Dear Betsy,
Agents must get tired of dealing with bottom-of-the-list artistes and cashing the 35-cent checks they bring in. Certainly you wonder when I, in particular, will learn to “pitch” ideas–but pitching is supposed to be a young folks’ game.
Really? How do you explain the success of the Phillies’ 46-year-old pitcher Jamie Moyers? Hey, that was the only baseball-related sentence I’ve ever written, but already I feel good about it. I guess I’ll go ahead and write pennant race, RBI and American League, which I’m quite sure is pronounced American Lig.
I make me feel so young, as Frank Sinatra said. My Morning Jacket, I mean.
I’m back in the game! Book ideas coming out my ears! Here’s one that can’t miss:
What’s Wrong With You People?
Here’s my ticket into the punditocracy. Positioning myself as a talking head, mostly through Max Factor Pankake makeup and power neckties, I’ll go off on anything societal about which I can manage to feel disdain. Penetrating essays? Hold the phone! My literary “voice” will be that of disapproving WASP parents who can’t get over the fact that Preston couldn’t cut it at New Haven and now attends Jim and Ellen’s Community College.
Possible topics for outrage: people who treat their dogs like kids, people who carry their dogs in purses, people who buy their dogs Halloween costumes. If I have to troll beyond canine offenses, no problem! I’ll rant about how straight marriage (and subsequent divorce) is sending the wrong message to our children and our children’s children.
TV and radio tie-ins here are obvious, and by today’s end, I should know if I’ll be getting a call from the new White House. Let’s give this baby the green light.
Yours in trenchant analysis,
Robin
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