Hello Milwaukee! After a long, tired and arduous journey to New York to work for an unnamed tabloid TV show for a few weeks, I’m finally back. I’d probably have been back a whole lot sooner had I had a decent and reliable Internet connection, a functional wrist and a regular couch to sleep on … but I’m not complaining. Just kidding, I totally am. Screw New York and screw the show that paid me half of what they initially said, didn’t put me up in a hotel and made me fly out of New Jersey. (If you don’t know New York, basically the only reason to ever go to the Garden State is if you’re itching to double down on eleven and/or buy efficient Swedish furniture. Maybe Newark is okay if you, say, live on Staten Island and have a car … but it’s a total pain in the ass if neither of those options apply. Personally, I prefer the cold, nasty touch of La Guardia, but that could just be because it only costs fifteen American dollars to get there from my old place in Brooklyn and not, say, seventy dollars from my friend’s place in Manhattan.)
But I did finally get to work in television, if only for three weeks, and that was wonderful. (Except when I sprained my right hand after slipping on wet pavement because it was sleeting every goddamn day I was there. Except sometimes during the 11 hours I worked, when the weather was suspiciously sunny. But later that night and the next morning? Sleet and lots of it. Oh, and in case you’re wondering, the hand still doesn’t work right and I’m still wearing a cast-like thing and I named my hand gimpy.) Essentially my job was to find and book people for minute-long segments on very random topics. So let’s say (for argument’s sake) that some of you watched this unnamed show every day at 3:00 in the afternoon on Channel 4. Well then some of you would have gotten to see the fruits of my labor in segments such as “Amnesiac Trucker,” “Very Young Children Who Weightlift,” “Women Who Box,” “Showdog Parents” and “Levis Sizing Machine.” Sadly, I did not do a single piece on the Olsen twins, Anna Nicole Smith or even J. Lo. But I did spend a whole morning trying to find out what kind of pajama bottoms Michael Jackson wore to court one day. (Still unknown!) And I got to meet the newest Bachelor—that guy who is Jerry O’Connell’s brother. I told him that I liked his work on the last season of “Sliders,” and he said that made his fan base grow to two —me and his mom. Oh that clever Bachelor! No wonder those women want to marry him! (I also saw Milwaukee native Gene Wilder in the office, but was so startled by his lack of a Willy Wonkaesque crushed velvet suit, that I sat in silence.) Unfortunately, the job didn’t last very long (freelance, sigh) and didn’t pay very well (media, sigh) and a decent, dog-friendly, one-bedroom apartment is at least $1,400 a month (New York, gag) … so I’m still calling Milwaukee home, at least for now. But if any of you wonderful readers know of any decent gigs in Los Angeles, I’m game—at least it doesn’t sleet there.