PART 1: How I Risked Everything to Pursue My Dream Job

I always wanted to work in television.

It was my dream job from the age of about 13. I didn’t want to be an actor, producer, or writer. I wanted to be one of those cool, rich guys in suits at the TV networks who come up with ideas for shows and get to decide what makes it on the air. And I was obsessed with the idea of working at my favorite network: NBC. I thought, “How cool would it be to go to work every day at 30 Rock?”

When I was in college, I‘d been a summer intern for NBC News (I still have the NBC peacock towel that Willard Scott gave all the interns at orientation). So after finishing my master’s degree in communications from SUNY Albany and then working for a year in media buying for Ogilvy & Mather advertising, I realized that if I was really serious about a career in television, I needed to move to the west coast where most of the jobs were. I had already been rejected for full-time positions by NBC, along with every other network, cable station, and production company in New York City. Even though it was the toughest decision I ever had to make, I quit my job at Ogilvy and just blurted out to my parents: “I’m goin’ to Hollywood!”

A few weeks later, with two suitcases, a couple of hundred dollars to my name, no job, no leads, and no contacts in Los Angeles, my parents dropped me off at JFK. After a teary farewell, I boarded my flight to LAX, suddenly unsure of whether or not I was making the right decision.

With reality starting to sink in, my heart pounding with anxiety, and my head spinning with self-doubt and second thoughts, I made my way up the aisle toward my seat (coach, of course) all the way in the back of the plane. As I struggled to get by, a white-haired gentleman was blocking the aisle in first class. When he finally turned around and settled into his seat, I froze: it was Grant Tinker – the president of NBC.

Three hours into the flight, I was still debating whether or not to go up and talk to him. If I did, would I regret bothering him? If I didn’t, would I kick myself for eternity? Should I casually stroll by his seat, pretending to stretch my legs, and then “accidentally” drop one of my resumes onto his lap? Would he then be so impressed that he’d offer me a job on the spot? Or would he forever ban me from NBC for having the audacity to be such an idiot? Three times I got up and peeked through the first class curtain, only to chicken out and scurry back to my seat.

With less than an hour left in the flight, I decided it was now or never, do or die. Somehow, I summoned up the courage and, almost unconsciously, made my move:  I marched down the aisle, straight through the curtain, stopped at his row, turned towards him and, in one long, rambling, run-on sentence,  started spouting out the words that I had been rehearsing and revising in my head for the past four hours:

“Excuse me, Mr. Tinker. I hate to bother you. I was an intern at NBC in New York last summer, and the reason I’m on this flight is because I’m moving out to L.A. to try to get a job in the TV industry, hopefully at NBC. It’s my dream job. Again, I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you might have just a minute to give me some advice or suggestions, or anything that would point me in the right direction once I get out there.”

That’s how Grant Tinker, one of the most powerful men in Hollywood, found himself looking up at a 24 year-old kid who’d just barged into first class and asked for advice. What happened next changed me — and my career — forever.

What’s it going to be? The thrill of victory or the agony of defeat? Find out in the exciting conclusion!

PART 2: I Landed My Dream Job. Then Reality Set In.

When we last saw our hero, he had just asked Grant Tinker, then-president of NBC, for advice on landing his dream job. For more, read Part 1 of Todd’s story, How I Risked Everything to Pursue My Dream Job.

“Excuse me, Mr. Tinker. I hate to bother you. I was an intern at NBC in New York last summer, and the reason I’m on this flight is because I’m moving out to L.A. to try to get a job in the TV industry, hopefully at NBC. It’s my dream job. Again, I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you might have just a minute to give me some advice or suggestions, or anything that would point me in the right direction once I get out there.”

Yes, that’s how I introduced myself to Grant Tinker, the head of NBC. I walked into first class and asked, point blank, if he could give me a few pointers for getting started in the TV industry. When I finished, there was a pause that seemed to go on for eons (OK, it was probably only a second or two). Then the president of my favorite network smiled, slid over to the window seat, extended his hand, and said, “Sure, sit down for a minute. What’s your name?”

So, there I was: 24 years old, unemployed, with nothing in the world but a dream and two suitcases, sitting in first class on my way to L.A., chatting with the head of NBC.

I’ll spare you the details of the actual conversation, but the bottom line is this: the president of what was then the number one television network in the country was generous enough to take five minutes of his valuable time to share the wisdom of his experience with a young, aspiring job seeker.

I never ended up working at NBC, but I left that conversation on an emotional high, beaming with hope and optimism, and confident that I had made the right decision. And although I am 99.9 percent sure that Mr. Tinker doesn’t recall that brief interaction of so many years ago, his words and generosity still resonate with me today.

As for my career, it took a while — with a lot of ups and downs — to finally get on track. I took a number of “survival jobs” to pay the bills, including doing telephone sales for the L.A. Times during the day (pure, monotonous torture and hours of rejection), followed by my evening job as a bouncer at a Burbank nightclub (don’t ask).

But after months of perseverance, I finally caught a break.

There was a brief internship at Aaron Spelling Productions, followed by a stint in casting administration at Columbia Pictures Television, and then a job as assistant to a writer/producer at Disney Television. Then, at last, I landed my crowning position as assistant to the manager of drama program development at CBS. I was 25 years old, and I had finally made it into a TV network.

Unfortunately, working for an abusive psycho-boss at CBS forced me to leave the industry that I loved (or, more accurately, that I thought I was going to love), never to return. After a few exciting years as a project manager in the theme park business, I ultimately moved back to New York and got into the management training field, which is what I do today.

It might seem like working in television and my current career as a management, leadership, and presentation skills consultant, trainer, and coach have nothing in common. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

My experience in the entertainment industry taught me so much: storytelling (a crucial skill for successful leaders!); the power of visual thinking and visual communication; the effective use of metaphor and analogy; innovation and creativity; teamwork and collaboration; how to design a presentation and pitch an idea that motivates, inspires, and influences others; and so much more.

And, from my years in Hollywood, I learned numerous other life lessons that I regularly draw on as a leadership trainer, coach, and adjunct professor at NYU:

Do I miss the glamor and excitement of working in the entertainment industry? Well, I got to go to numerous TV show tapings and wrap parties. I got to sit on Seinfeld’s couch and on Norm’s bar stool on the Cheers set. I got to meet Lucille Ball, Tom Hanks, and Arnold Schwarzenegger. I had lunch with Vanna White, rode up in an elevator, alone, with Vanessa Williams, and, most memorable (and surreal) of all, I spent a half hour being interviewed, one-on-one, by Pee Wee Herman to be his personal assistant.

So, do I miss it? Maybe just a little.