No 'almost': Ross Shafer is live and living well

Back in 1992, the job offers weren't exactly pouring in for Ross Shafer.

Then he got a call from his agent saying he was on the short list to moderate a new show called "The Love Psychic." The high concept was that a woman psychic would make predictions about engaged couples' chances for successful marriages.

On the way to his audition, all Shafer could think was, "Oh, my God, I'm driving to a 'Love Psychic' audition." Not surprisingly, the show was canceled after a few episodes.

Actually, Shafer, who grew up here, can reel off a dozen TV shows that he hosted and that got canceled, from "The Late Show" on Fox, to the "Match Game," to "Love Me, Love Me Not."

You might remember him as the first host, from 1984 to 1988, of the classic "Almost Live" series that ran on KING-TV.

"Most people think you've died when you get canceled from TV," Shafer said. "You disappear. But you have to keep on making a living." So if the "Love Psychic" calls, you go.

But these days, things are going just fine for Shafer. I called him up after looking at his Web site (of course, rossshafer.com) and seeing what he's been up to.

He's one of the guys who gets hired to emcee and provide entertainment for that big corporate gathering, like Apple, NCR, Big O Tires or the Oregon Trucking Association.

Shafer does 60-odd shows a year. At $5,000 to $12,000 per appearance, it adds up to a pretty good living, and Shafer is enjoying life just fine these days.

"I've worked casinos and clubs. You work all week long, two shows a day. With corporations you work one day and you're through. And there is no 'Morning Zoo' radio you have to do," he said. (If you're doing a club show, it's typical to do a call-in plug to a radio station.)

"On the other end are five would-be comedians, and you're trying to talk over them, and there is stuff going on in the studio that you can't react to," Shafer said. It's nice not to have to hassle with that, he says.

Shafer has always had a clean act, and that's served him well in the corporate world.

"You have to be pretty clean because people have brought along their wives or husbands. And in a business setting, with risqué material you're always looking over your shoulder to see if the boss is laughing," he said.

Now, if the audience wants to get a little suggestive, that's OK. Using the techniques he learned from his talk-show days, Shafer uses a wireless mike to go out into the audience.

At an Amway convention in Boston with 20,000 people, Shafer asked a couple in their 70s if they were having a good time in the city. The woman blurted out, "We've had a great time. He likes to take showers with me."

Well, you know the talk-show ritual. Pause. Look at the elderly couple and say, "What do you have, Viagra-on-a-rope?" That got a nice laugh.

His corporate travels have taken Shafer to Saudi Arabia, where he entertained expatriates working for Aramco. But first he had to sit before a Saudi panel and read every joke he'd tell.

One of the jokes they censored: "You're supposed to thank your lover on the morning after. I say, if you know her name, throw that in, too."

Shafer doesn't try to be slick, but he knows the room before he starts the show. The companies send him material and biographies so he's familiar with what they do and can work in material that fits the crowd.

He was hired for a Bank of America meeting that came right after a big merger, with all the inherent worries about who would or wouldn't retain their job.

At that gathering, he opened up with, "First thing, let me take the pressure off right now. I'm a part-time employee and I'm leaving after today." He had them after that.

If you look at Shafer's Web site, read his biography, something comes through: The guy just doesn't give up. No amount of TV cancellations get to him. Right now, he also works with a partner in developing television pilots. None of their most recent three have made it.

Shafer, 50, these days lives in Lake Forest, about 60 miles south of Los Angeles, with his wife, Leah. He graduated from Federal Way High School in 1971. He has a business degree from the University of Puget Sound. Even early on, he was willing to be a little different.

In 1977 he had a stereo store in the Hi-Ho Shopping Center in Puyallup. "But you only sell stereos at graduation and Christmas. I was thinking of an idea of how to have people come in every day."

Pets. People buy pets every day. So the OK Stereo and Pet Shop was born. It didn't last very long.

But Shafer kept plugging along. When a room-service waitress in Orlando went out of her way to get him a Diet Coke, he turned the experience into a videotape called "Many Happy Returns," about giving customers better service than they expect.

He's earned $100,000 from that tape, and it started corporations calling him.

By 1995 Shafer had found his corporate niche. Now, he's even got an anti-self-help book, called, "Nobody Moved Your Cheese! How to Ignore the 'Experts' and Trust Your Gut" (Trafford, $14.95).

So, no, Ross Shafer hasn't disappeared.

"It's really been great," he said. "I haven't regretted leaving the pet shop at all."

Erik Lacitis: 206-464-2237 or elacitis@seattletimes.com