Okay, so I'd been emailing back and forth with Robin Schiff, the executive producer and writer of my beloved Grosse Pointe and also the writer and executive producer of Romy and Michele's High School Reunion, just generally chit-chatting and talking about what's next on her horizon, when Sars came up with the brilliant suggestion (and, really, isn't Sars ALWAYS coming up with brilliant suggestions? She's brilliant that way) that I ask Robin if she'd agree to an interview. I was all, "Oh, yeah, sure. Right! As if! Like she'd even answer my emails. Oh, wait. She actually does answer my emails. My bad. Um. Ohhh-kay. I guess I'll ask her..." And so I did. And so she agreed. And so I posted this noteworthy item on the boards. And so the posters went ballistic. Seriously. They were really curious about the status of the show, the actors, etc. So, Robin and I decided to go ahead with the interview.
And then all hell broke loose.
Okay, so, not really. Just my whole idea of recording the conversation via phone and phone call recording device turned out to not be such a stellar plan. I mean, the recorder didn't work with the device that the munchkin at the damn Radio Shack had shilled to me for twenty frickin' dollars; then the other device that Wedge was kind enough to pick up for me from yet another shyster Radio Shack agent of the devil wound up not working at all, and then Robin went out of town and it began to look like I'd never be able to actually put this damn thing in the can.
Luckily, Wedge lent me his speakerphone and Robin returned from her trip, and we set a date. Of course, this was about EIGHTEEN YEARS AFTER I ASKED HER FOR THE INTERVIEW.
I hadn't even begun the interview and I already felt like a super tard.
Fortunately, Robin was a really good sport and we got on like a house afire. The conversation we had was actually much longer than this printed interview, but so much of it was just she and I chewing the fat about various topics that I felt compelled to exclude parts of it, as they had nothing to do with the two reasons I was talking to her: Grosse Pointe, and Robin Schiff herself.
This is my first interview, people. Cut me some slack. And pass the Cheetos.
Okay. My first note here is that Robin actually called me a wee bit early because she's extraordinarily punctual and I happened to be enjoying a hearty meal of Spanish olives. Directly. Out. Of. The. Jar. So, the phone rings, and the caller ID shows me a number with an LA area code, and I'm panicking because my mouth is literally stuffed with half-masticated pimentos and olives. So I totally know it's Robin, but I have to let it ring because, you know, I CAN'T TALK, and I'm just imagining Robin out there in Hollywood all, "Goddamn this chick! She'll never get a job in this town! Can't even pick up the phone! What a loser!" So, picture me, in my sweltering living room, the TV on in the background, wearing only a slip (and not even a glamorously sexy one, either -- like, an old granny-type one...yes, I'm never having sex again, why do you ask?), sucking olives out of a jar and staring at the phone in abject fear. And that's how this interview began.