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Mr. G and Me in NYC to Film 20/20!

ABC News called the other day wanting to interview me on the topic of anabolic steroids for its 20/20 news show with John Stossel.  Stossel, a known Libertarian in the industry, was intrigued by the idea of doing a positive segment on anabolic steroid use in adult men after Romano-Stossel-Gseeing the movie, Bigger, Stronger, Faster.  The producer of the show asked if I knew another older guy in great shape and with tons of enthusiasm.  After thinking for a whole 2 seconds, I called up Mr. G and explained to the producers that the two of us (with a combined age of exactly 100 years) were well-preserved examples of hormone replacement recipients.  The plan was to fly me to New York City first thing Monday morning.....

 

My alarm clock rang at a quarter-to-four in the morning.  I know that's early, but the reality is worse. I usually stop working on my computer and go to bed around three or three-thirty every evening. That's just my schedule!  Forcing myself to go to bed earlier didn't work.  By the time the alarm went off, I'd gotten less than an hour's sleep.  I drove to the airport, hopped on a plane, flew to NYC, met Mr. G at Farrara's bakery in Little Italy and started guzzling double espressos.  Mr. G did too. And that probably wasn't a good idea (I'll explain later).  We made it to the Reebok Sport Center on Pier 59 just as the 20/20 crew was setting up.  We filmed the segment with John Stossel and then hopped into a limo with the show's producer to John's Pizza on Bleeker St. where we downed a well done brick oven pizza with Fresh mozzarella, a side of meatballs, and a salad; all of which Mr. G chewed only with his front teeth (I'll explain later).  I dove back in the limo to the airport... back on the plane...   and now I'm back here in my office in Florida writing of my adventure 22 hours after it began.  Indeed the next few hours will be tedious as I inch toward the 48-hour mark with only an hour's sleep. My eyes are little red slits.... And they itch....... And they keep trying to close...  But I just know if I retire now I will toss and turn all night.  I just have to say this all now while it's still fresh in my mind and my stomach still hurts from laughing so hard  (not from the pizza).

 

The consolation prize for me to make such a grueling trek-- apart from getting the opportunity to pimp RX Muscle and Species Nutrition on 20/20-- was getting to have a cheat day. And if you like food then you know there's no place on earth like New York City to eat.  My flight was so freak'n early that I was in down-town Manhattan 4 1/2 hours before I needed to be.  So, I walked up Canal street and took a right on Mott Street.... smack dab into the heart of Chinatown.  I went to the first open Tea house I found and was quickly united with the most succulent order of roast duck-- with its skin crisp and crackling, and a wonton soup with shrimp and pork.  It was heaven; topped off with a winter melon cookie, fresh from the bakery across the street.  I walked back up Mott Street to Canal, took a right and then a left on the next block which is Mulberry Street-- into the heart of Little Italy.  Then my cell phone rang.  It was Mr. G. "I'm at Penn station, where are you?"  That was my first bit of bad news.

 

Dave was supposed to come with Mr. G.  He knew a whole day would be brutal to spend alone with Mr. G.  So Dave promised he'd hop in Mr. G's van with him in the morning and ride in so there was another one of us to deflect Mr. G's sometimes (usual) runaway passion he exudes when he's got his mind made up.  But, as luck would have it, the injury to Dave's leg which has required that he wear that white sock-- of which Jimmy the Bull is so fond and has made famous on HMR-- has lead to some sort of cellulitis-- or something-- that Dave is apparently dying of.  If not dying then certainly deteriorating sufficiently to abandon his partner and stay home. It was 9:30 AM and Mr. G was already midtown at Penn Station, and he was looking for me....   I had to face Mr. G on the streets of Manhattan; alone.  And I had to do an interview with him and John Stossel for 20/20.  I was about to spend nine hours with Mr. G in Manhattan  on less than an hour's sleep..... with him pumped about being on 20/20 because he thought he was going to train Barbara Walters on TV.  Where he got that idea no one knows because she had nothing to do with this.....  Ughhhh..

 Time to start guzzling espresso.  I walked down Mulberry two blocks to Grand and took a right and ducked into Ferrara's bakery.  I told Mr. G. to meet me there, and I ordered a double espresso.

 

MrGRomanoStossselDam that coffee was strong! Midway through my second double, I looked up and the entire doorway filled with fun. Mr. G had arrived! And he wasn't in costume; I almost didn't recognize him.  He sat down and ordered coffee.  If he wasn't already on level 10 from fashioning his concept for the day on the ride over-- "85% of your results in the gym are in your refrigerator,"-- the dangerous addition of caffeine to the already volatile mix kicked it up a notch and the 85% thing became his mantra.  He explained it to everyone along the way-- our cute little Italian server who could barely speak English, the cab driver (who also spoke English as a second language), the crew, the director, the producer, two figure babes in the gym, and this guy in the locker room that looked like he spent the winter in Auschwitz (with whom he later snapped a photo of flexing his 4 inch arm with a species shaker cup in hand).

 

Mr. G finished his coffee and took out a couple of Dave's RTDs.  He handed me one and cracked open a bottle of water before he passed it to me.  I mixed mine up as Mr. G takes out a container of almonds, pops the top and throws a rather large handful into his mouth.  He then proceeds to chew this mouthful of nuts only with his front teeth.  I couldn't help reacting to the ludicrous face Mr. G was making while he chewed a big mouthful of almonds with his front teeth.  He stopped and realized I was looking at him.  He had a look of slight confusion; then he busted out laughing, sending crudely masticated almond shards across the table.  "I have no back teeth!" he shouted as another shower of almond spicules rained on my face. 

 

No back teeth? Who the fuck doesn't have back teeth?  ....How do you end up with no back teeth?  Front teeth, I can understand... but no back teeth?  He chews almonds with his front teeth... and never stops talking.... You have no idea! 

 

It was about noon when we took off from Ferrara's.  We had two hours to travel about 30 blocks so I figured we'd walk, much to Mr. G's chagrin.  He doesn't do cardio.  Luckily for Mr. G, the producer called and asked if we could be on location a little earlier.  Mr. G was so relieved he didn't have to walk the additional 28 blocks.  He hailed a cab faster than I've ever seen in my life and we were on our way uptown.  We got to Pier 59 just in time for Mr. G to finish his 85% speech-- which left our Pakistani cabdriver racing to get home so he could jump into his refrigerator and emerge looking like Mr. G.

 

We found our way to the 20/20 crew.  They were sitting in a dining area adjacent to a very high end juice bar having their lunch break.  Mr. G found the director and started talking to him.  Before long I heard "85%" and I suggested we leave this guy alone-- let him eat--  and go and change for our workout (the setup was that while Mr. G and I worked out, John Stossel would come up to us and we'd start talking about steroids and the interview would proceed from there).

 

CameraRomanoIn the locker room Mr. G found a concentration camp survivor.  This guy was four steps from the Sloan-Kettering  radiation department and Mr. G keeps telling this guy what a great athlete he looks like and asks what sport he plays.  "Distance running" was the answer.  Well that's all it took, and before long I was hearing "...85%" again.  Ughhh.... I got dressed and wanted to get back out but Mr. G wanted his picture taken with this guy in the locker room. So they did a make-shift Species ad together.  Priceless. 

 

The guy in the locker room got Mr. G completely warmed up so when he got out of the locker room he hunted down the director so he could finish the 85% speech he had started earlier, but, instead, found himself getting involved in several other 85% talks, simultaneously, with the cameramen and sound guys.  Oh, man, "...85%" was being tossed around left and right.  Mr. G was on a roll, he was jacked up on coffee, Coca-cola, and a good dose of his incredible moxy.  By the time the entire crew understood that 85% of what you get out of the gym is in your refrigerator, we started filming. 

 

They wanted to shoot some B-roll of us training, first.  Mr. G was very disappointed and made mention of the fact that the producer told him "no costumes, no wigs." Well, the camera added 25% to everything Mr. G could lift.  At one point he was at such a fever pitch that he did a set of concentration curls with 60 pound dumbbells and got like 12 of them on each side - screaming like a lunatic.  After every set that they filmed, Mr. G would stand up and bark into the camera like a pro wrestler and flex and pose and proclaim that 85% of what you get from the gym can be found in your refrigerator.  Then John Stossel showed up with this look on his horrified look on his face. He must have been asking himself, "Is the circus I'm presiding over?"

 

Stossel ended up being really cool and really interested in everything we had to say.  Even the very long-winded answers Mr. G gave were at least entertaining enough to be allowed to find their illogical conclusion with Stossel pretty much riveted the entire time. He was definitely entertained.  He even listened to the 85% speech. 

 

There were two highlights though.  Stossel (which Mr. G repeatedly pronounced as Stoss-ile) was wearing a long sleeved sweat shirt and Mr. G was able to get him to take it off and show his arms.  Then Mr. G suggested that the 62 year-old Stossel should do pull ups from the rafter-- old school.  Stossel complied and there is a great scene with Mr. G spotting Stossel while he does wide grip pull-ups from the hanging rafter of wood.  Immediately afterwards I saw Mr. G showing Stossel pictures on his cell phone of a half naked girl he calls the "Jewish Sex Addict."  When that didn't go over well, he ran to his bag, got out his Arnold mask, put it on, and started talking to "John Stoss-ile" doing his Arnold impersonation-one of the worst ever.  That pretty much put a fork in Stossel. 

 

The other touching moment occurred right before he left. Mr. G had found out that this would be the last shoot for one of the cameramen.  He was retiring from ABC after 40 years.  Mr. G thought that was incredible and insisted that we shoot John Stoss-ile and the camera man together, with  their arms around each other giving him a tribute for all the years he put in with ABC.  G just took over the camera crew and stated directing! He got the retiring camera man all emotional with his speech; yet he knew nothing about the man, nothing about his career and his history was way off when Mr. G was quoting shows that the cameraman probably shot, but didn't.  Regardless, the camera man, so moved by the moment, with John Stossel's arm over his shoulder, got all choked up and shed a big crocodile tear.  The director said they'd probably use the video for his retirement dinner!  I have to say that John Stossel was a good sport and I'm confident the interview will be entertaining, to say the least.

 

I got a chance to talk to Stossel for a little while after the shoot.  He was really interested in the whole steroid deal with the government.  He listened intently at my description of how the 1991 steroid laws were passed; and how due-process was denied, procedures were ignored, and relevant findings from departmental studies dismissed.  He was totally in agreement that if adult men want to use steroids, they should be able to.  We'll see how well we got the message across when the piece airs on ABC May 1st.  Keep your fingers crossed.

 

My car had to leave Manhattan at 5:00pm if I was going to get to Newark on time to catch my 7:00pm flight.  That left us an hour and a half to eat.  PIZZA!  Mr. G, the producer, and I jumped into my car and headed south to Bleeker Street and Seventh Avenue.  We stopped in front of John's famous brick oven pizza.  I think I ate like 6 slices.... ughhhh it was so good.  I also got to hear the 85% thing again when Mr. G got the waiter in a head lock. Right at 5:00pm my car pulled up.  We said good-bye and I took off while Mr. G and the producer jumped in a cab uptown to drop G off at Penn.  I don't know for sure but I'm willing to bet that cab driver also got the 85% speech.

 

Okay... that's it.  I'm utterly exhausted.  Mr. G is a trip... I love the guy... But he just really takes a lot out of you.  Dave agrees with me.  I am sincerely more concerned for Dave's injury.  I'll excuse him for not showing up.  I'm a stronger man for it. I'd just like Dave to respond here by concurring with me about Mr. G.  I don't want him to think I'm picking on him. He totally made the trip fun.  I'm exhausted, but it was well worth it! [ed. note:  Mr. G is a misunderstood entertainment genius.  His passion, love, and belief in himself make him a truly unique person.  Having said that, 6 hours with him is a lifetime is he's running on all cylinders; 100% warp speed.]

 

May 1st on ABC!

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