Velcrometer
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
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M. Giant's Velcrometer Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks |
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Saturday, August 02, 2008 Day Tripper (Part Two) So here's what happened, and why I'm at E! in the first place. The Penguin publicist who's been working with my book has sent it out to all sorts of media types, and one of those is a casting person at the entertainment network who digs my work and wants to see if I'd be a good addition to their stable of "pop culture experts" who serve as talking heads on their specials. I guess they're always looking for new faces, because you never know when Michael Mustow might have a deadline or something. Plus there's that panel table on Chelsea Lately, which is apparently an insatiable maw to be constantly fed. I might hear back in a month that they have a use for me, or it mught be longer than that, or it might be never. We'll see. It was fun either way. My day continues: 4:20 p.m. On the way into the meeting room, my host runs into Joel McHale and introduces us. Joel McHale is even taller than you think, and very nice. "He works for your favorite website," my host tells Joel McHale. "You work for the Onion?" Joel McHale asks me excitedly. No, his other favorite website, we tell him. 4:55 p.m. After spending some quality time sitting in a chair and talking while positioned between a video camera and a backdrop curtain that's the exact same color as my shirt, I'm cut loose for the day and told they'll be in touch when E! needs an on-air talking head who is…uh…me. That was fun. 5:45: p.m. The Borders at Sunset and Vine is the hardest place to find my book since Barnes and Noble didn't have any at all. It's in a narrow, unlit aisle, on a top shelf so high that Joel McHale would need to stand on tiptoe. I take the three copies to a desk and offer to sign them. For a moment, she thinks I just brought them in to stick on their shelves. If I thought it was that easy, I would have done it a long time ago. I consider hitting one more book store, but I've got dinner plans and at this rate the next place will have my book in the bathroom, with the pages ripped out and wrapped around the toilet paper spindle. 6:30 p.m. I'm standing at the bar and directly in front of me, by prearrangement, is Pamie. Directly behind me, by coincidence, is John Henson. Somehow, through a superhuman effort of will, I manage not to loudly say, "Look, Pam, it's Jim Henson!" Pam will end up buying me dinner for this. So that's Joel McHale and John Henson sightings in one day. I suddenly feel the need to go back out on the street and score celebrity sightings of Greg Kinnear, Hal Sparks, and Aisha Tyler as well. Collect all five! Apropos of nothing, there's going to be a movie premiere up the street later. I've already seen a surprising number of Kardashians there, or reasonable facsimiles thereof. 1:20 a.m. Tuesday I realize that aside from a few brief, fitful naps on the plane here, I've been awake for over 22 hours and it's starting to catch up with me, along with the beers I had with dinner and the glass of Couch Baron's wine I had in his apartment with him and Pooh (did you know CB moved to L.A.? He's Beverly Hills-adjacent now). I was glad to be offered an exit row window seat at the ticketing desk, but now I learn that passengers in the exit row are required to be awake, with their eyes open, during takeoff and landing. Twice I have to be told this, because I've got nothing to read and I'm not allowed to have my laptop out, which means I keep dozing involuntarily. In my current state, it strikes me that this is the cruelest, most arbitrary rule I've ever heard of. As the plane finally rotates upward at the end of the runway, my last thought before conking out is that this'll be the first time in over a decade that I've flown east into the sunrise. I should stay up and check out the view. Yeah, right. ?:?? a.m., time zone unknown Eh? Window…pink…pretty…zzzzz. 7:30 a.m. Central Home from my day-trip, 26 hours later, I go to arrange the bedcovers to I can crawl in between them. M. Edium's portable DVD player slides out from its hiding spot between the sheets and lands cornerwise on my left second toe. It hurts enough that it takes me almost a full minute to fall asleep. I have mixed feelings about missing the earthquake by twelve hours, but it's good to be home. posted by M. Giant 2:29 PM 1 comments 1 Comments:If I thought I had a shot at meeting Joel McHale, I'd write a kick-ass book too. I laugh just looking at that guy.
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