Tuesday, May 22, 2012

May 22: Cracking Jokes, Terror, Interview

Scrooge was not much in the habit of cracking jokes, nor did he feel, in his heart, by any means waggish then.  The truth is, that he tried to be smart, as a means of distracting his own attention, and keeping his terror; for the spectre's voice disturbed the very marrow in his bones.

Scrooge, confronted by the ghost of his dead business partner, is terrified.  Instead of pissing his nightshirt and fainting, which would have been my reaction in the given situation, Scrooge uses another defense mechanism:  sarcasm and humor.  He makes fun of Jacob Marley's ghost, even taunts him.  Of course, Jacob doesn't take very kindly to Scrooge's barbs, and he soon has Scrooge cowering in his chair.

I'm very much like Scrooge when I find myself in uncomfortable places.  I use humor to deflect my anxiety.  The more nervous I am, the funnier I try to be.  Thank goodness, I am blessed with the ability to think pretty quickly on my feet.  I use this talent in the classroom, in social situations, in more formal events (like poetry readings or panel discussions), and in interviews.  If I start making fun of myself, I'm nervous.

I have to do a podcast interview this afternoon.  The interview is to promote the 2012 U. P. Book Tour, of which I'm a part.  I'm supposed to talk about the Book Tour and myself, and, I guess, attract/entice people to come to the events I'm appearing at.  In the process, I'm also supposed to be witty and charming.  It's kind of a tall order.  Needless to say, I'm a little nervous about the whole prospect.

The only bright side is that the person doing the interview is someone I know (the brother of a old friend of mine).  That makes the process a little less nerve-wracking.  That's not to say I won't be a stuttering mess, but at least I'll be stuttering mess with someone I know.

I'm currently dosing myself with caramel-infused brownie, which does absolutely nothing for my jitters except provide a pleasant, sugar-coated caffeine buzz.  I contemplating eating two or three more of them.  If I do that, I'll either sound like a coke-addict during the interview, or I'll slip into a diabetic coma and miss the entire thing.

Saint Marty needs to find his inner-Johnny Carson today.

Heeeeeere's Saint Marty!

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