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Krrobi

Teacher / Writer

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View From Minnesota

  I called Barbra Walters this morning.

      “Hey Babs,” I said, cause we’re kind of tight like that. “Are you hiring any time soon? I mean, how long is the Woope sticking around, or that red headed fire cracker?” I went  on to admit how I’ve always wanted to work on “The View,” how I imagined myself sitting there at that round table sipping dark roast coffee, chatting about Obama and the economic crisis and the war in Iraq,  how I would’ve probably slapped Rosie directly across the face for her smears against The Donald. I felt bad for the guy, for his lack of hair, which he tried to wrap so elegantly around his forehead.  Can a guy help that he’s going bald?  Can a guy help that even though he’s rich as hell—he doesn’t have a decent hair dresser?  NO!  So, be nice.

      I told her about how I’d be better on the show than Joy because for some odd reason, Joy propels gallons of hot air round n’ round and it ends up no place except right in your face.  And how about what Joy said to Nancy Grace (my idol) about having a baby at 48? Now, I think this is extraordinary, but oh-so-snottily, Joy snickered something like-- ‘how does it feel having a baby soooo old?’ and Grace informed her that is was a blessing.

 Right back in your face, bIAAAach!   

      At any rate, I go on to tell Babs I’d be an asset on the show; I am foreword without being obnoxious, and I am loud without being rude. There is a difference between aggressive and assertive, ya know?  And what does she think about me, a 40ish Italian girl giving her show a little bit of oomph; a little bit of kookiness’, a little bit of illumination, rather than talk about all the serious, severe, unforgiving crap the women continue talking about?

          Why not meeeeeeeeeeeeeee?

     For one thing, if I worked on “The View,” I could possibly make over $30,000 dollars for once in my life. I could be somebody.  A contender.  Somebody.  Sorry, I’m getting carried away but it’s true.  All the writers I know teach English composition or creative writing or community education.  They have novels or books of poetry they are polishing up, editing, throwing across the freaking room—That is, after they work full time, make supper, take care the kids, clean house, do the washing, and give their partners a wham bam thank you maam; that is,  after they take care everybody else first and foremost. Not only that, but unless one of them wrote something like “Eat, Pray, Love”…. They are all  still working their butts off during the day and writing during the night, of course, earning very little mullah.

     So, if I could possibly spread my love and loudness around “The View,” wouldn’t that be deliciously, delectably delightful, a real kick in the ass?  I could work a little and write a lot.  I could cut my hours from 100 to 50!  I could hire a maid.  I could gather all of yellowed papers, napkins, and receipts scattered all over the house and begin some shining myself.  I could look at Woopi, Joy, Elizabeth, and Sherri… and boast, “Oh, yeah, girls, I’m part of the show now.  I write on my time off.  How do ya like those apples?

    I do hope Babs returns my call, cause all of this is on her answering machine.