September 1997

I never thought I’d get a second chance to present at an awards show!

Dick Clark invited Stephen Nichols and I to be presenters at this year’s Daytime Emmys in New York. Several years ago we hosted the Soap Opera Digest Awards, another of Dick’s productions.

I remember we made our grand entrance and I flubbed my first line! Shaken – and in front of thousands of people – I turned around and walked right off the stage! Dick was standing there, aghast, saying: “Mary Beth, this is live!”

Naturally, I wasn’t invited back….until now. This was my big chance to make amends.

I invited a girlfriend. “We’re both suburban mums, up at dawn, loads of kids, in bed by 10pm. How about we toss aside family responsibility for a girl’s weekend?”

Dick flew us there, lent us a limo and put us up at the Sheraton Manhattan. We were living. Next morning, we jogged through Central Park. It was a beautiful, sunny day – we took our time.

Back at the hotel, Stephen was in the lobby. “Everybody is so mad at you! You missed rehearsal,” he said.

I hailed a cab, telling the driver: “Radio City Music Hall – and step on it!”

I raced to the theatre, fell through the door and ran straight into Dick. “Well, Mary Beth, it’s so good of you to join us. Enjoying New York City, are you…?”

I walked down the rickety plywood stairs backstage, knowing that later I would be wearing support hose, body shapers, high heels and a tight gown. I thought “Oh my God, I’m going to kill myself!”

It was the biggest theatre I’d ever seen and panic set in. As I began rehearsing, Oprah and her entourage came in. I was a wreck and mucked up every line.

I fled to a glamorous salon for my elegant coif. I emerged with a bouffy do, still wearing my trackies.

Back at the hotel with an hour to get ready, I got butterflies. I’d never pull this off!

Backstage, with 15 seconds to go, I thought, what the hell – I may as well have a good time. The stage manager pushed me through the curtains. Exuding confidence and a big smile, I skipped down the stairs, meeting Stephen at the lectern to announce Best Supporting Actor.

All the nominees were pals and we were pleased when B&B’s Ian Buchanan won. He was overcome, but I was so cool.

My girlfriend and I went to the ABC party: “Look at us mums, out on the town?” The party went ’til 3am!

Later I got a letter from Dick, saying the show’s staff had voted me the nicest person at the Emmys. “We look forward to working with you again soon.” I guess I’ve made amends.

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