A funny thing happened on the way to the proctologist.

No matter how calamitous or inappropriate the circumstance, give an actor the chance to rattle off his resumé and he will not disappoint. Proctologists wait until they have me in the most compromising of positions before they ask, “So, you’re an actor. Have I seen you in anything?” And, even with the proctologist fisting me like Malcolm McDowell, I groan, “Unnhhh, damn, well, did you see… unnnhh… Trojan Women at Theater 54?” The same scenario plays out with urologists. I have a camera inserted through my urethra into my bladder for a cancer check. As the Doctor and I watch the live and exclusive footage of my bladder wall he asks, “Now, you’re an actor. My wife and I loved CATS. What did you make of it?” Actresses endure the same with their gynecologists.