My best, funniest interview ever is up on Scene of the Crime, and it includes a page from my SUPER SECRET journal from when I was a kid. What dark thoughts lurked in my childish noggin? Apparently they involved novelty socks. You can read it here.
It was Nikki of Obsessive Chihuahua Disorder who pointed out the Swarovski-studded toidy.
Now, this strikes me as inherently unhygienic, but the article mentions that the same maker came up with a chrome toilet, and I love that idea.
I think I’d have to make “vroom noises” while sitting on it.
Now, if your commode budget doesn’t stretch to the tens of thousands, may I suggest this small chrome toilet with a clock in the seat, which is also a business card holder.
I’m trying to think of an appropriate use for this sucker… Reminder card for your gastroenterologist appointment? Sales rep for a hangover cure? Bulemia support group? Help me out here.
It all began yesterday, as I stood in line at the Post Office. I checked my voice mail and there was a message from Dreux (pronounced Drew) DeMack, a producer at COCO (Colorado and Company), Denver’s Channel 9 morning show.
Hi, Esri! We were wondering if you could be on the show tomorrow to talk about The Portrait of Doreene Gray.
Eek! The message had been left at 11:00 that morning, and now it was 3:30. Due to a surfeit of stupid political calls, I’d been ignoring unknown numbers. I called back and told Dreux’s voice mail I’d be overjoyed to come. Then I rushed home and washed Josie O. Then I rushed to Nordstrom Rack and bought a cute new dress, suitable for TV.
But I didn’t hear from Dreux the rest of the day. I resisted the urge to beat my head against the wall. Now that I’d missed this chance, would they call again?
The next morning, today, I woke up around ten to eight and dialed Dreux’s number, just in case. He picked up.
Hi, Esri, I just walked in the office. Sorry I didn’t get your voice mail yesterday, but we’d still like to have you on today. Did you get the message I left on your phone about an hour ago?
I hadn’t, but the upshot was that they wanted Josie O and me there sometime between 9:30 and 9:45. It was now eight o’clock. I had an hour and a half to get myself and Josie ready and drive to Denver during the tail end of rush hour.
No problem, Dreux! I’ll be there!
Esri’s 4-Step TV-Prep Program
Step 1. Drink a cup of soy milk to avoid passing out from low blood sugar.
Step 2. Careful grooming: Brush teeth. Wet ridiculous bed head. Attempt style with super big bobby pins. Give up and pomade it into submission. Put a whole crap load of make up on, and the aforementioned dress.
Step 3. Get Josie’s stuff together. Sweater dress, toys, treats, food, water bottle, leash, ohmygod why does this dog have so much stuff?
Step 4. Drive to Denver.
We made it there at 9:20 or so – plenty of time for Josie to have a wee on the manicured lawn and for me to sign in and get my visitor’s tag. Dreux came out and met me, and was just as warm and welcoming as last year. Great guy. This time, I was with the regular host, Denise Plante, a tall, gorgeous creature with boots I wanted to steal right off her shapely legs. I refrained.
It’s chilly in a TV studio, except on the set proper, which is warmed by those bright, bright lights. Josie O sat quietly in her carrier while I reviewed my script and went over my answers to questions. Up on the set, Denise talked with guests about new treatments for thyroid problems and low mortgages. Dreux wandered over and looked down at Josie, who was napping.
Him: She’s really good.
Me: Next time, you’ll have her on and skip me.
Finally it was our turn. I ran the mic up my dress, made sure my books were propped up, and gave Josie a few treats. Earlier I had walked around the set to get her familiar with it, but she didn’t seem to care. Josie has been in so many situations that her attitude is, “Is this what we’re doing now? Okay then.”
Denise gave me a lovely introduction, read the blurb for my book, and then asked about Josie. As I answered, I put Josie on the floor and had her do a spin, then picked her back up and took her sweater off, so she wouldn’t get warm and fuss. We only had about five minutes, and she sat quietly in my lap the whole time, being cute, which is her job.
Then we were done, and it was time to pack up. I asked Drew when the show would air.
Didn’t I mention? This was live. We’ll probably run it again, though, because it’s general. I’ll let you know any subsequent air dates. Remind me to send you a DVD of your segment.
So there it was, my second time on COCO and Josie’s first. As before, I did fine, but I also could have done better. Short appearances are a real art, and it’s hard to stay tightly on message. But hey, I had a cute dog with me.
If you’re interested in Josie’s sweater, you can find it at The Doggie Market on Etsy.com. Just click here.
It would be kinder to eat that from the head down.
You have very poor impulse control.
See? Mommy doesn’t eat her poop.
Wake up and be cute.
And as a bonus, one from Angel Joe.
You’re kind of prissy for a cat puke and poo eater.
Yesterday, Josie O was gnawing away on a beef tendon while Joe and I looked on dotingly. Suddenly she started doing that peanut butter stuck to the roof of the mouth thing.
Me: She must have a piece of tendon stuck on her teeth.
Josie: (spits out little gristly looking thing)
Me: Aren’t you gonna eat it? You worked so hard to chew it off.
Joe: (puts bit of stuff on finger tip, offers it to Josie) Wait a minute, it’s a tooth!
So Josie, who still has some gaps in her mouth arsenal at 10 months, is still cutting teeth.
I don’t know if Josie really got stung by a wasp yesterday or not. She napped most of the day, and when her eensy dose o’ Benadryl wore off, she was as lively as ever, with no limp or sign that anything had happened. I never saw any swelling, so for all I know, she just stepped on something sharp. Regardless, she got a restful day out of it.
When Josie was at her most pitiful, I put Musette down next to her bed, to see if maybe she’d be sympathetic.
Musette (leaning in): Aw… What happened to– (stiffens) No! She is my sworn enemy! (stalks off)
I think Musette wants to try a friendly overture, but isn’t sure she wants the consequences. Come winter, when the outdoors ceases to please, that’s when it’ll happen. “The power of boredom compels you!”
Josie and I were outside when she suddenly let out a yip and ran for me and the front door, in that order, whimpering and holding up her left front paw. She’s been interested in the bees and wasps, so I figured she got stung.
Once inside, she got in her bed and licked her paw while I got a Benadryl gelcap and poked it with a pin. Gave her about half a drop, mixed with some honey, and now she’s like Bill Murray when they gave him the truth serum in The Man Who Knew Too Little. (“Are you a member of our Frequent Renter’s club?”)
Don’t know what kind of bug it was, but the first-aid instructions are the same. Good thing it wasn’t her face, or we’d be at the vet right now. So far her paw isn’t swollen very much at all. For all I know, it was an ant.
I gave Josie O my Popsicle stick to chew on while we were on the porch, and after a few licks, she accidentally pushed it through the crack between two boards and it was gone. She stared down in the exact manner of a kid holding an empty ice-cream cone.
I put the tuffet on the floor behind my desk chair so Josie O could keep me company if she wanted, then forgot all about it. Turned around and this is what I saw.
Just want to take a moment to pimp fellow mystery author Steve Hockensmith, who writes a bunch of stuff, including the Holmes on the Range series, which I love. In his recent blog post, he writes about the art of the short story.
Esri Allbritten 