When Fame Comes Knocking at Your Door

A story that could only happen in LA

Jan 23, 2025

I went to The Moth Story Slam in LA last night. The theme was “Only in LA.”

Only 19 people vying for 10 storytelling spots on stage — alas, I didn’t get picked. But I did come home and furiously write out the story I was going to tell…

Only in LA

People come from all over the world to chase fame in Los Angeles.

But, sometimes—sometimes, if you live here—it comes knocking at your door.

I spent most of my 20s trying to see if I could make it in show business.

After being laid off from my first real job out of college, I used my severance time to take an improv class at a nearby junior college. That led to 7+ years of earnestly pursuing an entertainment career; first as an actor, then a screenwriter.

When I decide to go for something, I get serious about it, as evidenced by my first headshot:

I tried everything. Acting, improv, comedy, screenwriting, producing and directing little online “webisodes” for this new website, “YouTube.com.”

I even studied Shakespeare at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art for a term. Such a brag, I know. But honestly, I’m underplaying it. RADA is a big deal!

Fun fact: one of the other RADA students that summer was this young, really funny Korean guy with a German accent. Now, he’s this guy:

So baller! Couldn’t happen to a more thoughtful, artistic soul.

Looking back on it, I was probably pursuing fame — or a desire for external validation and relevance — as much as fulfilling artistry or even financial sustainability.

As I approached 30, I had a few glimmers of hope. I had sold a pilot script to ABC, and had a few interesting meetings, but consistent pay, much less fame, seemed very far off.

So I made a pragmatic direction change. I had a handful of freelance advertising opportunities, and I laid down my entertainment career to focus on what looked to be a creatively fulfilling, flexible, and possibly lucrative path.

There’s a common expression when you’re young and striving in the entertainment business (or creative arts)… “If you can do something else — anything else — you should do it.”

Sayings like that thin the herd.

Lessen the competition.

Get the tourists to pull the rip cord and head back home.

And it worked on me.

They got me, those rascals!

The Road Taken

Don’t get me wrong; I don’t regret my decision.

Those “freelance gigs” turned into a 150-person agency. We used all my entertainment know-how to market movies and TV shows.

It led me down a path that yielded great friends and colleagues, professional accolades, a ton of stories, and more financial success than I ever expected.

I have a great life.

A great wife and three daughters.

We live on a beautiful street in a very walkable neighborhood, in a nice Craftsman-style house with a big front porch.

(Ugh, these feel like more brags — and they are, I suppose — but I promise you, this will pay off in a few paragraphs. Stay with me.)

I have a new important job — to help these girls grow up to be functional, responsible, fulfilled, caring — and not entitled — adults.

Part of that job, especially in LA, is to help them avoid fame.

It’s tough because there is always a casting agent at the mall, who comes up to you and your kids, saying that your kid “has a great look” and that you should “bring her to an open call,” which is a “rip off” because it’s just a “feeder system” for them to “not cast her in anything,” and then ask you to pay them “lots of money” for “training” and, worst of all, “representation.”

If I wanted my kids to be child actors, I’d just skip the middleman and give them cocaine myself.

My two older girls seem to have no interest in fame-producing performance, though they ARE very interested in the arts — illustration for one, dance for the other — which delights me.

The 8-year-old, however, is another story.

You know those people who hear a song on the radio and can instantly play it on a guitar?

She can hear any one-liner on TV and repeat it over and over to get laughs.

When she was three, this kid told us that her favorite movie was "The Greatest Showman” with Hugh Jackman.

“Why is that your favorite movie?”

“I love the costumes and the dancing… and the smooching.”

She often tricks me into thinking that she’s crying, but then cracks a smile.

You know, for funsies.

If she wants to be in the ‘biz as an adult, I’m here to support that dream.

But for now, that’s gonna be a no for me.

The most famous porch in America (for a day)

“Would you be open to the show filming at your house for a day?”

A fellow dad from my kids’ school is a producer for the Jimmy Kimmel show.

He has invited my kids to be a part of filmed bits over the years, which is very nice, but, please see above.

But this time, he wanted the house—specifically, my big beautiful front porch.

The setup?

They’d shoot the weekend before Halloween, inviting kids to a special trick-or-treat-themed experience.

They’d walk up to my house, knock on the door, and (surprise!) Olivia Rodrigo would answer.

It was an easy yes. If nothing else, it felt like the perfect story-worthy “only in LA” experience.

My kids could even participate, knocking on their own door, and then get a photo with Olivia after the shoot was done. We just had to keep it a secret.

A fun twist: they didn’t know who Olivia Rodrigo is. Not really. They wouldn’t recognize her face, nor did they know her music. They just knew her name, from hearing it from other kids. But we showed them one episode of High School Musical: The Musical the night before. That felt like enough.

Bathroom Rules

After years of avoiding it, I literally welcomed fame into my house.

On the day of the shoot, dozens of production crew members descended upon my house, setting up all the hidden cameras, the “video village” in the backyard, and decorating my front yard with two trucks’ worth of props. (And they removed it all when they were done — leaving just my lowly string of orange lights! What a letdown!)

We have a guest room in our house, which would be Olivia’s dressing room — and the funny thing about this is that there’s a bathroom attached to it, which features a sign my kids made during the pandemic.

The “Bathroom Rules” are a flashback to bygone COVID-era decrees, interpreted through the lens of my children. We left them up for her to see and follow…

I stayed at the house to help as needed, but my wife took my kids out for the day. They knew nothing.

The setup took about five hours, and Olivia arrived in a black Suburban with four staffers and two bodyguards. They all seemed nice and down for whatever made the shoot go well.

Jimmy Kimmel’s sidekick Guillermo also came to the shoot. He dressed up like Olivia — and sometimes answered the door instead—to trick the kids.

He changed his clothes in my kitchen, leaning against my island, three feet away from me.

In the end, I only saw Olivia in person one time, and never talked to her.

But I saw 96% percent of Guillermo in my kitchen. (he was also very funny and very nice)

The crew was amazing. They left my house cleaner than they found it. Nothing but praise for their work.

Here’s the final product:

My two younger girls are in that video for 0.8 seconds each. Blink and you’ll miss ‘em.

The shoot was running late, and they were lumped into one big final group to come up to the front door. They were crowded out by some older girls who had figured out the secret surprise.

Olivia had to leave quickly, so they didn’t get to meet her or take a photo.

I was worried that they’d be disappointed.

I had displaced them for the day—let a TV show invade our house—all in hopes of giving them a special meet-and-greet with an international celebrity. But they didn’t get any of that.

I felt like I had let them down.

As the crew started taking down all the decorations, my wife Katie asked my youngest if she had a good time.

Her face glowed.

“That was AWESOME! That lady gave me TWO pieces of candy!”

She had no idea.

Only in LA.