Free Merv by Merv Griffin

that they wondered openly if they’d made a big mistake in committing to Carson so early.
    So they decided to hedge their bets by offering me an hour-long daytime talk show that would air at two in the afternoon, one of the worst time slots imaginable. It would begin in the fall, on the same day that Johnny Carson would take over The Tonight Show .
    I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of launching a new show simultaneously with Carson’s debut, but as Bob Shanks (a devout Cubs fan) astutely observed, “Merv, they want you warming up in the bullpen in case Johnny gets shelled.”
    One big incentive for me to take NBC’s offer was that I could package and produce the show myself. I’d formed Merv Griffin Productions for just that purpose. Not only was this a good idea economically, but it would also provide me with the kind of creative control that would make the show fun to do.
    If the deal was to work, there were a number of points that needed to be ironed out. My attorney, Roy Blakeman, had been talking with Herb Schlosser, the network executive (later NBC president) who’d been given the task of signing me.
    While negotiations were going back and forth between Roy and Herb, I happened to be in one of the NBC control rooms. A monitor was carrying the closed circuit feed from the network affiliates convention in Houston. I wasn’t paying much attention until I heard my name mentioned.
    “And starting in October, Merv Griffin will be a wonderful addition to our daytime schedule.” I will?
    The president of NBC had just announced me in their lineup when I hadn’t yet signed a contract. That was good news for me. Even better, nobody at NBC—particularly Herb Schlosser—had any way of knowing that I possessed this valuable information.
    I called Roy Blakeman and, telling him what I’d heard, informed him that “I’m going with you to meet with Herb Schlosser.”
    Roy was horrified. “Merv, you can’t. Talent never participates in negotiations. It’s not done.”
    I said, “Well, there’s a first time for everything. What time is the meeting?”
    The following day we arrived at Schlosser’s office and Roy whispered to me, “Let me do the talking, Merv. I think they’re going to make us a very good offer.” I didn’t say anything, so Roy assumed that I’d be a good boy and sit quietly while the grown-ups took care of business.
    Schlosser put his offer on the table. Eight thousand dollars a week for me as the host.
    “That’s awfully generous, Herb.” Roy was smiling. He’d been right. Or so he thought. “Are you happy with that, Merv?” he asked in a slightly patronizing tone.
    “Of course not.” I was implacable. Now they were both looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.
    Then Herb Schlosser asked, “How much do you want, Merv?”
    “Eighteen thousand.”
    “What? Merv, that’s impossible,” sputtered Schlosser. “Nobody makes that kind of money.”
    “Well, Herb, I don’t care about nobody . I know what my record was for you during the summer and I want $18,000 a week. That’s it. There’s no more negotiation. My lawyer may have told you that $8,000 was a generous offer, but I didn’t say that. It’s $18,000. Let me know what you decide.”
    I got up, shook hands with Schlosser, and left the office. Roy followed me out into the hallway, shaking his head. “Merv…” he began.
    I cut him off. “Don’t even start, Roy. I know what I’m doing. And next time check with me before you accept an offer on my behalf, okay?”
    Needless to say, NBC caved. As I’d guessed, they were over a barrel having already announced me to their affiliate stations.
    When Herb Schlosser called to tell me that NBC had agreed to my terms, he said, “Merv, if you ever decide not to perform anymore, I’d hire you in a second for our negotiating team.”
    I caught one more unexpected break in putting the deal together. Of all places, it came from the United States Supreme Court. They’d