Grandy-ose notions

The person filtering interview requests for the man who played Gopher on the titanic ABC series, "The Love Boat," asks a question:

"What sort of things will you be asking Mr. Grandy about?"

Let's see: Charo. Isaac the Bartender. Jack Jones. The formerly famous Lauren Tewes. Life as a four-term Congressman. A futile run at the governorship of Iowa. The president's impeachment trial.

And above all: Goodwill Industries.

Fred Grandy, a 50-year-old former politician, actor and magna cum laude Harvard University graduate, can adroitly expound on how he turned a role as yeoman purser Burl "Gopher" Smith into a successful career in public service.

The former "Love Boat" regular is now president of Goodwill Industries International Inc., and is scheduled to be the guest speaker at the Goodwill of Southern Nevada's Community Recognition Reception tonight.

Grandy's appearance is part of a function honoring Achiever of the Year Lenny Tanzella, who graduated from Goodwill's Work Adjustment Program and is now manager of a Las Vegas Goodwill store; and Graduate of the Year Henry Robinson, who also graduated from the Work Adjustment Program and is employed at a local furniture store.

"It's a tribute to them and what Goodwill can provide," Grandy said. "I am honored just to be a part of what's happening in Las Vegas."

No longer hanging around with "Love Boat" regulars Gavin (Merrill Stubing) MacLeod, Bernie ("Doc" Bricker) Kopell, Ted (Isaac Washington) Lange and Tewes (Julie McCoy), Grandy has learned to co-exist with his small-screen alter ego.

"I made a career decision a long time ago that seemed pretty normal -- I wanted to be an actor," Grandy said during a recent phone interview from Goodwill headquarters in Bethesda, Md. "But can you imagine being known for running around the promenade deck in white shorts with a bunch of women in bikinis? That's not what I expected, but I live with it."

Enlisted in 1995 to take over Goodwill's operations, one of Grandy's first duties was to visit the organization's faltering Southern Nevada operation.

"They were facing expulsion, to put it bluntly," Grandy said. "They were deeply troubled. It was really a case of sins of omission rather than commission, and they were hopelessly under-powered in terms of potential for a rapidly growing community."

Among the organization's well-documented troubles was a $750,000 lawsuit stemming from a broken lease at its Main Street warehouse and location, which was later settled for one-tenth of the amount being sought.

The company has since opened a new warehouse and administrative offices at 6171 McLeod Drive.

However, the real problem, Grandy said, was an absence of organization.

"We don't measure ourselves by the number of donated goods, but by the number of people who gain jobs," he said. "Las Vegas wasn't cutting it even three years ago, but there has been a tremendous turnaround. Three years ago, we wouldn't have been able to have a brown-bag lunch in Las Vegas, much less a formal dinner."

Goodwill Industries of Southern Nevada has four local retail outlets and a training center for the disabled. Three of the stores were established after Grandy's 1995 ultimatum.

"It's mostly good news coming out of Las Vegas," Grandy said, complimenting the work of local Goodwill President Steve Chartrand. "The leadership there (is) doing a good job of recognizing the needs in their community, which is what Goodwill is all about."

The nonprofit organization has specialized in providing training, employment and job placement services for people with disabilities and other special needs. Grandy has lent his political experience and enduring name recognition to the cause.

"I came about this through a combination of careful planning and complete accident," Grandy said. "At first I thought, 'Why would I want to be the crown prince of the old-clothing business?' But when I interviewed, I could see that they were doing exactly what we'd been preaching in Congress with our Welfare-to-Work initiatives, empowering people to have opportunities.

"Essentially, I went from the debate side to the delivery side of policies. It's no more complicated than that."

Grandy's voyage from "Love Boat" to Goodwill was fairly smooth sailing. After the series' merciful cancellation in 1985, Grandy decided to run as a Republican for the House of Representatives from his home state of Iowa.

He won four elections, serving on several committees, including the House Ways and Means Committee and Committee for Standards of Official Conduct.

Thus, he has a pointed opinion on the impeachment trial of President Clinton, which was initially pushed to the Senate by some of the Republicans he worked with in the House.

"I was once part of the moral police force, so it's interesting to view this as a citizen," Grandy said. "When you take this case apart and look at it with perspective, it's an ethics case masquerading as a criminal trial held in a pubic court. Congress can't really discipline the president, and there's not an air-tight case to impeach him in the eyes of most people.

"Nobody is questioning his conduct, and he will be punished just by being impeached. That's a very telling form of punishment."

Grandy said the average citizen feels "like an outsider" during impeachment proceedings.

"I was in Detroit recently, and you know what the headlines were? Ford buying Volvo," Grandy said. "(The trial) is not the most relevant thing in their lives, and I'm sure that's the case in Las Vegas."

Grandy said he doesn't miss the House of Representatives, despite dropping out of Congress just as the "Republican Revolution" took hold in 1994.

"I'm glad I'm not serving right now, and not just because of the impeachment," he said. "I was not in it to be a long-termer. I didn't want to be some member of a committee and pass out favors and build roads.

"I guess I'm a counter-revolutionary. My revolution crashed and burned."

Grandy, seeking more executive clout, challenged fellow Republican Terry Branstad in the 1994 Iowa gubernatorial primaries and was beaten by just 4 percentage points.

Soon after, a headhunter from Goodwill sought out Grandy.

"I don't know how long I'll be in this position, but I can't see it being 20 years," Grandy said. "I'm the kind of person who plans a year ahead and organizes himself one day at a time. Nothing's permanent."

Except, of course, for his affiliation with "The Love Boat," which chugs along in syndication, a lingering tribute to the thespian skills of Tom Bosley, Ethel Merman, Annette Funicello, Tina Louise and a cavalcade of other lost-in-space celebrities. (A sequel series, "Love Boat: The New Wave," airs on UPN.)

Grandy said he's not in contact with any of his former crewmates.

"It's been quite a while, you know," he said. "The only people who seem interested are people in the media, who always ask about it. I have a theory that the only people who go into the media are the ones who failed their screen tests. They're the biggest bunch of wanna-be celebrities that I've ever seen."

But Grandy, too, is an admitted wanna-be.

"No one gets into this because they want to be anonymous," he said. "But you can't always pick the means of your fame. How was I supposed to know, graduating from Harvard and wanting to be a distinguished actor, that I'd be known as Gopher?"

Not that it's hindered Grandy's career path.

"I've never looked upon it as a detriment," he said. "I probably wouldn't have been a successful politician if it wasn't for Gopher. I don't know about other (actors), if Anson Williams hates being known as Potsie or whatever, but it has helped me.

"Besides, I still get all those residuals from the show. That alone is worth something."

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