In the 1990s, if one was asked about humorous repair shows on television, the press-the-buzzer answer for most Americans would have been Home Improvement, the ABC sitcom that starred Tim Allen as President of the Binford Tool Company and the host of the DIY home improvement show “Tool Time.”

Ed Feldman (left) and Joe L’Erario, hosts of Furniture to Go

But, for a small population of Philadelphians, humorous repair was synonymous with Joe L’Erario and Ed Feldman, stars of The Learning Channel series Furniture to Go, which aired from 1993 to 1997.  The two furniture repairmen from the City of Brotherly Love somehow carved out a niche and developed a loyal following in the crowded how-to television genre by intertwining their bonhomie and bad humor with cinematic references and an easygoing approach to their craft.

Over the course of four years, the pair channeled their restorative powers toward a panoply of furniture, from French Deco cocktail tables and walnut pews to poplar armoires, mahogany throne chairs, and Old World roll-top desks.  And, in 1996, for their 49^th episode “Pool Table,” they tackled – you guessed it – the refurbishing of an old pool table.  The full episode is available to watch here.

https://youtu.be/rFWc-6_rr_4

Like most Furniture to Go episodes, “Pool Table” begins with a cinematic interstitial. Mr. Feldman plays Minnesota Fats, and Mr. L’Erario plays Bert Gordon, in a black-and-white parody of The Hustler, which also randomly weaves in a reference to “my friend Harvey” from The Honeymooners billiards episode “The Bensonhurst Bomber.” (Other episodes have lampooned films, such as Arsenic and Old Lace, A Clockwork Orange, and On the Waterfront.)

After the clip, Mr. Feldman and Mr. L’Erario take the viewer to Monarch Billiards in Crum Lynne, Pennsylvania, where they have been contracted by the owner to repair an ash pool table (as opposed to the nearby $56,000 table with ­the Carpathian Elm aprons and legs with hand-carved mahogany lions).

With table in hand, they return to their studio to begin the restoration, which includes three stages: (1) refinishing the wood; (2) repairing the leather pockets; and (3) refelting the table. Though each stage is intended to be straight-forward, there are a sufficient number of steps involved to make one admire the difficulty of the artistry from afar.

For example, in the first phase, when Mr. L’Erario seeks to replace the “ugliest color finish he’s ever seen,” he takes the viewer through the following steps: sanding, cleaning, tack ragging, masking off, mixing (clear lacquer, burnt sienna japan color, and red mahogany stain), straining the mix, adding fisheye destroyer, spraying, adding a second layer of color (pure golden oak), spraying again, and finally, spraying a semi-gloss lacquer.

All the while, the duo engage in a series of terrible jokes, many with a nod to movies and celebrities.  Describing the legs of the pool table, Mr. Feldman says, “These legs aren’t that attractive either…They’re kind of like my aunt’s leg.” To which Mr. L’Erario replies, “They’re kind of like Ernest Borgnine’s legs.” Referring to the flattening agent in the semi-gloss lacquer, Mr. Feldman asks, “Flattening agent? Is that what Kate Moss uses?”

By the end of “Pool Table,” after the pockets have been treated with mink oil and the rails have been refelted using a rawhide hammer to secure the fabric beneath the splines, the table is reassembled using just a ratchet wrench (“Use the Ratchet. Miss Ratchet. Nurse Ratchet.”), and becomes the setting for a friendly game of billiards.

Though Furniture to Go only lasted a few years, the repair pair have channeled their skills and zany charm through a variety of off-camera activities, including authoring The Furniture Guys Book in 1999 and teaching classes at the Art Institute of Philadelphia and the University of Pennsylvania, as well as have appeared on numerous talk shows, such as Good Morning America, Regis and Cathy Lee, Maury Povich and The View.

However, for true zealots of the show, the great news may be the team’s return to television.  In March 2017, a pre-production announcement for their new show The Old Furniture Guys lit up YouTube. For everyone who can’t wait to watch and once again wish to see these guys “lay down some gorgeous Charlie Sheens,” your prayers may have been finally answered.

Based on posted reviews and garnered awards, you would be mighty foolish to visit Portland, Oregon, and not spend an evening dining and playing pool at the Uptown Billiards Club, located in the city’s Pearl District.  The upscale restaurant-cum-pool-hall is rated 4.8 (out of 5) on Open Table, 4.6 (out of 5) on Facebook, and 4 (out of 5) on Yelp, and it has been recognized as a Top 100 “Fit For Foodies” restaurant, as well as a Top 10 restaurant in the Pearl District.  Have you seen the Big Daddy Burger or the signature Bacon, Pear & Fontina Pizza?  They look absolutely sumptuous, and don’t even get me started on the “themed” five course tasting menu…

Thus, it’s hard to imagine why the club’s owner, Kent Lewis, genuinely felt the need to go on the reality show Mystery Diners and spy on his newly hired “social media expert” to validate his usefulness.  But, that’s exactly the premise of the “Behind the Eight Ball” episode, which aired in November 2014 as part of the series’ eighth season.  The episode is available for purchase on YouTube.

Mystery Diners is yet another undercover reality show (e.g., Undercover Boss; Restaurant Stakeout) that covertly monitors employees at work.  Airing on the Food Network and hosted by the wooden Charles Stiles, owner of Business Evaluation Services and Mystery Shopper Services, the series relishes the use of hidden cameras and microphones, and disguised actors, to learn first-hand what happens when the boss is away.

The series, which has about as much tension as Judge Judy, “has been accused of being both completely fake and scripted,” according to WaitWithUs.  “Several people claiming to be involved with both Stiles’ companies and restaurants that have been featured on the show have come forward and stated that not everything broadcast on the series is real.” [1] And, in fact, each episode ends with a graphic stating, “Certain events may have been re-enacted for dramatic purposes.”

All of which brings us back to the proprietor’s curious decision to appear on Mystery Diners.  As Mr. Lewis states, his challenge is trying to “change the perception of a pool hall,” as he cannot exactly “invest in marketing because upscale pool room is an oxymoron.”  So, he hires Sonny, a “social media expert” to bring in new customers, but he requires Mr. Stiles to evaluate the return on his social media investment.

This is a little hard to swallow for several reasons.  First, Uptown Billiards states prominently on their website: “We don’t pay advertisers or publicists to toot our horn, we believe in word-of-mouth.” Okay, not sure how that jibes with the decision to hire Sonny.  Then, there is the not-so-complicated question of how to evaluate a social media expert, besides through elaborate reality television reconnaissance.  How about Facebook likes? Instagram posts?   It took me 15 minutes on these various sites to conclude Uptown Billiards has little social media presence.  With 210 followers on Twitter (and that’s more than 2 years after the episode aired), I think it’s a safe call Sonny didn’t exactly excel at his job.

As the name suggests, Uptown Billiards not only has a mouth-watering menu, but also is home to 10 Brunswick pool tables: eight 4’x8’s and two tournament-sized in a private room.  Ultimately, Sonny is undone by the printing and distribution of coupons to his friends to use these tables for free, all of which is captured on tape rather unconvincingly.

But, that “gotcha!” moment is far more credible than the cornball – and clearly staged – reveal of Bri, the new bartender, not only playing pool while she’s working, but gambling too.  What’s more, Bri is apparently in cahoots with the drunkard she beat on the table.  The secret camera shows Bri lining up a pigeon to get hustled, pretending to pour liquor into the drunkard’s glass, and receiving a pay-off. As Mr. Lewis line-reads, “I grew up in a pool hall and I’ve known hustlers my whole life.  This [drunk guy at the table] is a hustler… [and Bri] is a shill…she’s the person who baits the person with the real money.”

Anyone who thinks this scene is real is probably deserving of a hustle.  Bri clearly cannot shoot pool, as evidenced by her stance and the producer’s inability to capture a decent unedited shot. The tosspot at the table playing air guitar with his cue stick looks too drunk to dupe anyone. And there’s no reason for Bri to receive a payoff after each game. The roping should be an all-night affair, with a payoff at the end.

Sure enough, Bri is played by an actress, Bri Schreiber. The “Behind the Eight Ball” role is listed in on her website. Interestingly, her email includes the phrase “jimmistick,” which is a word for a sawed-off cue stick.  So, perhaps Ms. Schreiber does have some pool DNA in her?  And, more weirdly, her LinkedIn profile shows her as still working at Uptown Billiards…as a roulette dealer?!

In any event, regardless of the veracity of in “Behind the Eight Ball,” the episode seemed to have little impact on Uptown Billiards.  There were no noticeable spikes in social media followers and no online reviews citing the episode as a reason for visiting.  Even Mr. Lewis appears a little unenthused, judging from his Facebook post.  Maybe that’s because he’ll forever be haunted by his closing words, “Thank you Charles for helping me rack up these hustlers and put them behind the eight ball.”

[1]       Reality TV Fake! Food Network Show ‘Mystery Diners’ Caught Up In Scandal For Faking It