Unexpected circumstances found me at the Fairmont talking to Ira Glass of This American Life.
“I really wanted to come see you talk tonight,” I told him. “I was just too cheap to buy a ticket. But my friend here” — I pointed to David — “broke up with his girlfriend last night, so he had an extra ticket.”
I also gave Ira one of my business cards, which are designed to make an impression. They’re plain brown cardboard rectangles with “rox.com” hand-written with a Sharpie. When I explained that we’d been making a show “kind of like This American Life but not as good” for twelve years, he seemed interested, and he mentioned that they were shooting a TV pilot for Showtime.
“I’m not supposed to say anything about it,” he qualified. “Actually I’m under contractual obligation to say nothing.”
Then he was whisked away for a photo.
Later, at the Orpheum, he told a whole theater full of people the same thing: “We’re making a pilot for Showtime, which is never going to work out, which is why we’re doing it.”
And again he added, “Don’t tell anybody.” So you didn’t hear it from me.