A Letter from Grant Tinker Changed My Life

The loss of Grant Tinker this week feels very personal to me – even though I never even met the man, and not because so many of the shows he was responsible for in the Seventies and Eighties, either as President of MTM Enterprises or Chairman and CEO of NBC, meant so much to me. How could they not? Without Tinker we may very likely never have enjoyed The Mary Tyler Moore Show, The Bob Newhart Show, Rhoda, Phyllis, Lou Grant, WKRP in Cincinnati, Hill Street Blues, St. Elsewhere, The Cosby Show, Family Ties, The Golden Girls or Cheers, among many others. Those shows weren’t just popular hits of their time – they were masterful for their day, many remaining so to this day – and most of them, during their first runs, advanced television in a way that few comedy or drama series have since, at least on broadcast television. (That's the famous group hug from the last scene of the MTM series finale above. It seems very appropriate here.)

Tinker’s death doesn't just have me recalling thousands of hours of smart television entertainment, or feeling the inevitable passing of time. It also has me thinking about my life. He never knew it, but he did as much to steer me toward my eventual career path as anyone else.

You see, back in my youth, when I was so enamored of his shows – especially Mary Tyler Moore and Bob Newhart – I decided that I, too, wanted to create quality programming for the most exciting medium that ever was or, I was sure at the time, ever would be. I had a great idea for a sitcom, which I had mapped out over four 26-episode seasons, and which in its fifth season would split into four shows consisting of the mothership (reworked into something new) and three spin-offs. What's more, in defiance of traditional network scheduling, those four half hours would share one hour of primetime real estate, running in rotation. I thought it would be revolutionary. So what if I was still in school? I knew I had a winner, and I was sure Tinker would think so, too.

I could fit on one line of a small note card my full knowledge of the TV pitch process at the time, which then as now was shrouded in mystery and illusion. All I really knew was that one could not pitch an idea directly to anyone at a network for fear (on that end) of an eventual opportunistic lawsuit. (Again, some things never change.) So I created a comic strip about me, filled with characters talking about me and raving about my idea for a TV show without betraying even a hint of what it would be about.

Maybe I should have been a cartoonist: Tinker was so impressed with my comic strip that he sent me a very personal letter, on his embossed MTM stationery, which I treasure to this day. (This is a timely opportunity to note that I also have a personal note from the very dear Florence Henderson, who was prompted to write after she laughed out loud reading a column I wrote about a particularly volatile day at a TCA tour she had attended many years ago. What a great lady she was.)

The address on the letter from Tinker was 4024 Radford Avenue in Studio City -- the West Coast home of CBS. I have been to that sprawling lot many times, but it was only during my last visit, just five months ago, that I came upon the CBS Walk of Fame (pictured below). As you can see, many of Tinker's shows are prominently displayed there.

 

Ed Martin

Ed Martin is the chief television and content critic for MediaVillage.  He has written about television and internet programming for several Myers publications since 2000, including The Myers Report, The Myers Programming Report, MediaBizBloggers a… read more