When you walk through the studio doors to prepare to film, you check your identity at the door. I was no longer Michael Bush. I was “wardrobe.” In the business, you are summoned by your job description. If your job is hair someone shouts, “Hair,” and if your job is makeup, then you’ll hear another yell for “Makeup!” And, like a dog to a whistle, you respond. It’s not personal; there are just too many people to remember by name, and the revolving door of the studio makes it virtually pointless to try to remember a name. But working with Michael was different. By 1991, I had been with him in 6 years, so the time when we were on set for the “Black or White” short film, and Michael called out “Wardrobe!” he caught himself. Michael stood in front of the green screen, leg guards sliding down his leg, with his hand over his mouth.

As I responded to the call and bent down to fix his guards, Michael reached for my arm, utterly mortified at the thought of being so impersonal and profusely apologized, saying, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I know your name, Bush. I didn’t mean that.” We were very close friends and confidants by this point, thanks to all of the travel time that allowed us personal conversations, as well as Michael’s eagerness to share his feelings with me about his day-to-day activities and long-term goals. I knew he didn’t mean it and couldn’t help but admire his humility. It’s not every day you hear about a person of Michael’s fame taking the focus off of himself and recognizing those who directly or indirectly help make his life work.

“That’s okay, Michael. From now on when on set, we’ll call you The Entertainer. ‘Is the Entertainer ready? Wardrobe to The Entertainer!”

Michael chuckled and gave me that raised eyebrow that said, “Man, you are all right.” But I think inside he liked the idea of being called “The Entertainer.” After all, he was the consummate entertainer, a master of ceremony. And nothing proved this truth better than Michael’s tours.

~ Michael Bush