I read this article and thought it would be a perfect opportunity to laugh especially for those who are not “A” type personalities. Enjoy.

MY WEIRD CLAIM TO FAME
By Saralee Perel

The neat thing about being a writer is if you’re terrified of talking to people, you never have to.

Or so I thought.

A woman from a Boston radio station left a message about interviewing me. I begged my husband, Bob, “Please call and say I’m disabled (true) and can’t talk (lie).” He refused.

“What should I wear?”

“It’s over the phone.” He sat me down. “Sweets, just be yourself.”

Not good advice. Being myself would mean responding to every question with, “Can I hang up now?”

The interviewer was intimidating. “Today we have author – ” Silence. She screamed, “Where are you?”

“Here! I thought you’d say my name.”

“We’re testing your voice.” She started over, “We have author – ”

I forgot my name. Scrambling through papers on my desk, I found a phone bill. “Got it! Mrs. Perel. Mrs. counts, right?”

She suggested I seek therapy. Bob made a sign with my name. That worked. She asked a question. Silence. She said, “Did we lose you?”

“I was petrified of what you’d ask so I wasn’t listening. What was the question?”

“Please read a one of your columns.”

I had known ahead she’d ask this, so I started reading.

“I meant OUT LOUD!”

After my reading, she said, “I read your novel. Has your agent had your sequel published?”

“I don’t know. I’m scared to call him.” Realizing there’d be thousands of listeners, I got excited. “Could someone call and say you’re me? Wait – I’ll get his number.”

When the interview ended, she named five therapists.

Last week I received an e-mail from the American Council of the Blind. The subject line: “Appearing on our Internet talk show.”

I agreed to it. Via amazing computer technology, people around the world asked me questions. I was guzzling soda – my mouth dry from anxiety. Bob held a sign, “You’ll need the bathroom.” I kept guzzling.

Bob tried to get me to lighten up. I wore headphones. He couldn’t hear questions. When someone said, “This is Sherry from South Africa. Would you mind telling us about your disability?” Bob held a sign, “Ask her if she’s wearing anything.”

That sent me into hysterics. I said, cackling like a lunatic, “I have spinal – spinal – ” gasping for air, “spinal cord – ” with insanely escalating roaring belly laughter, I shouted, “disorder!”

“It’s funny?”

I blurted, “It’s – ” then screeched, “terribly depressing!” and covered my face with a pillow to squelch my hysteria.

I kept guzzling soda. Did I mention this was an hour-long show?

When it ended, I shouted, “Man, I need a bathroom!”

Then I heard, “This is Carol from Wisconsin.” Yes. I was still on the air.

And so, before closing, someone asked, “How would you like to be remembered?”

After extremely careful thought, I finally said, “As the very first person who went to the bathroom, and made world-wide news by doing so.”

————————-

Award-winning columnist/novelist Saralee Perel can be reached at sperel@saraleeperel.com or via her website