It happens every time I’m on TV.  I get so uptight about doing a good job that I get goofy.  And that’s what happened yesterday as I talked to Leslie about our picnic at Eisenhower Park.  So as I beat myself up after the show it came to me.  An Epiphany!  There’s a a Pain/Food connection.  And it all started with my first TV appearance.

It all started when I was about seven years old.  In San Antonio you had "The Captain Gus Show" and where I grew up we had “Popeye and Pals”.  It was the Saturday morning kids cartoon shows where they primarily played Popeye and other cartoons.  However,  between cartoon they would interview kids that were used as a live audience.  The show was sponsored by Burger King and it was every child’s dream to be on “Popeye and Pals”.

So we applied and I was accepted.  This was my big chance.  As the day of the show drew closer and closer my imagination began to get the best of me.  By the time of the show I imagined that my on-camera interview would be so good that I would soon be the next child star. 

The day of the show came and all the children crowded into the bleachers.  The show began and all the kids in the bleachers went wild.  We were yelling and screaming.  As a group we had two jobs go nuts when they told us to (they didn’t actually play the cartoons while we were in the studio) and to yell “roll ‘em” to segue to a cartoon. 

In between, there was one-on-one interview time with the hostess.  I was in the middle of the pack.  I waited nervously as each child was interviewed.   And I became increasing worried about what I would answer when my time came.  I wondered what she would ask.  I wondered what I would say. 

One by one, she moved closer to me. I listened to the other children answer their questions.  I could do better than that.   Then came my opportunity.

“So what’s your name?”, asked the hostess.

Instantly, the nervousness turned to near paralysis.  I barely squeaked out, “Milton.”

“And how old are you?”

“Six”, I said.

“And how…”

She didn’t get a chance to finish her next question when I yelled out, “No, I’m Seven”.

“Okay, and…”

“No wait I’m six! No Seven.  I’m seven!”

At this point the hostess clear saw that this was probably best to move quickly to the next child.  I had blown it!  I was crushed!  No career as a child star.  No movies!  No television series staring my family touring the nation in our bus and playing sold out concerts.  I didn’t cry but I remember being extremely sad.  Until, they brought the Burger King burgers around.  My pain was assuaged a little more with each bite I took.   

So here’s the epiphany.  This is the breakthrough moment.  This is likely when I began to use food as a means of easing sadness and grief.   I think now that I’ve discovered this I can finally move on.  I’m ready to move on.  And maybe I'll be a little less nervous on TV, too.

Thanks for letting me share this story.  I feel better now that I’ve opened up. 

One more thing.  Leslie’s funny!   Before my interview with Leslie, during the break, Simon’s child began to cry a little off-set.  I leaned over to Leslie and said, “I’m sorry. That’s me, I’m a little gassy.”, alluding to a gassy baby.  I expected it to catch her off guard.  She just smiled and said, “I understand. Me, too.”   

Well, I thought it was funny.