Tuesday, December 11, 2012

All They Needed was the Merv Griffin Show Furniture

We now return to our regularly scheduled blog post, or as some may refer to it dwelling upon the body of the dead horse Val beat while trying to pound it into the ground. Sorry if that's too graphic for you. I have never been...how you say...um...socially acceptable. At least I did not use that as my title.

The book-signing gals at The Book House on Saturday might as well have been hosting their own talk show. I envisioned Sioux as the host, because she was on the end, and had a hand in everything. Donna was relegated to co-host status because she sat beside the host. But she also doubled as sidekick, what with her snappy repartee. Beth the Bandleader was actually getting down to business, signing books as intended. Plus she was the most hip, as a bandleader should be. Not that I'm calling Sioux and Donna hipster doofuses.

Sioux welcomed Val with a crateful of fudge. That's why the green room was bereft of snacks. In addition, Sioux bestowed upon her first guest a Palahniuk. Talk about swag. This is the talk show to appear on. Sioux obviously didn't trust the cameraman to record the event for posterity. So she whipped out her own camera and stole a little piece of Val's soul. She was careful, though, to catch Val in a good light. One that did not expose her entire face. Nor break the camera.

Lynn, the producer/stage manager, the Gelman to Sioux's Regis, had her hands full. Keeping Sioux from darting offstage willy-nilly to purchase books for her guests was a full-time job. Which probably didn't pay much, because the host was throwing money away left and right on literature and fudge makings.

Donna the sidekick was content to bide her time. She may have looked sweet, sitting at the left hand of Sioux, but she had a little vinegar in her. Donna revealed herself like a Stealth Bomber on a nighttime training mission over a UFO convention in Roswell, New Mexico. Showing her true colors when Hick was welcomed to the stage. Donna smiled angelically as Val introduced Hick. "We've read all about you," she deadpanned. Sweetly. With a knowing smile. A smile not deciphered by Hick.

Guest comedian Linda O'Connell popped in. She had been scheduled as the warm-up act, but ran late due to her cookie addiction. Linda was kind enough to nomenclate Val with a new alias. Or two. The Hooker for short. And Streetwalker for long. Val was hoping that Linda might use the diminutive for that last one, and simply call her St.....alker. But that was not to be. Linda was kind enough to take time out from writing that new gift book bestseller, 101 Baby Names that Nobody Every Suggested, to appear on the show. People entering The Book House might have been surprised as Linda opened the door and shouted down the porch steps, "Hey! Hick!" just before snapping a picture. And been doubly surprised when a man responded, thus admitting to being a hick. They might have assumed it was some crazy thespian act to entertain them while waiting in line. Kind of like the train robbers at Silver Dollar City.

Tammy apparently got bumped from the show, due to Val bringing The Pony along for exposure. She was cordial to Val in the entryway as Val made it her exitway. Tammy is one smart cookie. Shh...don't let Linda hear that cookie part. As Val tried to trick her with a seemingly innocent inquiry as to whether Tammy's purse held blue pens, the light of realization dawned in Tammy's eyes. She snatched that purse away from Val's reach like the dogwalker snatched his leashed canine just before a sleeping Clark Griswold plowed over him with the Family Truckster. The purloining of pens was narrowly avoided.

Beth graciously struck up the band, the credits began to roll, and the show personnel chatted in a tightknit group about how best to rectify this episode's low ratings during sweeps week.


  1. That sounds like quite a book signing. I don't recall ever going to one as interesting as this one that you describe.

  2. Stop it! I had a two hour IEP today, went to dinner with two women friends, and stopped by the Writer's Guild Open Mic. My face hurts from laughing, my wrinkles are permanently deep set from snorting. I'm about to lose my cookies funny woman.

  3. Thankfully Hick only made a brief appearance with the other guests. Otherwise, we would have had the chance to ask the probing, inp-depth questions we had about the BarN.

    When you're in need of guests for YOUR show, please book us with plenty of advance notice. Our schedule is filling up quickly.

  4. It was tough keeping Sioux in line. She was on her best behavior, if you can believe that. I think I shall demand a raise... she thinks she can boss me around because she feeds me fudge. And Sioux's right, their schedules are filling up, so we definitely need some advance notice.

  5. Stephen,
    Somehow, I get the feeling not all book-signings are like this one. The fudge flowed freely.

    I would not want to make you part with your cookies. I think, perhaps, what you're not telling us, is that after all the above-mentioned activities, you sat down to write ten submissions, printed them, read them out loud, edited, then sent them off, and by morning you received nine acceptances, the lone non-acceptance being due to a bounce-back email.

    An interview with Hick would have been a delight. Kind of like a Who's On First routine. By the end, you might have renamed him Hoot.

    Okay. Let me notify you now. That should give you about ten years to free up your schedule.

    I could see an edginess just under the surface. Like she might run amok any minute. You looked nervous when she darted out to spend your salary on books for us. A look like an attendant might get when an inmate makes a dash in the asylum. The fudge is to lull you into complacency, allowing her to stretch her leash a bit.

    I told Sioux I was giving ten years advance notice. Shh...I'm letting you know that I really plan to have something in print within nine years. She'll never know.