If I ruled the world, part 85
In what was a random string of events, I ended up on a segment of Good Morning America yesterday morning.
"Why, Emily, that's wonderful!" you may say. "It's so good to see that all your time and dedication to comedy has finally paid off. It's only onwards and--"
Not so fast, I'd say, because my appearance had little to do with comedy and everything to do with Tom Cruise. Yup, I guess I should send my donation to the church of Scientology now. Besides, I’ve been wanting to take a stress test.
[A side note on Scientology: I don't think God likes them. When I first moved to New York a guy came up to me in Times Square and starting chatting away. I didn't know yet not to talk back. A few minutes into the conversation he starts in with his Scientology hook. A minute later a pigeon poops on his head. This happened approximately two more times to him during the 5 minute conversation. Coincidence? I think not.]
Anyway, we were interviewed about our thoughts on the man since he's been dropped by Paramount for his odd behavior. I thought long and hard before I opened my mouth. And when questioned, out came soliloquies about placenta and post-partum depression and suspension of disbelief.
Yet, what made it onto the two second clip was me smiling and saying something like "It's okay to love someone, but why does he need to publicize his every move?
Now, I'm not saying I'm surprised that things were cut. And I'm very happy for the opportunity. But what amazes me is that other people don't realize that things can get edited down. I mean, it's not like our opinions on Tommy were exactly groundbreaking news.
My grandmother called me yesterday after seeing the segment. "Just wanted to say I saw you on TV, honey, and I'm kind of disappointed. You just got to say one thing. I thought they'd interview you longer and you'd be funny."
Ah, family. Keeping other family members and their pride in check since, well, forever.