Seriously... I'm Kidding (10 page)

And they lived happily ever after. (Not really.)

Talking Hard

T
here are a few things I didn’t realize would happen when I signed on to host my talk show. One, I didn’t know that for the first three months of the job, I would have a recurring dream where Maury Povich invites me on his show to tell me that Phil Donahue is my biological father. And two, I didn’t realize how much I was going to have to talk. Oh my heavens, there’s a lot of talking. I know the job title is “talk show host,” but I guess when I first started I focused more on the “host” part. I picked out nice candles for the guest dressing rooms. I made sure the lighting was just right. I stocked the rooms with champagne and fresh strawberries. I even picked out soft robes and underwear in case anyone wanted to get more comfortable. Sure, a lot of my guests initially thought I was hitting on them, and that was my mistake.

I just didn’t realize how much talking it would involve, and my job isn’t a job where I can ever take a day off. Believe me, I’ve tried. The studio is always like, “You signed a contract to be here every day, blah, blah, blah.”

It’s a lot of pressure. It turns out if I stop talking the show comes to a complete stop. It’s the same as writing this book. If I don’t write, nothing happens.

Do you see what I mean? It’s pressure.

And it’s not just the talking. I also have to listen! When I ask my guests questions, I don’t know how they’re going to answer so I really have to pay attention. In real life, when I ask someone a question I can nod and pretend like I’m listening, when really all I’m thinking about is how cute it would be if my cat could play the ukulele. If I daydream like that on my show, I’m being “rude” to “Julia Roberts.”

Don’t get me wrong—I love my job, but let me just break down how much talking there is on my show. Every day I start with a monologue. That’s all talk with some occasional singing because when you have a voice like mine you have to share it with the world. Then I sit down and I talk to my DJ. We make small talk. After that I talk to my audience about what’s going on in my life. I love talking to my audience. Over the past nine years, I feel like I’ve developed a relationship with them. It’s one where I do most of the talking and we eat all our meals separately, but it works for us.

After I talk to the audience, we take a commercial break, and during the break I talk to my producers. They tell me stuff like, “You look great” and “You were so funny when you said [INSERT HILARIOUS JOKE HERE].” It’s not like they have to say that stuff or anything, but if they do they get entered into drawings to win fun prizes. Then we come back from commercial and I talk to my guests. Now, I love talking to my guests. I have had the chance to interview some absolutely incredible people—everyone from actors and musicians to powerful world leaders like the president of the United States and Justin Bieber.

But let me be clear. Not all of my guests are easy to talk to. Most of them are. Most of them come on with great stories to share and great energy. We have a nice time. We dance with each other, we chat, we do shots. But every once in a while, a guest will come on who isn’t the easiest person to have a conversation with. I can’t name any names, of course. Well, I can name one: Harry Connick Jr. He’s like talking to a wall. It is impossible and I can’t pretend otherwise anymore.

Meeting and talking to my guests is a lot like being at a cocktail party with people you’ve only met once or twice. When you first see each other, you’re not sure if you should shake hands or hug or kiss, so you end up doing that awkward handshake-half-hug-oh-my-goodness-we-almost-kissed-on-the-lips-because-I-didn’t-know-which-way-to-turn-my-head! combination greeting.

Then after they sit down, I try to compliment them right away. I’ll say something like, “You look great” or “It’s so nice to finally meet you.” And they’ll say something like, “Thanks, you look great also” or “We’ve met before.” And then they’ll launch into their personal stories.

I’ve definitely noticed some patterns over the years in the way certain people tell stories. First of all, you can always tell how interested you’re going to be in a story based on how it starts. If it starts with the sentence “Wait until I tell you about my new shower caddy,” I don’t need to hear the rest of it. But if it starts “I survived twelve years in the jungle on nothing but berries and thistle,” I’m in.

I’ve also noticed that when people say, “You are never going to believe this story in a million years,” I am almost always able to believe it. And when people say, “Long story short,” they either say it after they’ve already told about fifteen minutes of an incredibly long, boring story, or they say it in the middle of what could be a really good story, like, “Well, we woke up and had breakfast out on the deck, like we do every morning. And long story short, I am no longer welcome in Mexico.”

Obviously, it’s my job to keep the conversation going and headed in a good, positive, upbeat direction. So I’ve learned that there are definitely questions to steer clear of to make sure that happens. If any of you ever decide to host your own talk show—and I encourage you to do so—here are some things you should never ask a guest:

1. How old are you really?
   

2. And where is
   that
   tattoo?
   

3. And where is
   that
   piercing?
   

4. What an interesting story that was about your belt. Tell me more.
   

5. Could we see more pictures of your wife giving birth in the tub?
   

I genuinely do love what I do. I like getting to meet new people every day, I like introducing my audiences to new music and talent, I like helping people. It’s not like I’d rather be a mime. I mean, they have to wear far too much makeup.

Pros and Cons

B
y a show of hands, who has a hard time making decisions? You know what, I just realized I can’t see you. This is a book! I wish I could see you. Well, not all of you. I don’t know where you are or under what circumstances you’re reading this. If you’re sitting on a bench in a beautiful park, maybe somewhere in Colorado in the middle of summer, I’d love to be able to see you. Colorado is beautiful in the summer.

Or if you’re sitting next to a fireplace, next to a big window overlooking a snowy field, maybe somewhere in Colorado in the middle of winter, I’d also love to be able to see you. Colorado is beautiful in the winter.

I’d love to be able to see some of you even if you’re not in Colorado. It’s just that a lot of people read books while they’re in the bathtub and if that’s the case, then I do not wish to see you. Unless you’re in Colorado and it’s fall and you have a breathtaking view of a lush forest from your bathtub. Then, perhaps.

Because I can’t see you, I’ll have to assume that a lot of you have a hard time making decisions. Sometimes I have a hard time making decisions and I like to think that I have a lot in common with my readers. (Who else considers a glass of wine a serving of fruit? Me, too!)

Throughout my career, I’ve had to make a lot of very big decisions, many of which had huge impacts on my life. The material I decided to do for my first appearance on
The Tonight Show
with Johnny Carson led to Johnny calling me over, which literally changed everything for me. (My decisions to sport a mullet with bangs and wear Hammer pants remain questionable.)

A lot of people are good at making decisions. They know what they want and they can make up their minds quickly. I call those people “Quick Decision Makers.” Some people, however, are very, very bad at making decisions. They waver back and forth and might linger on an issue for days or weeks or even years. I call those people “Annoying.” Here’s a fun fact: Quick Decision Makers are often stuck behind Annoying people in line at Starbucks.

Whenever I have to make an important decision, I like to make a list of pros and cons. That way I can see all the positives and negatives right there in front of me and I can decide what will work best for me. I highly recommend it. Can’t decide if you should quit your big city job and move to a small town? Make a list. Not sure if you should plan a huge, fancy wedding or elope? Make a list. Debating whether to buy a really awesome fancy new car or send your kid to college? Make a list.

I wanted to show you how helpful a pros and cons list can be, so I’ve gone ahead and made a list of the pros and cons of making a list of pros and cons. Look it over and then you can decide for yourself if a list is right for you.

Pros and Cons of Making a List of Pros and Cons

PROS

• Aids you in making well-informed decisions.

• Helps you to feel organized and in control of your life.

• Allows you to put off making an actual decision.

• You might decide to make your list while you’re flying on an airplane next to a very attractive person. You’ll take out a piece of paper and realize you need a pen. You’ll ask him or her if he or she has a writing utensil, sparking a conversation about how you’ve both been to Paris in springtime. You’ll fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after in a mansion made out of clouds.

• Lists are fun.

Pros and Cons of Making a List of Pros and Cons

CONS

• Forces you to make well-informed decisions so you can’t say stuff like, “I don’t know why I bought this ten-thousand-dollar antique spoon! I wasn’t thinking.”

• Takes away time that could be spent napping or playing video games.

• Takes away time from making your actual decision.

•             Can be hard to figure out margins.

• You might decide to make your list while you’re flying on an airplane next to a very attractive person. You’ll take out a piece of paper and rummage through your bag for a pen. Once you find it, you’ll exclaim, “Found it!” and reach your arm up, immediately knocking it into the tray table of the attractive person next to you. Their water will go flying through the air, soaking them and you and the flight attendant, who happens to be walking by at the time. Everyone around you will be upset, you’ll have to sit there without moving an inch for the rest of the six-hour flight, and you won’t marry the stranger on the plane, something you’ve dreamed of doing since you were six.

• What was I trying to decide?

Additional Thank-Yous

I
just remembered some people I forgot to thank in the acknowledgments. Deepak Chopra; my third-grade teacher, Mrs. Grady; the New Orleans Saints; my cats Charlie, George, and Chairman, who are my dawgs; my dogs Wolf and Mabel, who are really cool cats; everybody at NASA; Kate Middleton; and the nice man at the supermarket today who let me pay ahead of him because I only had one item. Thank you.