(UPDATE, 11:44 a.m. PT, 8/2: Norm in today's Review-Journal lead off with this incident here. He didn't clarify much, but I suspect we'll be hearing more. ALSO, a nightclub-scene website reports of Blush, the ultra-lounge at Wynn: "Celebrities like Alan Thicke was seen here last night having a good time." Wowzer. He snubs the media he's paid by BMW to cater to and then pops up at Blush to rock it. And Blush, which is referred to on that site as "one of the hottest club scenes in Vegas" has his presence to show for proof of its place in the zeitgeist. Can't make this shit up.)I've had a long career in the media. A lot has happened to me in a lot of places. And I've never been so bizarrely mistreated as I was today by, of all people, Alan Thicke. You know, the kindly dad from "Growing Pains."
He just became our new what-a-jerk-off punchline. Earlier in the week, a PR rep approached me with an offer for an interview with Thicke, who was in Las Vegas to shill for BMW's new electric Mini Cooper. I figured I'd go ahead and take the interview for "The Strip" -- Thicke has some sort of
game show event coming up in Vegas in October -- and check out the electric car. I had just earlier in the week had an interview for The New York Times with an Arizona developer who insisted that electric cars were the big new thing, so I happened to have coincidentally begun taking an interest in doing a piece on the topic.
I agreed to meet Thicke at the Las Vegas Ice Center, a hockey and skating rink far across town from me. I was to interview him while we rode together to the Hard Rock. This would be a significant time investment, having to drive literally from one end of the valley to the other, then ride with Thicke almost all the way back, then have someone take me way out west again to get my car. Here's what the drive from near our house to the place I was to meet Thicke looks like:
It's far. And it's 110F out. And my car A/C, valiant though it is, wasn't really capable of keeping me cool given all the lights and traffic. Woe is me.
By Thursday, I was starting to realize I was pretty overbooked for Friday. But I had promised to meet Thicke and he was only in town for a day, so I moved interviews and appointments I had set up for pieces I've got going for the L.A. Times, New York Times and the Las Vegas Weekly. I also, as I always do, spent hours online prepping by reading a zillion old stories and drawing up questions. I wanted to read Thicke's new book in advance, but nobody on his team could manage to get a copy to me. I'm kinda glad now.
About five minutes before I arrived, the rep, John Passuth of Avalanche PR, even called from his East Coast offices to make sure I knew precisely where in the parking lot I needed to be. So imagine my surprise when I show up on time, get out of my car, walk up to the lady who is supposed to lead me to my interview and discover that the interview is off.
She said:
"Alan's already on the bus. He's gone. I'm sorry. This interview is off."Huh? Five minutes ago this was a go. Now it's off. Period. Not "we'll reschedule" or "do you want to check out the electric car anyway" or "can we get you a cold drink before you risk heat stroke on the ride home." It's just off. Buh-bye.
I started back home and checked my voicemail. There was this from Mr. Passuth:
"Alan Thicke had an emerency and has left the premises and we will have to cancel the interview. I am terribly, terribly sorry. We just got word from Alan's people. I've never dealt with anyone who dropped the ball within a minute or two of the interview so I'm embarrassed to even make this call."As well he should be. When I got back to my computer, I wrote demanding an explanation. This was Passuth's response:
"His publicist told us that he has canceled his entire afternoon of media. There was a situation with an earlier event at the ice center, nothing to do with my client or the car, that is the catalyst for all of this. Sorry I don't have a more detailed explanation for you."What might have happened? Maybe some deranged "Family Ties" fan thought he was Alex P. Keaton's dad and that just drives Alan Thicke NUTS. Who knows. All I know is that Alan Thicke blew a massive hole in my busy day and all I got was this shitty blog post.
Choice A: A diabolical East Coast publicist, John Passuth, arranges interviews with a low-level celebrity for several Vegas journalists knowing all the while that the celebrity himself won't be available. He even calls one journalist -- me -- minutes before the interview to ensure that I arrive at the precise location I am needed. But really, it's all a big bait-and-switch. When I arrive, the low-level celebrity is said to bolt exactly when he is to conduct the interview. Passuth says the celebrity's people have canceled all his appearances for the rest of the day because of an incident that occurred. This, the publicist believes, will engender good will among journalists and help get coverage for his product, the electric BMW car.
