Interview

Today, I’m a star. I get interviewed, as though I were some kind of BIG DEAL. Tomorrow, I’ll be a bum again.

Kuanyin, of WHO'S YO MOMMA?, has given me five questions to answer. I’m going to do so as honestly as is possible for a big liar like me.

(You can be a BIG DEAL. Go to her site and tell her that you want to be interviewed. Then you can pretend that you’re something special, too.)

(Not that you aren’t something special already. I mean, you read ME. Just being associated with a BIG DEAL like ME has already given you special status. You’re welcome.)

(What’s extra-groovy about asking Kuanyin to interview you is that she’s Hawaiian. She’ll say cool things like “Aloha!” and “Mahalo!” I’m not sure what “Mahalo” means. From the context, I think it might mean “Thank You,” but who knows? It could mean “Get Bent, Mainlander.”)

(Nah, probably not. She seems really nice. Besides, why would she say “Get Bent” to a really BIG DEAL like ME?)

Without further ado – because ado is a don’t, for serious writerly-type BIG DEALS – here is the interview.

Do you feel uncomfortable going alone to dinner, movies, or events? What about going on vacations?

Movies? No. I often went to movies alone when I was younger. I rather enjoyed the solitude afforded by the cool darkness of a theater. Of course, they were porno movies. I would have rather had a date.

Seriously, though, I don’t mind being by myself. I was an only child, so I learned early on to enjoy my own company. I think the only thing I feel uncomfortable doing alone, in public, is eating. There’s something inherently melancholy about a table for one in a restaurant. And I never know what to do with myself while waiting for the food to come. You can’t just stare at the other folks who are eating, unless you’re truly weird and don't mind looking like a psycho.

I’ve taken vacations alone. I much prefer vacationing with MY WIFE. We're true soulmates. I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of arguments we’ve had in 15 years of marriage. While on vacation, if one of us wants to do something, the other is either willing to go along with it or gives a blessing to go do it alone, so no problem.

Would you be willing to have frightening nightmares every night for a year if you would be rewarded with a million dollars?

Do I get the money before the nightmares or after?

Seriously. If I had the money in hand, I wouldn’t want it taken from me. That would give me extra incentive to continue. If the money were just a nebulous thing in the future, I’d probably be tempted to throw in the towel during the first couple of weeks.

I think the real deciding factor would be what I might need the money for. If it was for something desperately needed, that I otherwise would have no chance at - perhaps an operation for a loved one or some similar situation – then I’d do it with no hesitation. Otherwise, I don’t know. I haven’t spent $100 on clothes in the past two years and I’m just as happy with top of the round as I am with fillet mignon. Money is very rarely a deciding factor in my happiness.

Do you prefer being around men or women? Are your closest friends men or women?

In bed, I prefer being around women. In athletic competitions, I prefer being around men. Most other times, I’m fine with a mix of whatever is handy.

My best friend is a woman. That would be MY WIFE. She posits an interesting theory, by the way. She believes that you can fall in love with anyone, regardless of sex, and then accommodate yourself to the sexual part of it. I think there may be some truth in that, but I’m still glad her name isn’t Fred.

Would you accept $40,000 to shave your head and go about your everyday activities without a wig or a hat, and without explaining the reason to anyone for your haircut?

Send the check to Jim Sullivan, 93 Winsor Avenue, Watertown, MA, 02472. I’ll be waiting, razor in hand.

I think I started losing my hair sometime around my 20th birthday. That’s an estimate only because I never knew I was losing my hair until I was 23 or so. I was standing in line in a convenience store, one of those with closed-circuit TV monitors to prevent shoplifting. While I was waiting to check out, I looked up at the monitor and noticed the people in line. It was showing a shot from behind us. In my head, I said, “Fat guy, cute girl (nice ass!), bald guy, old lady… Hey, wait a minute! Where am I?” Then I realized I was the bald guy! I was absolutely mortified. I truly had no idea, right up until that moment, that I had a huge bald spot. I paid for my stuff, drove home, and the next day I invested in hats.

I’ve been almost completely bald on top for at least 12 or 15 years. For $40,000, I’ll be glad to go the rest of the way. As a matter of fact, I’ll truly make it worth your while. Send me the check and, after it clears, I’ll shave my entire body. AND send you pictures.

If you could wake up tomorrow in the body of someone else, would you? Who would you pick if you chose to do so?

I’ve got a good trick answer to this question, but it’s probably not in the spirit of it. Yes, I’d trade bodies with someone else. I’d like to wake up tomorrow in the body I had when I was 17 years old.

I suppose it has to truly be someone else, though, right? I don’t think I’d do it. I’ve been blessed with a fairly healthy and quick-healing body. I enjoy how it works and I rarely have any significant complaints. Who knows what’s lurking inside of somebody else's body? Some stud with what looks like a magnificent physique might have a hideous disease just around the corner. Better the devil you know.

If I can add one qualifier to the question, I’ll give a different answer. If the change would be for a limited time, with a guaranteed return to my own body in the not-too-distant future, I’d trade with President Bush. We’d be out of Iraq so fast your head would spin. And then I’d grant executive clemency to every person in jail on a marijuana-related conviction; abolish the DEA and the ATF, channeling the money saved into true national defense; and write an executive order proclaiming cell phone use while driving a crime punishable by death. Then I’d have lunch.

Now, I’d be a bit worried about what Bush would do with my body, but I’d take the chance. I probably wouldn’t have to worry too much, though. I bet he’d be thrilled to be such a BIG DEAL for a few days.