in America and have been for sixteen years. It’s a huge corporation, yet it’s like a family. They care about people.
But I’m a realist. I’m employed to do a job, so if it’s not right for their network and I am going to get them in trouble by expressing a certain viewpoint, then of course they’ll say something. They tell me all the time, ‘OK, you’ve taken it too far, don’t do that, it’s not right for our viewers.’ They know better than me, and I damn well listen. I’d be stupid not to. Again, it’s that fine line between not being too outrageous, but not ending up with five co-hosts all sitting there too terrified to open their mouths in case it upsets one woman in Baltimore.
Last summer, we had a woman called Rielle Hunter on as a guest. She had written a ‘spiritual’ book about her affair with married Republican senator John Edwards, whose wife Elizabeth had had breast cancer and has since died. She had been unkind about Elizabeth in the book, which I thought was beyond inappropriate. It was disgusting. To my mind, she pursued him and was no better than a political groupie. She waited for him outside a hotel then gave her phone number to his assistant, for God’s sake. Very unlikeable behaviour. So there she was, telling her story, and I just thought she wasn’t being honest, and said so.
‘Do you talk with forked tongue? That’s what I want to know, Rielle.’
She started to cry, but honestly – what did she expect? If you’re going to come on a show with five other women and tell us about your affair with the husband of a woman with four kids who is dying of cancer, well, sorry, missy, you’re going to get some stick. There was no way I was going to sit there and be false. If you’re going to write a book about having an affair, own it. Say that you know it’s not right and that he probably fed you a load of old lies about his wife, as they always do. But don’t sit there and try to justify it.
After the show, the feedback revealed that most of the viewers agreed with me, and the show’s bosses were obviously OK with it too, because I didn’t get told off!
But it’s a paradox; what I love about the show – that we are all mates and comfortable with each other – can also be my undoing, because I sometimes forget that there are people at home listening to our every word.
For me, The Talk has been like finding a home. I feel I belong. And I feel accepted. It’s grounded me. Of course I still get great satisfaction out of working in the music industry, but only so far as the projects involve my husband. For everything else, I’ve seen it all before a million times. I’ve worked with some of the most legendary artists in the business. But if it wasn’t for Ozzy, I could quite happily close the door and wave it all goodbye.
After all my TV endeavours, I have finally found somewhere I feel truly comfortable. Julie Chen is a self-made woman who has learnt her craft of journalism the hard way. I’ve watched her blossom into the hilariously funny, sexy presenter that she is today. She’s the glue that holds the show together, the quintessential professional. Off camera she’s as funny as fuck, and I trust her implicitly.
As for Sara Gilbert, my darling little lesbian who first had the courage to hire me, she reminds me of a baby bird in a nest and I always want to protect her. She’s wickedly funny and has a very naughty, dirty sense of humour and amazing comic timing. She became a star at a very early age, but through it all she has managed to stay grounded and is probably one of the wisest women I have ever known. I admire her immensely, as she came out openly on the show, which can’t have been easy. She has two beautiful young children and she talks honestly about her sexual orientation, and in doing so I know that she’s helped thousands of young people feel comfortable with who they are. Also, for a working actress to come out in such a public way is taking a huge
But I’m a realist. I’m employed to do a job, so if it’s not right for their network and I am going to get them in trouble by expressing a certain viewpoint, then of course they’ll say something. They tell me all the time, ‘OK, you’ve taken it too far, don’t do that, it’s not right for our viewers.’ They know better than me, and I damn well listen. I’d be stupid not to. Again, it’s that fine line between not being too outrageous, but not ending up with five co-hosts all sitting there too terrified to open their mouths in case it upsets one woman in Baltimore.
Last summer, we had a woman called Rielle Hunter on as a guest. She had written a ‘spiritual’ book about her affair with married Republican senator John Edwards, whose wife Elizabeth had had breast cancer and has since died. She had been unkind about Elizabeth in the book, which I thought was beyond inappropriate. It was disgusting. To my mind, she pursued him and was no better than a political groupie. She waited for him outside a hotel then gave her phone number to his assistant, for God’s sake. Very unlikeable behaviour. So there she was, telling her story, and I just thought she wasn’t being honest, and said so.
‘Do you talk with forked tongue? That’s what I want to know, Rielle.’
She started to cry, but honestly – what did she expect? If you’re going to come on a show with five other women and tell us about your affair with the husband of a woman with four kids who is dying of cancer, well, sorry, missy, you’re going to get some stick. There was no way I was going to sit there and be false. If you’re going to write a book about having an affair, own it. Say that you know it’s not right and that he probably fed you a load of old lies about his wife, as they always do. But don’t sit there and try to justify it.
After the show, the feedback revealed that most of the viewers agreed with me, and the show’s bosses were obviously OK with it too, because I didn’t get told off!
But it’s a paradox; what I love about the show – that we are all mates and comfortable with each other – can also be my undoing, because I sometimes forget that there are people at home listening to our every word.
For me, The Talk has been like finding a home. I feel I belong. And I feel accepted. It’s grounded me. Of course I still get great satisfaction out of working in the music industry, but only so far as the projects involve my husband. For everything else, I’ve seen it all before a million times. I’ve worked with some of the most legendary artists in the business. But if it wasn’t for Ozzy, I could quite happily close the door and wave it all goodbye.
After all my TV endeavours, I have finally found somewhere I feel truly comfortable. Julie Chen is a self-made woman who has learnt her craft of journalism the hard way. I’ve watched her blossom into the hilariously funny, sexy presenter that she is today. She’s the glue that holds the show together, the quintessential professional. Off camera she’s as funny as fuck, and I trust her implicitly.
As for Sara Gilbert, my darling little lesbian who first had the courage to hire me, she reminds me of a baby bird in a nest and I always want to protect her. She’s wickedly funny and has a very naughty, dirty sense of humour and amazing comic timing. She became a star at a very early age, but through it all she has managed to stay grounded and is probably one of the wisest women I have ever known. I admire her immensely, as she came out openly on the show, which can’t have been easy. She has two beautiful young children and she talks honestly about her sexual orientation, and in doing so I know that she’s helped thousands of young people feel comfortable with who they are. Also, for a working actress to come out in such a public way is taking a huge
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