The year was 2001, and I was Master of my Universe: I had just begun writing on season two of Lizzie McGuire (instead of writing three 22-episode seasons, we did two seasons of 30 and 35. Yes, insanity.) I had whittled my 200+ pounds way-out-of-shape frame down to a shade under 20% bodyfat, but by some happy accident of genetics managed to keep my impressive rack and my butt. Ah, my butt. I spent hours in the gym squatting and deadlifting so that my posterior could look like the illegitimate asschild of J-Lo and Kim Kardashian.
That week, my idol and friend Savage Steve Holland was shooting an episode that Older SlackBrother J. and I had written called "Lizzie in the Middle," where Frankie Muniz magically appears at Lizzie's school and in an implausible Notting Hill-twist-of-fate, wants to desperately date her.
The script had originally been written for Aaron Carter (yes, Disney Channel writers were penning scripts for the guy who's now best known some quality shots of him smoking weed. But his 13th birthday party had Absolut Vodka as a Corporate Sponsor. My 13th birthday party we ate pizza and watched Under the Rainbow on the VCR in my parents' basement. But I digress...) Aaron had been in a previous Lizzie episode also written by us (which also helped spark the Lohan-Duff feud!) and he wanted to be in an episode with actual lines. A two weeks later Older SlackBrother J. and I turned in our script, Welcome Back, Carter, which went down as our greatest title in the history of titles on the show.
Alas, young Aaron was busy with Seussical the Musical, so the script was put on ice until someone in the Duff camp mentioned that Hilary and Frankie Muniz were friends. They used to date, I had been told, leading me question my universe in which a 13-year-old got way more play that I did at 28. Of course, little did I know later she'd be fishing in my dating pool. Age-wise, anyway.
Rewrite it for Frankie! was the command from on high, so rewrite it for Frankie we did. D'you know how you watch TV and some Big Guest Star shows up playing yourself and you think those hacks, that would never happen! Well, I'll let you in on a little secret: the people writing it think that, too. Having a page to introduce Big Guest Star and make him fall immediately in love with your main character (and she can't disrobe) is a pretty big task, so sometimes you gotta reach into the Hack Bag of Tricks.
So that fateful day back in 2001 (or 2002? I'm pretty sure it's 2001) I head down to set to check it out. They're about to shoot the scene when Frankie's introduced and sweeps Lizzie off of her feet. I gingerly creep through the mass of cables with my cup of coffee towards the monitors. Savage waves at me and confers with an AD. Someone taps me on the shoulder.
Hi, I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm Fred. You're the writer, right?
I turn around to see Kevin Arnold himself. Fred-mothereffing-Savage.
Kevin Arnold! (But he looked more like this.)
It was dueling Savages on the set that day, as Savage, Fred was shadowing Savage Steve as Fred was planning on transitioning into TV directing.
I apologized for our lame dialogue, giving Fred the backstory and he assured me that it wasn't "that bad." I think I kicked him, and within minutes we were trading barbs, prompting the AD to threaten to kick us off the set and me to think about the time warp quality of being on a junior high set making with the snark avec Fred Savage.
He was made of awesome, and we spent the week (platonically! There was no hanky-panky!) discussing our love of Chicago food, why I should buy his hot gay car, and finally, the current lack of ass on the American Woman's Derrière.
I like a woman with some ass, he told me. Where have all the asses gone?
Maybe it's just the jeans contributing to the flatassedness of America?
I don't buy it, he told me. Look at you.
Me?
You wear those kinda jeans. And you have an amazing ass!
My ass: Fred Savage-approved!
