Okay, not really. But he did compliment my interviewing skills, which really means a lot—especially since last week some guy, some Matt Cooper of whom I’ve never even heard, wrote a letter to the editor at Xpress claiming that the only reason I have my current job is “due to pictures that she has of someone higher up in a compromising position.” Even when it comes from someone whose own writing is riddled with spelling and grammatical errors, it still sucks to be called a bad reporter.
But Ira Glass—the host of NPR’s weekly program This American Life—thinks I’m alright, and who, really (except maybe Terry Gross) is in a better position to judge one’s interviewing skills?
My first-ever interview was with a professor of World War II history. He was about a million and ten years old and rather hard of hearing, but the phone call went well. I stayed late at my job at the time—I was working as an Admin Assistant in a swanky hotel—and surreptitiously conducted the interview at a coworker’s desk lest the call be traced back to my own phone. Later, at the same job, I spoke to Michelle Shocked while pretending to type a memo for my boss. Michelle was nice, even though her publicist had forgotten to tell her that he’d scheduled the interview and I caught her just as she was coming out of the shower.
I spoke to Michael Franti once while he was packing. His phone kept slipping and I couldn’t hear a lot of what he said. I spoke to him again, while he was waiting for his plane. He usually goes barefoot but he told me he made a concession for airports and wore flip-flops. I told him how I’d heard someone call them “flops” and that seemed so much hipper than “flip-flops.” He agreed. I didn’t tell him how I grew up with a dad who—despite many great qualities—insisted on calling the rubber sandals “thongs.” Talk about being scarred for life.
I spoke to Alejandro Escovedo multiple times, because he kept blowing me off. I’d get him on the line and then he’d say he was busy, or his wife had just walked into the room (not that we were having that sort of conversation) or he needed to go to a sound-check. We’d talk and his phone would cut out and it would be two days before I could reach him again. I chalked him up among my top three all-time worst interviews until I found out that days after our doomed conversation he collapsed from Hep C. I forgave him, after that. Plus, I had an interview with Bhagavan Das that far surpassed Alessadro’s phone call in suckiness.
Bhagavan Das, despite years of yogic training with top gurus, just plain didn’t want to talk. He told me to read his book. I did. It was so-so.
Ira Glass told me that he doesn’t plan to write a book. He’s into the instant gratification of broadcasting. I can respect that, though I suspect if he were to write a book it would be a good one. It would be rife with long pauses followed by startlingly sharp observations that would make the reader feel smart by association. I’d give it a glowing review, then I’d go to his reading and we’d share a knowing look over the book signing table.
“I remember you,” he’d say. “You ask good questions.”
“Yeah,” I’d reply. “That’s me.”
(Ira Glass will speak at the Thomas Wolfe Auditorium on Sunday, April 15; 7:30 p.m. For info, go to WCQS.)
—Alli Marshall, A&E reporter
I really enjoy Ira’s This American Life and Ira too. I’d be so nervous interviewing him (plus he’s cute) – glad it went well, Alli.
This American Life has been a staple of my day for a long time. I am excited about the show. Has anyone seen the Showtime version of TAL?
Does anyone know, with all the rain on the East Coast, did Ira make his dreaded plane to NYC?