Backstage Tv Show Quotes

It's easy to write upcoming scenes in books and television shows. Trusting God to write them in real life is a lot harder. But it's worth it. And you have to admit, it's an adventure.

a Cell match for the main event at the pay-per-view. Later in the week on Smackdown, on the Miz TV segment between Ambrose and Cena, the match was revealed to be a No Holds Barred Contract On A Pole Match. On the October 13 episode of Raw, Ambrose and Cena had their match that night instead in which Ambrose won and will face Seth Rollins in a Hell in a Cell match at the Hell in a Cell pay-per-view. At Hell in a Cell, Ambrose lost to Rollins after Bray Wyatt attacked Ambrose at the end of the main event match. The next few weeks saw Ambrose and Wyatt taunting and attacking each other in both backstage and in-ring segments, with Wyatt claiming that he could "fix" Ambrose, leading to a match at Survivor Series. Ambrose lost the match by disqualification after hitting Wyatt with a steel chair and then hit Wyatt through a table in which Wyatt would be buried under tables and chairs as Ambrose stood on a ladder. This would then soon after announce another match between the two in a tables, ladders and chairs match on the TLC pay-perview next month. During the match, a television monitor blew up in Ambrose's face, allowing Wyatt to win the match. Ambrose managed to beat Wyatt in a Boot Camp match yet again was defeated by Wyatt in a "Miracle on 34th Street Fight". The feud concluded when Wyatt beat Ambrose in the first Ambulance match held on Raw. At the Royal Rumble, Ambrose participated in the Royal Rumble match, but was eliminated by Kane and Big Show. On the January 19 episode of Raw, Ambrose defeated Intercontinental Champion Bad News Barrett. The following weeks, Ambrose demanded a match for Barrett's title, but Barrett declined, leading to Ambrose attacking him, tying his hands around the ring post, and forcing him to sign a contract

imagine what you mean to me; you’ve saved my life; here are some tickets, front row; come backstage afterwards; we’ll go out for drinks, celebrate. I’ve learned my lesson.” The show goes on, this guy is sensational, he’s going to be a big TV star now. All his friends come backstage, knock on the door. He comes out in a velvet robe, says, “Fellas, I’ve got that old shitty feeling coming over me again.” And he slams the door in their faces. That’s Peter.

Kept on as head of NBC Entertainment by Fred Silverman’s successor, Grant Tinker, Tartikoff had more than justified Tinker’s faith in him by gradually putting together a string of hits such as Cheers, Hill Street Blues, Night Court, Miami Vice, The A Team, Family Ties, and The Cosby Show, hits that finally took NBC out of third place in the ratings. That most of those shows were of an unusual originality and quality was not an insignificant footnote, for it could be said that by succeeding with them Tartikoff and Tinker contributed more than anyone to a movement in network television away from the crassness of the programs that dominated the medium during the Fred Silverman era.

Author and entrepreneur, James Altucher, in his book, I Was Blind But Now I See, suggests that, the best thing you can do is avoid all news. He explains why he’s qualified to give that advice: I’ve worked for over a dozen media companies. I’ve written for newspapers, TV shows, I’ve been a pundit on TV shows … so I know what they are up to. He goes on to share that he was backstage at a news show when the producer told him: Don’t fool yourself – all of this is just filler in between advertisements. I share these stories because I don’t want the media’s headlines to scare you. The purpose of this chapter is to help you understand the world you are living in so you can make wiser decisions.

One of Lorne’s pet theories had always been that Saturday Night was not so much in the business of television as it was in the business of rock and roll. The audience, the sensibility, was the same, he said, the show had simply picked up where rock in the sixties left off.

Lorne’s bait for attracting that talent would be to offer them an honest chance to get their work across to a huge audience they all believed was out there, waiting. Lorne often said that in television creative people were usually given a great deal of money and no freedom. He promised to reverse that ratio. The money would come in time. The strength of the comedy underground also allowed Lorne the luxury of searching out what he called “disciplined shock troops”—people who could go in and get the job done. He wanted Saturday Night to be different and startling, but not for the wrong reasons. The sensibility should be fresh, even raw, but the execution smooth, if not seamless. He didn’t want people saying of the show, “They’re going to be great when they get it together.” Monty Python’s Eric Idle had once described Python as “the best comedy fighting team ever assembled,” and that’s what Lorne said he was after.

Baudelaire, William Blake, D. H. Lawrence, William Burroughs, Henry Miller, Jack Kerouac, Lenny Bruce, Ken Kesey, the Beatles, and Hunter S. Thompson were as much the fathers of Saturday Night as Kovacs, Carson, Benny, and Berle. Dan Aykroyd called it Gonzo Television. They were video guerrillas, he’d say. Every show was an assault mission.

Wilson, “whose strange past is darkly troubled” (Radio Life), and Ray Brandon, a bitter ex-con on parole. By the early 1950s, the Bauer family had become the serial’s center: Bill and Bertha (Bert), their 11-year-old son, Michael, and Meta Bauer, Bill’s sister. Three decades later, the TV serial was still focused on the Bauer brothers and their careers in law and medicine. The Ruthledges and the Kranskys were fading memories, and the “guiding light” of the title was little more than symbolic. In its heyday, it was one of Phillips’s prime showpieces. She produced it independently, sold it to sponsors, and offered it to the network as a complete package. Phillips paid her own casts, announcers, production crews, and advisers (two doctors and a lawyer on retainer) and still earned $5,000 a week. She dared to depart from formula, even to the extent of occasionally turning over whole shows to Ruthledge sermons. Her organist, Bernice Yanocek, worked her other shows as well, and the music was sometimes incorporated into the storylines, as being played by Mary Ruthledge in her father’s church. A few episodes exist from the prime years. Of equal interest is an R-rated cast record, produced for Phillips when the show was moving to New York and the story was changing direction. It’s typical racy backstage stuff, full of lines like “When your bowels are in a bind, try new Duz with the hair-trigger formula.” It shows what uninhibited fun these radio people had together.