October 1991. I’ve known Nancy Agostini since she was 20 years old and she was the first writers’ intern at NBC and living in an all-women’s hotel.

You have no idea how large a chunk of people’s lives this show was. When Dave had his 30-year anniversary in late night in 2012, we did a Top Ten comprised of staffers who’d been there the longest. I was not even close to making the list.

In terms of the show itself, now that it’s over, so is the urgency in getting it on the air every night. I started as a newspaperman, and I always said the show was a combination of a daily newspaper, a weekly magazine and a monthly magazine. We would write stuff for that day, for the end of the week, and with the big prop pieces (like Halloween costumes), we’d do them three months in advance. There’s a velocity in working on the show that you take for granted because it’s your normal pace. The only time it remotely sunk in before this was after I came back from my hip replacement (July 2008) and I was on the floor the first day with my cane and my titanium implant and I couldn’t believe how fast everyone was moving around me.

Any insider tidbit you can give us from your years at that spot beside him at the desk?

My job was just to keep him loose during the commercials. One time, he said to me he had just come from the ophthalmalogist. I said, “How’d it go?” He said, “The guy said I wasn’t producing enough tears.” I said, “Have you thought about working for yourself?”

Any thoughts or particular reflections from that last day and show a year ago (May 20)?

No. I got it all down when I wrote my last diary post (“End of Daves”) on my blog: (Final) Show Diary of Stuff Noteworthy Only to Me, Day 28 (End of Daves). Nothing more to add.

Is there one show or moment during that final run of shows that has stuck with you more than others?

Well, I started as a stand-up, so Norm Macdonald’s last set, in which he closed with a line of Dave’s, was beyond perfect. The one thing comics love is when another comic does one of their bits to them. And that he got choked up doing it. Dave never understood how much other comics admired him.

The two other moments, interestingly enough, were both musical. John Mayer doing “American Pie,” which was Dave’s idea, and the booking of Hootie and the Blowfish. Did I love that. We had them on like seven times in 1994 with different cuts from that first album, and to have them back was, I thought, an inspired piece of booking by Sheila Rogers, who did phenomenal work the last three months.

How did you and the staff take the barrage of media during those weeks? The show was receiving high levels of appreciation, which must have felt good and perhaps overdue.

It was a little heady. And, of course, it was lovely to have the show discussed for its content rather than the nonsense of ratings, which you have no control over. That said, I always felt Dave never got the credit for all the moments he created nightly.

I know you didn’t want to comment much during the final run of Late Shows. And many were asked about Letterman’s influence and the show’s. So how would you have answered that question for yourself, his and the show’s influence / significance?

I didn't answer it because it was Dave’s moment. Jerry Foley, the director, said a great thing. He said that by the time we were done, Dave and all of us will have left nothing on the table. So, the most satisfying thing is that we all went out knowing that there was nothing to regret. And when you saw more than a few reviewers use the word “perfect” to describe the last show, that clinched it. And, of course, that explains why we won the Emmy…. Oh, wait. We didn’t. Never mind.

As for the show’s influence and significance, I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t think it will ever overcome the echo chamber of “It was brilliant at NBC, then he sold out, then he got sick, then he got liberal, then he got in trouble, then he phoned it in….” The guy was on the air for 33 years. If you saw him on NBC when you were in college, you’re over 50 now. You’ve aged, and you resent it. So, the show can’t possibly be as good and he can’t be as good as when you first discovered each other. I fervently disagree. His weak points at NBC (monologue, interviewing) became his strongest points at CBS. His comedic sensibility adapted as he became older and the world changed. You can make the argument that he took many more chances as time went on. And as for the distraction of Leno? I like what Michael Keaton said. Words to the effect of “I like that Dave was number 2. It makes more sense, given that he was always up against it.”

Have you seen Letterman in person since? Any secret plans to do a Web version of the Late Show?

I’ve seen him twice. And the secret Web version is so secret I’m not involved.

What were your favourite moments or guests during your time on the show? You’re a huge sports fan so maybe an athlete. Those often seemed to give Letterman the biggest thrill.

When Paul McCartney was on, I wanted to say something to him during the break that no one else had ever said. What are the odds? So, I went up to him and said, “Thanks for tonight. And thanks for everything before tonight.” And he looked at me and said, “Are you a writer?” And I said, “Yes.” And he said, “How did I know that?” And we both really laughed. And John Filo, the show photographer, got it….

What are you up to these days? I know you have a band, The Truants, and have published several books — any new works in the offing? (And one of your titles was The Ringer, which is the name of Bill Simmons’ new website. Did his people get in touch with your people about that?)

I am working on two novels. One is the extension of the serial about bust-out comic Tommy Dash that I started on Nikki Finke’s show-biz fiction website Hollywood Dementia. The other is a sequel to The Ringer, entitled Through The Ringer. And no, Bill Simmons’ people did not get in touch with me. They don’t have to. That's how big he is. I have one regret, and that’s not buying the domain theringer.com in 2002. But who did that kind of thing in 2002?

Thoughts about the late-night scene since Letterman retired? Feel free to be as candid, even snarky, as you’d like.

Obviously, it’s a different sensibility. But this is what works now. It is not geared toward a 59-year-old Jew, but what is, other than high fiber? I will say, I like what Seth Meyers is doing.

Finally, any statement on Letterman’s current look? Everyone has an opinion, it seems.

The only thing I can tell you is that he loves that everyone seems to hate it. Loves it.

Previous chats:

Hello, Sister Town Tourists! Don't think that we've abandoned you. Believe that we've abandoned you. It was not intentional, though! I just started a job at the world famous (?) Strand Bookstore, and it demands a lot from this poor little blister sister. Anyways, think of this post as a little Sister Town Story Time...Annie, feel free to be a fact checker:

So, I was inspired to write this because I saw that Bill Scheft (writer for the Late Show) is going to be doing a comedy panel discussion for New York Comedy Week (Wait! Annie! Larry David is here, too! I'm stranded on an island with all of my favorite people and I can't see them!) that is moderated by Alan Zweibel. Don't know who Alan Zweibel is? That's okay. He was one of the original SNL writers, and has written many books, one of which won the Thurber Prize for American Humor. Last year, when Annie and I both attended the University of Arizona, he was the keynote speaker for the Tucson Festival of Books, which is held the week before Easter. I had always wanted to meet Alan...and was really excited to see that he would be in Tucson. The only problem was that he was speaking on our first day of Spring Break. We had already planned to be back in Phoenix by then. Umm and so where was I going with this? Oh yeah. Annie agreed that we could spend our first day of break in Tucson stalking Alan Zweibel. (Were we stalking him, Annie? Not really. No, that is not the right word. I don't think I am confident enough to really stalk anyone.) So, Annie and I decided to bike to campus at sunset so we could get to the event early and maybe see him walk in or walk out or walk through or walk by or walk around us. Our mode of transportation was: me on a bike, Annie on her longboard, and connecting us was a scarf that she put in my belt loop. I pulled her down the mall, and I would slow down and she would ride ahead of me and then I would pedal really fast and so we would use that alternating momentum to make a poor man's Disneyland ride. It was so fun because, normally, there would be masses of misguided teens traveling in misguided packs toward their respective sorority/fraternity houses, but, since these poor souls had misguided themselves down to Cancun for the week, it was Annie and I who now owned the mall. It was cold, but we didn't need jackets. We were laughing too hard.

So, we parked our junk and I tucked my copy of "The Other Shulman" under my arm. We entered the ballroom and were instantly rendered unwelcome because of how we were dressed. It was the Tucson elite who had gathered for this event, and we were the bottomfeeding rugrats trying to steal cookies as they exited the kitchen door. And we weren't really trying to conceal our intentions. We sat on the floor and waited for something, anything to happen. All of a sudden, Alan walked out of the double doors and made eye contact with me. It was as if my copy of his book was a homing device. He made a beeline towards me, and I didn't even have to ask him to sign my book, he said, "Can I sign that for you?" And of course I said "Yes." He said, "Can I sign it 'Love, Alan'?" Is there a guy in your life who would get mad if I did that?" And I laughed, "No." I said. "By the way, we say you on the Late Show last night! I was an intern there last semester," I told him. "Do you know Bill Scheft?" He asked. "Yes, I know Bill." He handed my book back to me. 

"Thanks, Alan."

"Now, where's the bathroom?" he asked.

"Down the hall, to your right."

"Thanks." "You going inside?"

"I don't have a ticket?"

"Oh. Fuck 'em. Say you're with me."

"Okay!"

He went to the bathroom and I tried not to freak out. Those moments after you've gotten exactly what you wanted, exactly in the manner in which you pictured it...does that even make sense? Like that was how I envisioned our meeting thousands of years ago. That doesn't make sense either.

I did stand inside to hear him talk. It was funny, it was sad. I cried. I didn't even have to make myself cry like I sometimes do.

I stole a few boxes of cookies.

Annie and I left. We re-equipped ourselves with our contraptions and sped home on the mall. A cop yelled at us. Told us to stop. We didn't stop. We made another full circle tour of the mall, me pulling Annie behind me with my scarf looped through my pants. This time, the cop stuck some of his minions in golf carts on us, and we were being hotly pursued. We kept going, flying down the mall. We turned the corner and tried to lose them. They used their dumb little golf carts to corner us, and when we tried to run, they yelled at us to stop. 

They took our IDs. Remember? They took our IDs and tried to be all scary. They ruined our innocent fun. We had run so far and found our clear spot. They had to muddy it. 

I never told you this, but I saw Alan see us being stopped by the cops. He was laughing.

Annie and I rode home on the mall. When we were off campus, she strung the scarf through my belt loop once again, and we flew home.

That was Alan Zweibel night.

___

Stay tuned for next week's Sister Town Story Time, the one in which I read Patti Smith's foreword to Arthur Rimbaud's A Season in Hell in the rearmost corner of Strand Bookstore and cry my eyes out while on the clock.

Attention David Letterman fans: here are a whole bunch of Late Show related stats for the first 20 years of the show

Wow. Somebody has a lot of free time - thank goodness.