`I'M READY FOR MY CLOSEUP' : DAILY NEWS WRITER GETS STAR TREATMENT COURTESY OF SPELLING.

Byline: Keith Marder Daily News Television Writer

I had met Jason Priestley twice, but when we swapped ``Hey, how ya doin's'' in a Valley warehouse, there was a totally different vibe.

This wasn't reporter to actor. This was actor to actor.

I was not at the ``Beverly Hills, 90210'' studio to interview cast members. I was a cast member.

Executive producer Aaron Spelling allowed me to play a part for the 206th episode, which airs at 8 tonight on Fox (Channel 11). Aaron - as he insisted I call him - gave me the same part he began his acting career with: a telegram messenger.

``I knocked on a door. A voice on the other side said, `Who is it?' and I said `Telegram,' '' Spelling said. ``Got it on the first take.''

Well, Aaron would be proud. I also nailed it the first time, and I had 16 more words.

A lot happened between the time Aaron and I had our conversation and the time I pulled my car out of the ``Talent Only'' spot in the ``90210'' soundstage parking lot. I had no idea my car was so talented.

The back story

I am a lifelong fan of ``Beverly Hills, 90210.'' Not my life, of course. The show's life.

Like 10 million other viewers, I spend at least an hour a week with my friends from Beverly Hills who are expected to head off into the real world during an eighth season this fall.

So, while interviewing Aaron, I dropped reference after reference to the nattily attired, finely coiffed gang. Finally, he caught on. ``You really know the show, don't you?''

``Well,'' I answered proudly, ``I once met some writers from the show who thought I knew it better than them.'' He didn't doubt it. ``Actually, my goal this year is, for a story, to do a guest-spot on `90210.' I want to deliver a pizza to the Keg House: `Sanders. Extra cheese and pepperoni. That'll be $19.50.' ''

His reply was two syllables: ``It's done.''

He called, ``Cindy! Get in here. We have to write a part for Keith. He's going to deliver a pizza to the Keg House or the Walsh House.'' Turning to me, ``Or, do you want to play yourself?''

``Brandon's journalist mentor?'' I asked.

``I like the character better,'' he said.

``That's what makes you Aaron Spelling,'' I followed.

``We'll have so much fun,'' he said. ``You'll get hair and makeup. Tori will come looking for you backstage. The kids are going to get such a kick out of you. You're not going to back out on me, are you?''

Fat chance.

Cut to mid-January. Ballroom of a Pasadena hotel. An Aaron Spelling press conference. I reintroduced myself.

``Hi, I'm Keith Marder from the Daily News,'' I said.

``My pizza guy!'' Aaron exclaimed. ``I know. I was supposed to call you at the first of the year, but I could not, for the life of me, remember your name. I didn't want to call that place where you work and say, `Who was that guy I was talking to?' I'm so happy you're here. You know, I may have you deliver to that beach house where our three girls live. I think that would be funny.''

Then we met with Jonathan Levin, president of Spelling Television.

``Jonathan, this is Keith Marder from the Daily News. What do I always say about him?'' Spelling asked.

Without missing a beat, Levin answered: ``The pizza guy.''

``See?'' Spelling said to me. ``You thought I was making it up.''

Levin gave me his card and said to call him soon because Aaron was constantly talking about this.

The preparation

Once the week my scene would be shot was set, I signed up for Spinning (bicycle aerobics) classes and started using teeth-whitening toothpaste.

The excitement grew when a messenger delivered my script. As it turned out, my part would be delivering a telegram instead of a pizza. I learned the lines and performed them for anyone who got in my path. I also interviewed a real telegram messenger. That's what Hollywood types call research.

I had to find out if I should I should carry the telegram in my left or right hand (``It doesn't matter'') and what should be going through my mind (``Nine times out of 10 they're not going to be home, so you're thinking that you're going to slide it under the door.'')

Then, seeing as my character was not given a name other than ``Messenger,'' I had to come up with an identity, a persona. I found mine in a guy I know named Joe, who is charming and dashing.

That set, I was off to my acting coach, Marki Costello, who teaches out of the Santa Monica Playhouse and runs Casting Entertainment Group. I went to her apartment and ran my sides a few times - that's what they call practicing lines in the business.

The key, I figured, was not preparing. It was overpreparing.

She taught me that acting was nothing more than making choices, and I had two. I could be the angry telegram messenger, or the telegram messenger who sees a Seventeen magazine cover model and turns into a flirt. I chose the latter.

After going over the lines with Marki - she said I could call her Marki - I was ready to tackle it for real. I went to the door, knocked and used props to get the mechanics down. She gave me notes and told me to take my time, because, ``acting is reacting.''

To settle my nerves, she made me do my lines for everyone we met, including waitresses and strangers we happened upon.

The big day

Being prompt for my 2 p.m. call was important to me - I wanted to spend as much time in the moment as possible.

On the way over to the soundstage, I picked up five packs of Extra gum and five rolls of Breath Savers, which I have seen on every set I've ever been on. What if they wrote in a make-out scene for me at the last minute? I had to be ready.

I threw the breath relief in my knapsack along with my deodorant, hair-care products, my script and an 8-by-10 black-and-white photo of myself - just in case anyone asked.

Most of the day was ``hurry up and wait.'' First I was shown to my dressing room, a sparsely decorated lavender rectangle with a futon, a TV stand (no TV), a lamp, a couple of posters and a phone for me to call anyone who'd listen to me about where I was. The room was in the same hall with the series' regulars. It was marked with a piece of masking tape that read, ``Keith`Messenger.' '' Brian Austin Green (David Silver) stopped in front of the door and said, ``Hey, Keith, messenger.''

I answered back with what would become my mantra, ``Nice working with ya.''

My contact with most of the cast members was fleeting. Days are often long on the set, and they buzzed about learning their lines and getting their hair styled and having makeup applied.

I got right into the spirit and jumped into my wardrobe - navy blue pants, a white shirt and a navy blue windbreaker with a ``Speedy Delivery Service'' patch.

One of the first things I had to do when I settled into my dressing room was to sign about nine contracts. They said I was being paid the Screen Actor's Guild rate ($540 a day), which I turned over to the Los Angeles chapter of the American Leukemia Society.

Then it was off to the hair trailer, where my dreams were realized. I was going to sit where Luke Perry, who played Dylan McKay, had sat. I walked in and pronounced, ``Mr. Spelling promised me you'd make my hair look just like Dylan's.''

Stylist Eileen Bugnitz played along. ``Did he really?''

``Yes, he did,'' I answered confidently. ``And please, do all you can. We're about to compile my entire body of work.''

She proceeded to give me the best haircut I've ever had, applying techniques with scissors and combs I've never seen.

``You have nice hair,'' she told me. ``It's not dry at all. And I can't find a gray hair anyplace.''

Tori Spelling sat a few seats down, waiting for Bugnitz. Tori didn't seem to mind that she had to wait for my 'do to get done. She instead worked with a fake mustache prop she would wear in the episode.

We were introduced. ``Hi, Keith,'' she said. I answered, ``Hi, Tori. I'd turn around to say hello, but I'm not allowed. But it's nice working with you.''

Then it was back to my room, waiting for the call from makeup. Eventually, it would be back to the trailer where makeup man Justin Henderson, whose mother before him was a ``90210'' makeup person, made me beautiful.

``Remember, this is my entire body of work we're going to compile today,'' I implored. I asked him to draw me in a leading-man jaw line and accentuate my cheekbones. He said he could, laughed, and proceeded to cover my blemishes and give my skin a little color.

The makeup session was interrupted when I was called to rehearsal. A woman who for some reason called me Pumpkin (I called her Peaches back) said into her headset, ``Keith is walking.''

I knew that sounded familiar, but at first I couldn't place it. Then, a flashback, to 32 years ago: My mother calling my father at work. She also noted that Keith was walking, but she sounded much more excited.

Jennie Garth - who plays Kelly Taylor, the telegram's recipient - and I waited as Green and Tori Spelling rehearsed the first part of the scene.

``They'll get to us sooner or later,'' Garth said. ``Do you get the feeling this scene isn't about us?''

Us. She said it. TWICE!

They decided we would rehearse later in the evening. So I did another stint in makeup, where some lip balm was applied for a nice gloss, and hairs were plucked off of the bridge of my nose in case there was a close-up. Then I had some quiet time in my dressing room. And finally to the stage.

Garth and I rehearsed the scene in which I hand her a pen to sign for the telegram. She gave me a pointer, something I will never forget: ``Could you have the cap off the pen for me? It would make it easier.''

Now I understand that it's such give-and-take that leads to a brilliant performance.

Director Les Sheldon came over to see how things were going. I told him about Costello, my acting coach, and the decisions I made in how to play the part, how I did research by calling a messenger. I told him how I considered my motivation to get the telegram from my hand to Garth's hand without dropping it.

``I love that you took it so seriously,'' Sheldon said, and then called out to the stage, ``We're talking series here.''

After the rehearsal, the second team, including my stand-in, who steps into place so that marks for actors can be put on the floor and camera angles can be set, did their work. Then I was back in my position, getting ready to hit my marks. This one was for keeps.

``Keith, on action, knock on the door,'' Sheldon hollered, ``and ... action. Keith.''

Knock knock knock knock knock.

It went off without a hitch.

I said all of my lines as smoothly as possible: ``Telegram for Kelly Taylor.

``Sign here please.

``Oops, wrong one. Here please.

``Thank you. Have a nice evening.''

Then, I added a wink and a point with my index finger before my exeunt.

``Print,'' Sheldon called out.

We did it again for extra coverage, then Garth and I settled into the living room set of the beach house while they reset the cameras.

We talked about the last time we were in the same room, which was during the Spelling press conference in January. All I could do was run down reporters. ``Aren't they the worst?'' I said.

Remember, I was an actor.

Garth said she liked the fact that I threw in the wink and point. ``You added a little something,'' she said.

Back on set, we got the other angle - from my ``POV,'' industry talk for point of view, and looking at Garth.

Finally, after 7 p.m., more than five hours after I pulled onto the lot, it was a wrap.

Sheldon complimented me on my work, my eye contact with Garth and for not looking directly into the camera.

``Hey, I was in a zone,'' I said. ``I didn't even know there was a camera.''

Garth, who had worked about 14 hours that day, came over and said, ``Nice working with ya.''

CAPTION(S):

6 Photos

Photo: (1--Cover--Color) Special delivery

Our intrepid TV critic shares the stage with `90210' stars

(2) Daily News television writer Keith Marder's got ``talent'' - it says so on his parking spot at the ``Beverly Hills, 90210'' soundstage where he made his television debut.

(3) Keith - already in uniform - in his dressing room, which was in the same hallway as those for the ``90210'' regulars. Inside, a futon, a lamp and a telephone all were his.

(4) Stylist Eileen Bugnitz gets Keith's coif in shape. While he was in the chair, Tori Spelling had to wait.

(5) Jennie Garth, left, and Keith Marder - he would deliver a telegram to her ``90210'' character, Kelly Taylor - discuss their scene.

(6) Keith gets a little color from makeup man Justin Henderson.

Myung J. Chun/Daily News