Just when you think you’ve seen and heard it all, it gets curiouser and curiouser, folks.
First, I wrote up Hardcore Pawn as perhaps the worst, fakest reality show in all of Christendom.
The publicist (whom I know and like) then emailed me that the stars are her clients. I prepared for a telling off, but instead she asked if I wanted to sit down with the main guy from the show for an interview because he has a book out! Um, no, I don’t, but still, that was a great way to try and turn lemons into a high-class lemon cocktail.
The rising-above approach is generally more effective than the begging-you-to-like-them way, and everyone should realize that before making a public spectacle of themselves.
See, I just had a taste of the latter approach when I was sitting at a theatrical event and a 40-something looking guy (whom I shall keep nameless) sidled over to me.
He said he’s a fan of my writing and has found me charming on TV. Fair enough.
Then he blurted, “But I want to know: Did I do something to you? Have I offended you? I mean, you’ve written some things about me….”
Yikes. I was taken aback that (1) A Tony winner who’s gotten raves from virtually everyone would care that one guy in the corner doesn’t think he’s the greatest thing since Cole Porter.
(2) He thinks the way it works is that if a writer doesn’t like a composer’s work, it’s because the composer somehow offended him.
I didn’t budge in any way, simply saying “But I’ve never really gone after you in a personal or vicious way” without changing my placid facial expression. I’m a master at the withholding process.
“I want you to know I’m human,” he went on. “I create things. I make things…” Yeah, well so am I. So do I.
And as he kept digging his foot deeper and deeper, I realized this is a person who needs to be loved by the entire world, one person at a time, and if they don’t come around to worshiping him, he’ll plead at their feet to do so.
After that experience, I almost wanted to interview the star of Hardcore Pawn.