Exclusive: John Stamos Writes About Broadway Experiences In New Memoir; Read About His Time in HOW TO SUCCEED

John Stamos recently released his memoir IF YOU WOULD HAVE TOLD ME, which debuted on the New York Times Best Seller’s List. 

In the memoir, Stamos chronicles his multiple experiences on Broadway, including chapters about his time in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, Bye Bye Birdie, Cabaret, and The Best Man. 

Read an excerpt from Stamos' memoir in which he details making his Broadway debut in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying below! 

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I stay in touch with Jack Klugman, my OG old guy. I advise every young actor to roll with anentourage of crusty ol’ gents will- ing to bust your chops. Jack doesn’t care much for Full House. He says I’m a better actor and it’s time to prove it. I appreciate the straight talk.

“Get to the theater!” Jack says with a voice that sounds like he’s gargling gravel. “I can’t just go dot heater,” I tell him. Plus, let’s be real here, if anyone ever wanted me onstage, it would probably be for a musical. And let’s just say my singing and dancing skills aren’t exactly Tony Award material. Jack hammers me. “Doesn’t always matter. It’s about selling the song. You’re an actor! The best musical theater people know how to sell the story within the song. I originated the role of Herbie in Gypsy with Ethel Merman. You ever hear me sing?”

“No, and can we please keep it that way?” I joke with him. “The only real question is, can you hold the stage?”

What the hell does that mean?

I’m curious, but cautious. Like many of the things that life puts in your path, first you wink at an idea, then you wrestle with it a little, and soon it becomes a lifelong love. My first Broadway show is: How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. Also, what I call the start of my acting career.

It’s 1995, and I get a call from my agent. “Listen, Matthew Broderick just won the Tony for How to Succeed, but he’s leaving for five months to shoot a movie called The Cable Guy with Jim Carrey. He’s coming back, but they’re interested in you replacing him while he’s gone.”

The next words out of my mouth should be “Are you fuck- ing crazy? I’ve never done anything like this before!” but instead I hear Jack Klugman’s sandpaper voice, “Get to the theater!”

“I’m in!” I tell my agent.

“You’ll have to audition,” he says like it’s a warning. “Only three weeks to prepare.”

“I get it. Send me the material and I’ll start working on it.”

In my mind, I always believed that if I work hard enough, I can do anything. The acting andcomedy chops required to play

J. Pierrepont Finch come easily to me, the singing and dancing, not so much. I’ll rent a dance studio, hire a teacher, and work day and night. I’ll do the same with a singing coach. I’ve never been a great singer, and the thought of singing live feels very scary.

Des McAnuff, the play’s award-winning director whose credits include The Who’s Tommy and Jersey Boys, is a huge Broadway director and a nice man. He offers to work with me to prepare for my big audition that’s scheduled for the following day. I’ll need his help to stand up to the critical eye of Jo Loesser, widow of Broadway’s premier composer, Frank Loesser, who cowrote How to Succeed, as well as Guys and Dolls and many other classic musicals.

On October 3, 1995, I head to Des’s brownstone in the Village. As I arrive, Des, along with the rest of theworld, is glued to the television. They’re about to announce the verdict in the O. J. Simpson trial. It’s all a blur: Marcia Clark’s poodle perm nodding, clips of perpetual houseguest Kato Kaelin, Johnnie Cochran’s smooth delivery holding a glove: “If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit.”

I hit play on the Walkman tape recorder I brought along for the piano tracks and start singing, “How to apply for a job. How to—” “You’re going to be great,” Des says with his gaze fixed on The Juice. Is he even listening to me? I realize we’re waiting on the verdict of the biggest trial of the twentieth century, with lives hanging in the balance and the very concept of justice on trial, but a little help on my audition wouldbe nice, Des. I’m going to die in that audition tomorrow. It’ll be bloodier than O.J.’s hands.

I go into the audition around 10:00 a.m. as prepared as I can be. I feel I’m finally sneaking up on that elusive fearlessness that I’d been trying to get back to for years.

I am in and out pretty fast. And to be honest, I couldn’t tell if they were impressed or not; I was just happy there was no blood shed.

I sit by the phone for hours. And hours. I pace, I order lunch from room service. I get frustrated when the phone rings and it’s my mother. “Yes, Mother,” I say, as if she’s called five times already (which she has).

She says, “Guess what? I just realized the address of your hotel is 151, those are my numbers. This is good luck.”

Thank you, Mother.

I finish another room service meal and I’m ready to give up, go home and have my head examined, thinking I could be on Broadway. Then the phone rings. “Hi—”

“Hey John, it’s Des, sorry I didn’t call sooner.” I pipe in, “O.J. trial?”

“Yes, have you been watching? I can’t believe—”

“Des, did I get the part?”

“Yes!” he says, like I knew this already. “I thought you knew this already.” How?—  “Anyway, everyone loved you. I wish you could have been a fly on the wall.”

“I wish you could have called me eight hours earlier!”

Three weeks later to the day, I’m sitting in front of the vanity mirror in my dressing room. I did it. I can’t believe I’m here. I stop and really take it all in. The flowers, telegrams, and well-wishers dropping by, telling me to break my legs. My hair is slicked back, not in a cool James Dean way, more like Jerry Lewis. I’m suited up in my baby blue window-washer’s jumpsuit.

Over the tiny speaker I hear, “It’s Saturday night on Broadway and this is your ten-minute call, tenminutes till places. And let’s give a big warm welcome to Mr. Stamos tonight as he makes his Broadway debut.”

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Purchase IF YOU WOULD HAVE TOLD ME here! 

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