How Paul Reiser helped Michael McDonald write his memoir

So why not ask “Mad About You” star Paul Reiser to write his memoir?

“What a Fool Believes,” out May 21, is oddly difficult to classify, standing out somewhat from the deluge of celebrity memoirs. It’s a little bit of everything: an addiction memoir, a career retrospective, a series of funny rock-and-roll vignettes, a rumination on family.

Reiser, whose other upcoming projects include the next “Beverly Hills Cop” movie on Netflix, keeps things light, even as the book wanders down unexpected alleyways, including a look at the technical side of music-making. McDonald’s titanic struggles with drugs and alcohol — at one point, he couldn’t make it to 10 a.m. without a drink — underpin an otherwise breezy affair, filled with stories of a rock-and-roll lifestyle: playing one-on-one hoops with James Taylor, frequent run-ins with the cops, that time every member of Steely Dan got crabs.

So how did this unlikely collaboration come to be? We hopped on Zoom with the pair to find out. (And, for the record, they’re as astonished as everyone else that this thing exists.)

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

How do you guys know each other?

Paul Reiser: We dated in high school. And you know what? Nobody talks about it. We were way ahead of our time.

We met at an event in L.A. Mike was performing at a private event I was invited to. I was a big fan, so in a colossal display of balls, I went over and introduced myself. I said: “I live next door, and I’ve got two pianos. Do you want to come play?” And Mike, God bless him, said, “Sure!”

I did the math, and it’s almost 20 years ago.

Michael McDonald: We just kind of sat around and discussed some of our favorite Beatles songs and how the Beatles have such great bridges in some of their songs.

We formed a new relationship over our love of the Beatles.

Reiser: Over the years, whenever we would chat, I would invariably have a question. I never understood Mike’s history. Mike is so much a part of everybody’s lives and soundtrack … but Mike’s sort of an enigma. So I would just ask questions, not about his personal life but his career. Like: “So how’d you get in Steely Dan? How could you be in Doobie Brothers at the same time? Isn’t that like playing for two teams?” And so he would answer, and then I’d forget and ask him again months later.

So I jokingly said — in March 2020, just when covid hit — “You should write a book, so I don’t have to bother you all the time.” I was just joking, and Mike says, “People have brought that up, but I don’t know if there’s a book here, or how to go about it.”

In another ballsy display of moxie, I said: “You know, I’ve written books. Plus it’s lockdown, and we’ve got no jobs. We’ve got nothing to do.”

Before we go further, I have to ask: What are each of your favorite Beatles songs?

Reiser: That’s impossible.

McDonald: Kind of like asking who’s your favorite child.

[McDonald says he loves “Every Little Thing” and pretty much anything off “Beatles VI.” Paul tries to remember a song that includes the line “when I get home tonight.” The two begin singing on Zoom. “Travis, you do the homework, find out what that’s called,” Reiser jokes. “We’ve only had 60 years to get it down.” Later, his publicist sends an email: “Just a quick note from Paul — he was able to confirm that the Beatles song they were trying to remember is called ‘When I Get Home.’”]

Reiser: Jesus, that’s sad. Take that part out of the interview.

So you’d get on Zoom, and, Michael, you would tell your story. What was that experience like, both intellectually and emotionally? And did you just remember everything, or did you have diaries?

McDonald: It was all pretty much from memory, and I realized that the time was right because in another couple of years, I probably wouldn’t remember half of it. Intellectually, I knew that. Emotionally, I just wanted Paul to stop pestering me.

Reiser: The task wasn’t “walk me through your life in chronological sequence.” It would be like this. We would talk about a Beatles song, and then Michael would go, “You know I played that with my band when I was 12.” And then he would tell me a story about his band, and I’d say, “That sounds like my idiot band when I was 12.” Or I’d say, “Ray Charles. Tell me.” It was this casual. I wasn’t interviewing him, and we had no agenda.

And if you remember the beginning days of Zoom, we were just happy to have somebody to talk to. We would sit outside our respective homes and drink a coffee and go, “So, tell me about Steely Dan,” and out would come these stories.

McDonald: We wanted it to be in my words, me telling my story. What really came out of our relationship was his expertise as a writer, knowing how to put thoughts and ideas in a chronological sequence.

Reiser: You think about how many various, diverse artists Mike has worked with. He is a great collaborator and not locked into any particular thing. He’s agile enough to work with Thundercat and Quincy Jones and Burt Bacharach and Paul Anka. How many people can do that?

As a stand-up, you write for yourself. In “Mad About You,” I was taking stuff from my life and writing it with others, but it was basically for me to do. This was not. This was Mike’s. I’d have to remind myself. I’d put a funny thing in there, and Mike would say, “I wouldn’t say it like that.” So I’d take it out.

What I’m really gratified by is if you read the book, it sounds like our chats. It is Mike speaking honestly and casually. I asked Mike to write the book selfishly, because I wanted to read it. All my questions were answered.

I was struck by how vulnerable and honest the book is. I know the project was kind of a lark at first, but was it difficult to be that open, Michael? And was there a decision made at some point to tell the truth as it happened, rather than try to gloss over it, which I think a lot of people might have?

McDonald: It’s a tricky turf to navigate. I wanted to tell my story as a recovering addict, because I felt that there are so many people out there who might glean something from it. What I’ve come to know about people who suffer from addiction is that there’s a lot of healing in talking to other addicts. So I wanted to put that message in there, but I wanted to be careful to stay this side of associating myself with any organization or speaking for any organization or fellowship.

But if I was going to tell my story, that was a big part of it, for better or worse. A lot of the story is how probably those signs were there before I ever knew it.

In a larger sense, the story kind of started to become about just how random life is. And I think it’s a universal story. I don’t think it’s unique to me. I think most anyone will relate to the randomness of my path, and my good fortune in spite of myself. If it was up to me, I would have blown it up every time.

Was there anything in particular that was difficult to put into the book?

McDonald: There are probably some things I purposefully didn’t talk about in the book, either because I didn’t want to throw someone under the bus or I didn’t want to go to jail at 72.

Life is just full of good and bad, and none of us are perfect. We do things we regret. And if you’re going to write a memoir, you have to own up to at least some of that. One of the things I came away with when writing the story — something I always believed anyway, because of my own experience, but that the book made a little more clear to me — is that the worst thing we might perceive to happen in our lives, invariably, they become the best things that ever happened to us.

What surprised you the most, Paul, while hearing his story?

Reiser: The book begins with Michael McDonald in a jail cell! I didn’t know about that. I don’t think I knew the extent of his involvement with alcohol and drugs. I had a new appreciation, just in hearing it, of how brutal that is and how challenging that is to overcome.

Really what struck me and was so beautiful to see is Mike’s nature. Mike is a really forgiving and gentle soul. You go back and listen to his music, and you go, “Oh, it’s really all there in his songs.”