These days, Joe Blatchford finds much reward and satisfaction in being the CEO of Image 2000, a $30 million dealership nestled in Valencia, California. But way back in the day, during his formative years spent in Burbank, Blatchford enjoyed a relatively long taste of the Hollywood life when he worked four-plus years as an executive assistant/runner for Chuck Barris Productions (CBP), and later became the go-to guy for Barris himself.
It was a whirlwind experience for Blatchford, and Barris kept him constantly moving for a three-year stretch. It was a world of Hollywood icons, fast cars, Rolex watches, beautiful women, eccentric millionaires and the most outrageous of human behavior imaginable. And Blatchford had a front-row seat.
“You have to picture yourself as a 20-something, being the youngest guy in the company by about 10 years, driving around in a black Jimmy four-wheel drive with the Chuck Barris logo on the side, the baddest-looking vehicle around,” Blatchford said. “An executive runner was the most sought-after job in a production company. To work for Chuck and handle all his personal affairs…it was a dream job. I worked for $175 a week, which included weekends when we shot ‘The Gong Show.’ The money didn’t matter; it was an unbelievable experience.”
People of a certain age will recall Barris for his zany line of television shows that aired between the mid-1960s and early 1980s—“The Gong Show,” “The Dating Game,” “The Newlywed Game,” “Treasure Hunt” and “The $1.98 Beauty Show,” among countless others. The sister of Blatchford’s girlfriend at the time alerted him to the opportunity to work for CBP shortly after graduating high school, and the company furnished a station wagon to run errands.
On Second Thought
The experience almost ended before it began. Blatchford, then a young man in his early 20s, was fired shortly after joining CBP (“The first and only time I’ve ever been fired,” Blatchford recalled) because the boyfriend of Barris’ daughter (Della) needed a job. But when Della’s beau proved to be far less effective, he was canned and Blatchford was rehired and soon elevated to Barris’ personal assistant/runner. The station wagon was replaced with the aforementioned Jimmy, and Blatchford would also get to drive Barris’ Porsche, BMW, Mercedes and other high-priced vehicles.
The Philadelphia-born Barris, who died in 2017 at age 87, wasn’t quite the zany performer that viewers loved on “The Gong Show.” The man didn’t smoke, drink or take drugs, but he was more than a little eccentric. Every time he bought a new car, he would have Blatchford take it to a shop to have pin striping applied. Barris also insisted on having an “ooga” horn installed in his cars.
“I doubt you could get away with that these days. It’s probably not legal now,” Blatchford said.
But this was the late 1970s/early 1980s, decades before social media would shine a brighter light on the lives of celebrities. Barris was a bit of a volatile character as a boss, employing a fee/fine system that would award fees for team members who did things well or dock the checks of those who did something that irked him.
Doggone Indecisive
Then there was the impulsive side of Barris. He once purchased a Jack Russell Terrier and had Blatchford erect chicken wire around the house to limit the dog’s ability to roam. Two weeks later, Barris decided he didn’t want the dog, so Blatchford took the poor pooch home to his mother. Perhaps not surprisingly, Barris wanted the dog back another two weeks later.
Barris was also a bit indecisive when it came to women. Between marriages, he dated a young woman from the production company, nicknamed “Red” due to her hair color. Red would occasionally live with Barris, but it fell on Blatchford to move the woman out when Barris grew tired of her company.
“She’d get banished and I would pick up her luggage from the house and take her to a hotel,” Blatchford recalled. “She’s crying to me, telling me all this stuff, and I’m just a kid. It was wild.”
Despite being worth an estimated $150 million and having a taste for the finer things in life (including Montblanc pens), Barris could also be oddly frugal, negotiating over trifling amounts of money. But Blatchford had his orders. He washed Barris’ car each morning, then met with the producer to get a list of the daily requests.
Blatchford was also tasked with doing Barris’ shopping, and obviously this was a time before Amazon Prime. He’d walk into high-end Beverly Hills stores like Gucci, wearing jeans and a tee shirt, and would be rudely accosted by employees in short order. Of course, once Blatchford explained who he was repping, the reception made a fast 180-degree pivot.
“They’d say, ‘Who the hell are you,’ and when I told them I worked for Chuck Barris, I’d be surrounded by like 16 attendants,” he said. “I had an unlimited budget, could buy a fur coat, Rolex watches, you name it.”
Zany Antics
“The Gong Show” was perhaps the most thrilling experience for Blatchford. The first host used was dry and boring, so Barris tried it himself and proved to be equally uninteresting, not to mention extremely nervous. Once Barris started donning hats and loosened up, the show really took off, according to Blatchford. Show regulars such as The Unknown Comic (comedian Murray Langston with a bag over his head) and Gene Gene the Dancing Machine (an NBC stagehand) added flair to the zany talent show.
“We had so many different people on the show, including the Miss Nude Universe,” Blatchford added. “A lot of stuff that happened didn’t make it on air, because the censors wouldn’t allow it.”
Blatchford would log 16-hour days over the weekend when the shows were taped. He’d arrive at Barris’ home at seven in the morning, gather up all his guitars, amps, hats and chewing tobacco, and load them into the car to take to the studio. Rehearsals would take place until 5 p.m., followed by the taping of five episodes.
“It was shot in front of a live audience, and the energy level for ‘The Gong Show’ was off the charts,” Blatchford noted. “Some of the other shows were good, but this was electric. There was no other way to describe it.”
The Famous and Affluent
Along the way, Blatchford rubbed elbows with many of Barris’ closest friends, including Dick Clark, Nick Cassavetes, John Ritter, the Getty family and former Philadelphia Flyers owner Ed Snider. Blatchford even went on tour with Barris in support of his mostly fictional book, “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind,” which was later made into a movie. It was all very glamorous.
But when all six of Barris’ current shows went off the air, the ride came to a screeching halt. Blatchford did work for a lighting company Barris created, but it wouldn’t be long before he went to college, earned a degree and found his true stage in the office technology industry. But he’ll always treasure his Almost Famous-esque Hollywood journey.
“I loved traveling with him on the book tour, meeting celebrities, going into nice restaurants and being treated phenomenally,” Blatchford said. “It was a completely different lifestyle. The money didn’t matter to me. It was exciting to go to work to see what the heck was going to happen in this crazy world of television.”
