Court TV Valentine

When I'm excited, I tend to do things with a flourish. Especially entrances. I am known for good entrances. Of course, this can easily backfire. For example, I was having drinks with the ex-publisher of High Times, Richard Stratton, who wanted to talk to me about the possibility of working on a television series. This was very exciting. So I came into the bar, very excited. I yanked my cap off my head with a flourish and threw it onto the bar. Think Robin Hood doffing his cap to the Saxon peasants. As Richard and I were talking, however, I began to smell smoke. This is strange, since bars in New York do not allow smoking. It began to get overpowering, and I turned around to find my cap quietly smouldering. I had, with a flourish, dropped it onto a candle. I started beating at it and the friendly bartender brought ice and put it out, but my favorite cap now has a quarter-sized hole in it. So much for entrances.

My point, tenuous as it is, is that sometimes I get excited and make grand gestures and, well, set my cap on fire. This is particularly worrying as I am going to be on Court TV on Valentine's Day. Namely, as a guest on the Catherine Crier Show. Now, I do a cable show every week, but I'm a little worried as this is a nationwide show. It doesn't help that Catherine Crier was a Texas prosecutor who became a state judge, before going into journalism. When you write a book that purports to tell people who to "survive sex, drugs and petty crime," you worry about appearing on television with, well, a Texas judge who, as someone noted, may not see eye-to-eye with my free-thinking left-wing rampant liberalism.

I admit it. Everytime I give an interview, I'm terrified that some federal prosecutor or state judge or U.S. Attorney General is going to say "Young Lady, on page 167, you say the penalty for such-and-such is this, when it is clearly thus-and-so. This book is rife with errors and is a serious danger to those who read it thinking it pertains to the actual laws of the United States. You must obviously be a great failure masquerading as an ex-lawyer. Both you and your parents must be ashamed of yourselves."

But I'm still excited. So maybe I can cover my usual sense of drama. Maybe I can say or do something outrageous that will distract her. Unfortunately, I only have one cap left