And what is it about TV that makes viewers at home think they’re the near-and-dear of those who appear on it? For instance, I was always a fan of Michael J. Fox. I thought he was a swell actor, and I was sorry to hear he was ill. But why should Americans in general, none of whom have ever met the man, be more concerned with stamping out Parkinson’s than Alzheimer’s or Sickle Cell or leukemia just because the fellow who played Alex Keaton suffers from the one and not from the others?
Speaking of TV personalities, I must confess I’ve never seen Katie Couric. I have heard her described as perky and bubbly, even effervescent, as if she were actually carbonated. As you may have guessed, anybody who can be that way early in the morning is nobody I want to be around. However, I don’t care how much they pay her to be a news anchor; it’s not my money. Furthermore, I don’t know why anybody watches the news on the three major networks. In the course of a 30-minute broadcast, after all, half the time is spent selling detergent, cars and denture crème, and the other half is spent pitching the liberal agenda.
My problem is that when my new book comes out in September, I’ll want to go on Oprah’s show to plug it. But, for the life of me, I don’t know what we’d talk about. I’m not on drugs, I’m not gay, I’m not a member of a cult, I’m not a plagiarizer, I’m not going with Angelina Jolie and, despite rumors to the contrary, I’m not having Tom Cruise’s baby!