Step Off! E-Book

Dan Cortese

• Herausgeber: John Wiley & Sons
• Kategorie: Fachliteratur
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 275

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Recognized from Seinfeld and MTV, Dan Cortese now gives readers a personal and humorous look at the life and career of an American TV actor and host Fans of Veronica's Closet, MTV Sports, What I Like About You, 8 Simple Rules, and Castle will relish this exclusive account of Dan's life and career. Step Off! is a hilarious look inside the eccentric experiences of a Hollywood favorite. He discusses life from his own honest, outrageous Hollywood perspective. Cortese shares the lessons he's learned--and a few he hasn't--working on screen for over two decades as an American actor. He also reveals details about his most rewarding job: being a father. Step Off! is a side-splitting, heart-warming journey through Dan's life and career, showing the hilarious and memorable aspects of acting, fame, and striving to be a super dad. Follow the actor's path from working in a steel mill in Pittsburgh, to the rock-climbing "Mimbo" on Seinfeld, to his life as a father of three. You're sure to laugh with this noteworthy celebrity book from Dan Cortese.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover

Introduction

Part 1: Foundation

1 “Well…How Did I Get Here?”

Meet the Parents

House Party

Boys in My Hood

2 “‘Job’ Isn't Just a Book in the Bible”—No One

Be the Ball

I Don't Give a Tux

Paint, Sweat, and Beers

The Fast and Boisterous

The Heat Is On…Painted On

Sleep Cheap

3 School Daze

Seeing Is Believing, But Feeling Is Knowing

I Lived in the Principal's Office…Literally

4 Chapel Thrill

What If

Bar(pre)tender

General College

5 Reality Check

6 Ms. Jackson if You're Nasty

7 Go Big or Go Home

8 My Foundation's Foundation

Part 2: Fame

9 Go West, Young Man

10 From Full Time to Primetime

11 Vital Idol

12 Not Quite an Overnight Sensation

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

13 Bo Knows, But Bo Doesn't Know Dan

14 Rock n' Jock N' Talkin'

15 Wait… People Are Actually Watching This?

16 Intermission, aka

MTV Sports

: (A Few Random Episodes)

Pamplona, Spain

New York City

Churchill Downs, Louisville, Kentucky

Talladega Superspeedway, Talladega, Alabama

Wrigley Field, Chicago

Dublin, Ireland

17 A Whopper of a Deal

18 Fluff Your Lips and Thrust Those Hips

19 Boxers, Briefs, or Birthday Suit?

20 You're Just Not Dan Cortese Enough!

21 More Dan, But Less Melrose, I Suppose

22 Drinking with the General

23 Nip, Tuck, and Liposuck!

Part 3: Fatherhood

24 Where da Hood At?

25 Wild Child Development

26 Kid Party Clown

27 The United Colors of Cortese

28 Waiting for My Real Life to Begin

29 How To? Nope. How I Do!

30 Taking Matters into Your Own Hands

31 To Internet or Internot, That's the Question?

32 Social (Distortion) Media

33 Chill Ride? Nah, I'll Take the Thrill Ride

34 The 50-Point Jump Shot

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Index

End User License Agreement

List of Illustrations

Chapter 1

FIGURE 1.1 My parents, the real MVPs!

FIGURE 1.2 Not sure why I had my jersey unzipped; maybe I was channeling my ...

Chapter 13

FIGURE 13.1 Bo's shades were $200, mine were $9 Venice Beach spe...

Chapter 16

FIGURE 16.1 That is not a smile on my face, that's me attempting to hide the...

FIGURE 16.2 This is how you do the Kentucky Derby!

FIGURE 16.3 This was one of my favorite shows we ever filmed.

FIGURE 16.4 Not sure what hurt worse, the morning after the pub crawl or get...

Chapter 18

FIGURE 18.1 I believe this was JCPenney catalog pose #7 aka “The simultaneou...

Chapter 23

FIGURE 23.1 Escalator: 1, Dan: 0.

Chapter 33

FIGURE 33.1 We got this!

Guide

Cover

Table of Contents

Begin Reading

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“Dan is a legend. Growing up in Pittsburgh during the 80s and 90s, it was all about MTV and Rock n' Jock. My friends and I always loved that Dan flew his home town flag proudly and I always paid attention and was proud whenever he showed up on TV. He always looked like he was having so much fun and after reading Step Off! apparently, he still is!”

—Joe Manganiello, actor and producer

“Dan has always been an intelligent, cool and fun guy. Step Off! allows you to take a front row seat to Dan's hilarious, insightful, and wisdom filled account of how he navigates the ups and downs of Hollywood, life and fatherhood.”

—Heather Dubrow. TV personality, author and host of Heather Dubrow's World podcast.

“When I was an athlete in college I and all my friends wanted to be Dan Cortese. He was the coolest guy with the greatest job living the dream. We knew the guy we saw on tv but years later after getting to know Dan and reading his book I discovered that the real Dan Cortese is even better—deeper, more reflective, funny, loving and spiritual. Step Off! is one of the best books I've read in a long time. I loved learning how Dan became the icon he is but my favorite part was learning about the man he's become. Read this book! You will love it!”

—Jon Gordon, best-selling author of The Energy Bus and Training Camp.

“Congrats to Dan on writing this book! As a fellow MTV alum, I loved hearing about his journey and life lessons with all the 80s and 90s references sprinkled in —those were the days even if some of the outfits are regrettable! We've known each other both as MTV neophytes and later as Malibu parents. What has always been apparent is Dan's penchant for fun and his “why not?” approach to life. Thanks again for reminding us that the glass is half full and giving us some great laughs along the way.”

—Cindy Crawford, model and entrepreneur

“Heartfelt, hilarious, reflective and on point, Step Off! moved me from start to finish! As a brand new father, the message and timing of this book could not be more divine… its spiritual without being ‘spiritual’ it provokes without being preachy and Cortese's positive outlook and focus on gratitude was a great reminder of how to be human and in Dan's case, a very good one. His message of hard work, discipline and grace made me evaluate my own life and consider what it means to be a man. His openness and positivity will help others embrace their vulnerability and that's a gift. And make no mistake, he ain't no mimbo—Dan's the real deal and this is an absolute must read!”

—Jonas Elrod, writer/director of Wake Up —In Deep Shift—Conscious Animal

DAN CORTESE

STEP OFF!

My Journey from ‘Mimbo’ to Manhood

Copyright © 2020 by John Wiley & Sons, Inc. All rights reserved.

Published by John Wiley & Sons, Inc., Hoboken, New Jersey.

Published simultaneously in Canada.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Cortese, Dan, 1967- author.

Title: Step off! : my journey from mimbo to manhood / Dan Cortese.

Description: First edition. | Hoboken : Wiley, 2020. | Includes index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2020004338 (print) | LCCN 2020004339 (ebook) | ISBN 9781119653479 (cloth) | ISBN 9781119653462 (adobe pdf) | ISBN 9781119653486 (epub)

Subjects: LCSH: Cortese, Dan, 1967- | Actors—United States—Biography.

Classification: LCC PN2287.C6315 A3 2020 (print) | LCC PN2287.C6315 (ebook) | DDC 792.02/8092 [B]—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020004338

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020004339

COVER IMAGE: COURTESY OF ENDEAVOR

COVER DESIGN: PAUL McCARTHY

This book is dedicated to my children, Roman, India, and Enzo. You are the lights that ignite my soul and the love that fills my heart. I am blessed and honored to be your father.

Introduction

(January 6, 1994—9:00 p.m.) An episode of the sitcom Seinfeld titled “The Stall” aired on NBC's Thursday night, “Must See TV” lineup. Like so many people, it was my favorite show on television at the time, and I was making my sitcom debut on this particular episode. I was portraying Elaine's somewhat-vapid, thrill-seeking boyfriend, Tony, who was armed with a catchphrase symbolic of the 1990s. “Step off!” Was I excited? As I was taught to say at the University of North Carolina, “You're darn tootin', fig newton!”—which I believe means, yes. As far as television “street cred” went in the 90s, there was none better than appearing on Seinfeld. Obviously, there was no social media at the time, so if you wanted to get yourself “out there” and recognized as a comedic actor, this was the transcendent show to do it on.

Somewhere around the 6:41 mark in the program, a new word was introduced into pop culture folklore. Jerry and Elaine were sitting in his car discussing the reason she was dating Tony. Jerry was adamant it was only for his looks, then he uttered the line, “Elaine, he's a male bimbo…he's a mimbo.” The line got a huge laugh and rightfully so, but little did I know, that word spoken on that night would change my life forever.

The following morning, I was leaving a doctor's office in Beverly Hills, where I'd just finished getting a “cast physical” for a new CBS series that I was set to star in with one of my idols, the legendary George C. Scott. I put “cast physical” in quotes because the only thing physical about it was the handshake that doctor I-once-played-a-pimp-on-an-episode-of-Kojak gave me before signing off on my medical well-being. After he filled out all of my paperwork, he felt the need to drop another nugget from his “Tinsel Town” resume, when he dove into some salacious Playboy Mansion–like details about being Bachelor #2 on The Dating Game. I chose that as the perfect time to politely excuse myself. “Have fun with George C., I hear he's a goddamn piece of work,” he said, to which I replied, “And you have fun with the pimping; I hear it ain't easy.” The echoes of him laughing and spewing on about the research he'd done for the role filled the waiting room like a fart in a Prius.

I left the building, and as I approached my car outside the offices I heard someone yell, “Hey mimbo, step off!” I turned to see a middle-aged white guy whose name I would have bet $100 was Khaki McDockers. It wasn't; good thing I didn't bet. He quickly approached me and giddily shrieked, “Oh my God, it is you. The mimbo!” It was at that moment I realized that, thanks to the power of network television and the comedic brilliance of Jerry Seinfeld, the original mimbo was born…me.

Cut to 25 years later, now at the ripe mimbo-fied age of 52, I sit with my iPhone in hand, stressing over which one of two photos would be the more appropriate #TBT post, when I received an email. I wisely chose a baby pic to minimize the troll traffic, then proceeded to check the email. I was happily surprised to see it was from my friend and Instagram bud, Matt Holt, aka senior vice president and executive publisher for Wiley Publishing. This wasn't the typical type of email I'd get from Matt; this one was rather concise and to the point. He'd seen via social media that my third child had just been born and it gave him an idea, so he decided to cast a line. “Have you ever thought about writing a book? Something fun. Something a little more positive than what's out there and a lot more Dan.”

Truthfully, over the years the thought had crossed my mind, but that was about it. However, this made things a bit more real, and given the fact that this was someone I truly respected in the publishing world bringing the idea to me, as opposed to the other way around, I felt I'd be doing myself a disservice if I didn't seriously consider it. After going back and forth for a few weeks about the concept, direction, and all the dynamics that go into this process, I was still on the fence. Matt kept coming back to the idea of “a book about Dan.” I kept thinking, “A book about Dan. What does he mean by that? I am Dan, and quite frankly, even I'm confused by it.” So, I politely said, “We've spoken quite a few times over the years, but have never met face to face. Be perfectly honest with me, because I'm curious. What do you think I'm like as a person?” It was a legitimate question, and I thought his response might help me better understand his vision. He proceeded to tell me that after asking around and speaking with some colleagues, he thought that I would be “a lot like the character I played on that episode of Seinfeld, a fun guy who's fun to be around, someone who likes to hang out and have a good time.” Unfortunately, through all of his compliments, all I heard was, “You're a male bimbo, you're a mimbo.” I wasn't insulted by what he thought I might be like, but I knew I wasn't that character. I knew there was so much more to me than that…or was there?

About a week later, Matt introduced me, via email, to best-selling author, speaker, and positivity guru Jon Gordon. If you haven't read any of his books, do so. You can thank me later. After many unnecessary, kind words, he let Jon know, “If you want to know more about Dan, just Google him.” Which I decided to do. That's right, I Googled myself, just like every narcissistic actor in Hollywood does on a weekly basis. I wanted to see what Jon would find out about who Dan “really is.” In .39 seconds Google proudly displayed that I'm “Tony the mimbo, from Seinfeld,” “Jake's brother on Melrose Place,” “The Whopper Guy,” and apparently “Stefon on SNL mentions Dan Cortese and Twitter goes wild.”

Now, while I am truly proud of all of those moments in my life, they more or less define what I've done, not who I am. But the more I thought about it, I realized that how I perceive myself, how I think others perceive me, and how others actually do perceive me, are more than likely, three entirely separate views. So, after speaking with my family, it was with a rather clear realization that I told my friend Matt, “Yes, I'll write the book.” I came to the conclusion that if I'm not happy with the narrative of my own story, then maybe I should become the narrator.

If I truly want to do this right, then I'm going to need some honest introspection. So I've put together a collection of life experiences, told as how my brain has chosen to recollect them. As life rapidly passes us by, too often we take the tiny pieces, those little moments, and discard them to the side as if they were irrelevant and unnecessary. This book is a chance for me to do something that all of us should do at some point on our journeys—sit down with open, honest eyes and lay out all of the puzzle pieces of our life on the table. Once you've put them back together, does that finished puzzle look like what you thought it would, or does it look entirely different? Just like any of us who have lived a full life, that's what I'm anxious to find out.

This exploration is an attempt for me to figure out who I really am, and in doing so, will hopefully inspire others to take the time to put their puzzle pieces back together as well. Foundation, Fame, and Fatherhood, this is my journey from mimbo to manhood. At least, that's what I'm hoping takes place, because a journey from mimbo to older mimbo would be pretty damn depressing.

Part 1Foundation

1“Well…How Did I Get Here?”

“Where we've been is just as important as where we want to go.”

Looking back at my life thus far, I have a rather simplistic view of myself. I'm just an average guy who always tried to do what was right and along the way was fortunate enough to live out a dream. But even now, with every new day that dawns, I'm trying to the best of my abilities to navigate this journey for myself and my family. As everyone knows, deep down inside, this shit ain't easy. If you look at people's Instagram pages, though, apparently it's a damn piece of cake. The problem is, I don't eat cake, and (as I think most of us are), I'm just trying to figure it all out as I go along. That being said, here's a brief peek at a few verbal polaroids from my childhood to help you, and me, better understand the Dan that sits here today writing this book.

Meet the Parents

You can't achieve too much success in life without some type of positive foundation. Therefore, meet my positive foundation, my parents Vince and Mary Lou, college sweethearts who have now been happily married for 63 years and are still going strong (Figure 1.1). They've always shown love and respect for each other. Even to this day, any time the song “Heaven Must Be Missing an Angel” by Tavaras comes on, they will bust some sick, impromptu dance moves. Not sure why, but my brain loves the random memory of them going all Dancing with the Stars in our living room to that jam.

FIGURE 1.1 My parents, the real MVPs!

Growing up, my parents were my everything. They were fun, fair, very loving people who always put the kids first and eternally had our backs in the most Godfather-like of ways. Both of them worked multiple jobs and constantly busted their asses to provide as best they could for all of us…and they still do.

Looking back at it now, even when we went without, we never felt as though we did. If you think about it, making the worst of times feel like the best of times is a pretty damn amazing quality to have as a parent. It's one that I strive to achieve anytime it's necessary to do so with my own children.

My mother is the sweetest, yet strongest, woman you could ever meet. She's always donning a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. A cancer survivor with a kind, caring soul who has always been deeply involved with the church. She's not only an incredibly talented seamstress but for years she taught at a school for disabled and special needs children. If there was ever anything we needed, even if it was just a shoulder to cry on, she was there. Her love and support for all of us was the glue that kept our family together.

My father is an Italian immigrant who came to America at the age of six. He was the youngest of seven children and learned how to speak English by being thrust into school a few days after he arrived in the states. Growing up, he diligently went to school during the day, then to work afterward with his father, who was a property caretaker for a few of the wealthier families in town. Because of this, he was forced to accept adult-like responsibilities at a rather young age. But even with all of that on his plate, he persevered and still managed to become the only person in his family to go to and graduate from college. He was our rock, and his love and strength were the foundation that our family was built upon.

House Party

I was the youngest of four children, three boys and one girl, a 10-year difference between myself and my oldest brother, Jim. I wouldn't say I was a “mistake,” but I treated my parents to a vacation in Italy a few years ago and after a couple glasses of 1989 Brunello truth serum, my dad admitted to me with a laugh, “I had no idea where the hell you came from!” Check, please!

Needless to say, there was never a dull moment at Casa Cortese, and if any of the boys stepped out of line, my sister, Dianne, was always there to kick any or all of our asses back in it, if need be. A beautiful, caring girl with a heart of gold who never took shit from anyone. For real, if you don't believe me, just ask our neighbor, Chuckie C. who ended up face down in the sewer after bullying her while she was walking home from middle school.

We all grew up in a small suburb, twenty minutes west of downtown Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and had an extremely loving, humble home. By “humble,” I mean, six people, one bathroom, well-water humble. To be clear, it wasn't like a Little House on the Prairie well. I didn't wear a bonnet and walk through fields of barley with a wooden bucket fetching water for Ma and Pa. Okay…actually, it was kind of like that, but I was wearing a bandanna instead of a bonnet. Been keeping it real since day one. I only bring all of this up to convey that we were an extremely tight knit family—tighter knit than a Jersey Shore Spring Break wardrobe. (Sorry, but for every semi-Italian reference I make, I get a free slice from Mike's Place.)

Boys in My Hood

It's been said, probably by me, that 50 percent of an individual's personality is genetic and the other 50 percent is created by their environment and the people who surround them. To be clear, I don't consider the people I grew up around to be “salt of the earth” types—they're more along the lines of “hot pepper of the earth” types. If you have them in moderation, they're the perfect accompaniment to add a little spice to any and all situations. Too much of them, or if you cross them, and they'll light up your ass. Believe me when I say, these people are the best people I've ever been around, and I wouldn't trade them for anything or anyone. Having lived in Los Angeles for the last 30 years I've come to appreciate just how real the people of Pittsburgh and all of western Pennsylvania are. They don't just have your back—they've got your front, too.

Snapshot, early Summer evening 1979 in Leetsdale, Pennsylvania. Not only was it hot, it was humid AF, as the kids say. The combined odors of pollution, popcorn, Marlboros, and cotton candy fool your brain into believing that this is what fresh air actually smells like. The seats are full, lights are on, and the Quaker Valley Little League All-Star game is in full effect.

The field is located right along the Ohio River Boulevard, a highway that was western Pennsylvania's version of the Autobahn. Just imagine a live version of Mario Kart, only with Buick Electras and AMC Pacers pieced together with duct tape and painted-over putty bumpers hauling ass everywhere. Next to the highway were the train tracks, next to the train tracks was the Ohio River and the only fish you saw in there in 1979 were floating on the top. Across the river were massive billowing smokestacks from a seven-mile stretch of steel mills. I'm sure the sunset was beautiful. It just wasn't usually powerful enough to pierce through the smoke, but on the rare occasion that it did, it gave the field an incredibly cool and probably toxic Studio 54 vibe, so yeah…just like Studio 54.

Parents at that time weren't like today's parents. They didn't try to outdo each other by explaining how their kid had a trainer and a nutritionist and was “going pro.” (Note to today's parents, 99.99 percent of your kids aren't going pro, so spend more time teaching them to be kind to people.) These parents actually got along, had fun, laughed, cheered, smoked, drank, ate fattening food, and enjoyed the moments together as a community—and all this was just at one Little League game. You should see a Steelers Sunday!

Cut to the final inning of the game, runners on second and third, two outs, we're down 11-10. A 12-year-old, bucktoothed me stepped out of the graffiti-covered dugout and headed toward the batter's box. This was going to be my Rock n' Jock foreshadowing moment, I was going to jack a three-run homer, win the game for us, and walk off with the MVP trophy. In my mind, the cheering crowd of 200 felt more like 20,000. As I stepped into the batter's box, I heard a noise that sounded like what I'd imagine a dolphin would make during a prostate exam. It was our third-base coach, Doc, screaming, “Danny! Danny!” He was flailing his arms so hard there was a good chance he might take flight.

A few things you should know about Doc: He was a lovable guy, the town's OB-GYN, he was accident prone, built like a Weeble, and just hearing his Mr. Bill–like high-pitched voice brought a smile to your face. And—oh yeah—his almost-empty 7Up can was completely full of gin just two innings ago AND he knew absolutely nothing about baseball.

When he saw me looking his way, he screamed, “BUNT!” Parents started to laugh. So did the umpire, so did Doc. He never used signals for the batters, reasoning, “I can't remember the goddamn things.” So he giggled, shrugged, and yelled again, “Seriously, bunt it!” I called a timeout and jogged down to him, and he put his arm around me. I swear I caught a respectable frat party–like buzz from his hush-toned breath.

Doc: “I want you to bunt the ball.”

Me: “What?”

Doc: “Yep, bunt the peloto.”

Me: “Peloto?”

Doc: “I think it's Spanish, I'm not sure, I know it's not Chinese. Just bunt it…like a bundt cake. No one will ever expect it. Plus, I really have to pee.”

He slapped my helmet, sent me off, and yelled, “I say B you say unt. B-unt. B-unt!” over and over. The crowd was loving Doc's antics, and as I stepped back into the batter's box, the infielders moved back, thinking it was a ploy. The pitcher went into his wind up and threw a delicious high fastball just like I liked them. I was about to knock the cover off of the ball, but then something happened that I didn't expect to happen. I bunted the freakin' ball! Don't ask me why, but it dribbled down the first base line so slowly, a 90-year-old man taking a piss would've even glanced and smirked. Our runner on third started streaking toward home (not a 1970s kind of streaking, he was just running really fast). I vaguely remember the cheers from the crowd being oddly split between “Go!” and “Are you fucking kidding me!” The pitcher barehanded the ball, threw it home, it sailed over the catcher's head, hit a pole on the backstop and ricocheted like a bullet out near second base. As I got to first base, our second runner, whose name I can't remember, but I do know he was Polish, slid across home plate. Game over, we win, pandemonium ensues! I looked toward third base and Doc was nowhere to be found. Apparently, his two-way pager was blowing up the entire final inning and he had to go deliver twins. As an ironic side note…I won the damn MVP (Figure 1.2).

FIGURE 1.2 Not sure why I had my jersey unzipped; maybe I was channeling my inner Tom Jones.

2“‘Job’ Isn't Just a Book in the Bible”—No One

As an adult, there's one thing that I'm definitely thankful for from my childhood—it's the fact that my parents instilled their work ethic in myself and my siblings. I had many jobs growing up, but here's a snapshot of a few that made the cut and laid a few more bricks onto the foundation of my life.

It was a Saturday in June 1980. A 12-year-old me and my brother Chip were watching one of our favorite shows, Soul Train. We watched religiously, specifically to learn any and all new dance moves every week and to get wardrobe ideas. That particular day, right after The Bar Kays crushed a sick, lip-synced performance of “Move Your Boogie Body” laced with ample amounts of red satin and relaxer (YouTube it; you'll thank me later) a commercial came on that changed my life.