I had the foresight to go to bed early last night so that I'd be well rested for my interview.
Then I stayed up until about five am tossing and turning, imagining her questions, and answering them.
When my alarm went off at 8 I bolted up. I drank some delicious acerola cherry juice, took a shower, and put on my red shirt. A friend who's been on TV a bunch of times told me not to wear black or white. My three shirts are black, very dark blue, and red, so that was an easy choice.
By the way, I get a real kick out of wearing my same clothes everywhere. I've worn the same clothes running with the bulls, sleeping in a cave, eating dinner on the Queen Mary 2, and now on TV.
Doug came to pick me up so that I wouldn't have to worry about parking the RV and so that he could come hang out in the studio during the interview.
When we got there we were escorted to the lobby and left to our own devices. I imagined someone would be trying to put makeup on me and that I would maybe be offered a complimentary glass of water. Nope, just some leather seats and a flat screen watching the news.
Two minutes before my scheduled appearance time someone comes and gets me. No prep or anything.
I imagined that the studio would be bustling with commotion as newscasters poured through the news. Nope. Just a quiet camera guy and the two girls I'd met a couple days ago.
Another surprise is the amount of downtime in the studio. Even though it was a live show, there was plenty of time to say hi and joke around for a minute before the show started. A lot of the time is spent on recorded segments from outside of Austin and on commercials.
The camera guy put my mic on and I sat down with Jenny.
"Do I look at you or the camera?"
"Standby!" the camera guy called out.
And all of a sudden we were rolling. The interview passed in a blur. It lasted for three and a half minutes but it felt more like thirty seconds. I had no concept of how well I did, or even what my answers were. It was fun, though. I like high pressure situations and this was definitely one for me.
It actually reminded me a lot of the first time I did karaoke. We were at Krunkaoke, an all rap karaoke, so I knew I had to give it a shot. My friends knew this too and pushed me.
I was terrified when I got up to the stage, but I did okay. Not great, but it was enough fun that I knew I was hooked. After that there was practically no fear and absolutely no hesitation.
I think that's how TV is too. I had a great time and I can't wait to get in front of the camera again.
Here's the segment:
Well... I just got 2 TV interviews. It was really nerve racking. The situation doesn't give me any justice being how a 93 year old neighbor god shot.. Though, being on the radio is a little better.
Spending 70hours behind a microphone and only 4 minutes behind a camera the radio is better.. So far.
Thanks a lot everyone. I was WAY more nervous than I looked... I think that it's probably my PUA training that kept me looking calm.
You did absolutely awesome man. Is there anyway to get the clip to put on my youtube myspace and my new blog?
A year ago there was something called "Krunkaoke" every wednesday night at a club nearby. I went religiously and became one of the few creepy superstar regulars who dropped hot gangsta classics every Wednesday. The first time I went I was really nervous, but after doing "How We Do" by The Game, I was hooked. Eventually Krunkaoke became too packed (is that possible?), and they cancelled it!
Desperate for a Karaoke fix, I started going to Rain, which is a gay club a couple blocks from where I live. They had a cool light up stage, but the mediocre sound system and guys trying to grab my ass left me looking for alternatives.
Then one night it happened. I was working late and I thought I heard bad singing at the club downstairs. Could it be... Karaoke?
Yeah. I did. Thought I would give you the introduction. If you're interested in the rest of the book, you can get it HERE for .99.
Axe body spray hovered in the air. No. Not hovered. Stalked. It stalked the air like some impish poltergeist -- ready to find shelter in an unsuspecting host nose. It assaulted my senses about the same time a whiff of something sweet wafted by. Gum of some kind. Ugh. I grimaced.
It’s for my son. I’m here for my boy.
My wife led me through a pack of yapping hyena-girls, and for the first time I heard “Oh my Gawd” actually produce a Doppler effect as I passed quickly by their thirteen-year-old opinions.