I had a FUNNY dream last night about finding myself on a writing team at some major studio.
In the dream, I found myself in some kind of “production meeting” at a studio, ostensibly (I thought at first) to offer insights on a sales piece which the assembled folks were trying to finalize to best effect.
I had written something I considered compelling and very conversion-oriented, and the team had created something else that was much shorter (just a couple of lines, actually) that missed 100% of the selling points of my sales piece. I was trying to figure out why they thought their sales piece was better.
They thought I’d love it because the perk/selling point in theirs was that whoever engaged would get a chance to hang with Kris Smith for a day, — which sounded flattering as hell, but I couldn’t figure out why they thought that offer would make even a single sale.
I countered with, “But nobody outside this room even knows me!” (so why the heck would anyone give a rip that they’d get to spend time with me)? (Nobody who actually knows me would pay money to spend time with me! They spend time, of course, which is a rich form of currency in a far too-hectic world, but not money!)
The piece I had written had zero/zip/nilch to do with me. In my dream, I was just me, an anonymous sales page writer! The piece I had written offered something I considered totally alluring and conversion-worthy; theirs offered ME. I just couldn’t get there. I considered their pitch Dead on Arrival!
That’s when things started to get funny. The head honcho said, “The ball is in your court. Make this happen!”
I felt put totally under a spotlight, suddenly. My brain went entirely blank! Here were all these people (five or six) hanging on my next utterance, with enormous expectation on their faces.
CORNERED…
Feeling cornered and completely helpless, I decided to “portray” a person at wit’s end (which I was) in the most histrionic way possible. I folded my arms over my head as if to ward off impending blows to my skull, assumed a “Why Me?!” whipped chimpanzee posture, and started to utter a sololiquy about why, in their greatest moment of urgent need, I was completely unable to come up with a single winning idea, let alone a friggin’ masterpiece!
The more dramatic and histrionic I became, the more robustly they laughed (not at me, but in the way fans laughed at Robin Williams when he performed). I was hoping I could keep it up until my missing Muse could return and rescue me from the chaos and panic my mind was in trying to come up, on the spot, with a new winning sales pitch!
Some of the assembled people were laughing so hard it looked like they might wet their pants. Then the head honcho said, “Now do you see why winning a day with you would be a plus for someone in need of a good laugh?”
HUH?!
“But NOBODY KNOWS ME! And I have never even done anything like this in front of YOU before!”
ha ha ha ha ha
They just coudn’t get enough! Here I was — dying! — and they’re dying with laughter!!!
They were laughing so hard that I finally awoke, by now laughing myself awake at how preposterous this whole thing was!
BUT NOW I THINK I UNDERSTAND
I think this dream was a throwback to the time I was working as a writer’s assistant at Culver Studios in Clyde Phillips’ office. You may have read the story in my book of humor, FLOATING AROUND HOLLYWOOD. The chapter is called They Call Me Walrus Woman.
It was also reflective of the many times that reliable, trustworthy friends told me I should “Take my show on the road.” One says I have a rubbery face and expressions like Lucille Ball (and the red hair to go with it); the Kelleys used to say, “You keep us in stitches with your letters,” and once in Oakland after presenting “Husband Hunting on the Enterprise” — a stand up comedy routine I wrote — a TV show host approached , presented me with his business card to prove he was legit, and then asked if I would stay a day and present the skit to his studio audience in San Francisco.
I backpedaled mightily, saying, “This routine will only work for Star Trek audiences. ” He said, “Don’t worry about that. I’ll assemble a Star Trek audience for you!Will you do it” I chickened out because I had a return flight to WA that very afternoon and a friend who was coming along to WA with me and staying another night would have involved cancelling flights, staying in a hotel an extra night, etc.). So, I sadly declined (with thanks for the kind implied compliment!) and he said, “Keep the card. If you ever get back to San Fran, let’s do this!”
I have often wondered what would have happened had I taken the fellow up on his request. Could have gone nowhere. Could have launched a stand up comedy career. Would I have preferred that over what I got instead, and have now?
Probably not, but it would have been a fun and fantastic side trip, as long as it didn’t totally derail me from the trajectory my life took after that. I have loved my life since 1989 better than nearly everything that came before it.
