NPR Makes My Stomach Growl

The occasion of our first book tour was a wild ride. We published the story of our quest to find out what happened to the infamous pirate, Jean Laffite and suddenly found ourselves swamped with requests for personal appearances, presentations, interviews, and book signings. It was a situation that turned out to be ripe for disaster.

While we may have unexpectedly turned out to be whiz-bang pirate detectives (we were as surprised as anyone when we proved what really happened to Laffite), our ability to schedule ourselves for a two-week-long run across the Gulf Coast was a different matter. Thankfully we did not double-book anywhere, but there were days when we just barely came in under the wire.

One of those days involved a mid-morning presentation and signing that ran so close to a live telephone interview on the local NPR station that we had no time for lunch. In fact, we barely made it back in the door of our hotel room and settled in before the thing began.

Out of breath and trying not to let that come through over the phone, we signed in and began our chat with the NPR lady. She was one of “those” - formal, prone to lofty questions, had one of those smooth DJ voices that no one uses in real life. She offered helpful instructions about keeping our peripheral noise out of the mix - no ruffling papers, moving chairs, TV running in the background. We already knew all that but acted like it was brand new news and thanked her profusely for the tips. Ashley gamely tried testing her sense of humor just to loosen things up and was met with crickets. It was going to be a long interview.

And we had not seen a restroom since early that morning.

And we were hungry.

Still, here we were and there she was and we were live. After her introduction, she began bouncing questions back and forth between the two of us, and we dove in with the answers. Maybe this would be okay, even though we were scheduled for the full hour.

There likely would have been a better chance of going the distance had it not been for the big bag of Utz Honey Barbecue Potato Chips that was sitting within arm’s reach staring both of us right in the face. I noticed them first and tried to look away. Then a couple of minutes later, Ashley started eyeing them as well. I could read her mind. She was trying to figure out a way to pick up the bag, open it, dive in, and eat - all outside of the earshot of Miss NPR. “What crackling noise? Nope, must be on your end in the studio. We’re all good here.”

We both knew that fantasy wasn’t happening, so we sat, and we droned, and we drooled.

And then my stomach started growling.

Have you ever been seated in church when that happened? If not, you have never lived. Church-service stomach growls are always exponentially louder than the normal ones, just to make sure the snoot three rows away can hear it. I’m personally convinced God does that just for his own personal enjoyment.

As for the snoot on the other end of our phone line right about then, we still don’t know what she heard (because she never let on) but my guess is she got the full treatment. It happened just as she pitched a question to me, which left me with the lovely task of answering without giggling, acting as if nothing was amiss.

Meanwhile, it was sounding like a pack of wolves had suddenly invaded our hotel room in hot pursuit of the first carcass they had spotted in days.

And as impossible a task as I had in front of me, Ashley’s was no better. Tears of laughter were streaming down her cheeks, and while she was doing an admirable job of not snorting out loud, the chair she was sitting in began to squeak from her shaking - all the while knowing that the next (serious NPR) question was coming her way within seconds.

And did I mention we had not seen a restroom since early that morning?

We are miracle-workers, my daughter and I, and Steel Magnolias on top of that. For the remaining fifteen minutes of that interview, we delivered a performance worthy of ten Oscars, a few People’s Choice Awards, and a complimentary seven-night stay at the Ritz Carlton Dorado Beach in Puerto Rico complete with cabana boys.

From what we have heard, the interview was a big hit on the local NPR station. That can only mean one of two things. Either my growling stomach never made it across the airwaves, or this was the funniest serious interview in the history of public broadcasting. I’m betting on the latter. If God thinks nothing of disrupting his own church services, NPR is a piece of cake.

Photo via Utz Chips.