Negative. The ultrasound one on Peg's legs, that is, No sign of blood clots. But now they want to do a chest ray. Not sure when that'll be. She's still got a terrible cough.
Nevertheless. She had her phone interview yesterday with Mike Sacks from Vanity Fair for some literary magazine, an interview I'd set up at his request, and reminded Peg of a thousand and one times, including one hour before Sacks was due to ring her and a sound recordist's arrival from Boston was imminent.
"Is that TODAY?" Peg says. "Christ! Is it Thursday? What'll I wear??"
"Anything you want, you're not on camera, Mother, I told you, it's a phone interview."
"Oh yes. That's right. Oh! I think I've figured out my opening too--"
"What do you mean, opening? This isn't a monologue, Mike will be asking you questions. You've had them since last week. Twice. And the answers. Bonnie printed them out for you, and so did Terri, when you couldn't find them. You don't need to "write" anything new. He wants the Charles Laughton story, the meeting JFK one, something I forgot, oh and the Lou Gehrig one."
"There's not much to tell about meeting Lou Gehrig."
"I know, so I told him to ask you about having room service waffles with Knut Rockne".
We went over the anecdotes a couple of times. I knew she'd be fine. And she was, at least with the stories, but her voice was so hoarse Mike says that they're not sure how much is usable. I feel badly.
And won't tell her. I'll tell her she was fabulous. (See how nice I can be when I want to?)
Mike says that the interview he did with her two years ago for his book that's just come out: "Poking A Dead Frog - Conversations With Today's Top Comedy Writers" seems to be everybody's favourite. Peg read the transcript yesterday and loved it.
"Marvellous!" she said, "For once, somebody's gotten everything absolutely right about me!"
I edited the interview for him. And told her.
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