Queen of the Bondo

I’m not a morning person. I’m not really a night person either — frankly, I do my best work while I’m dreaming — but tomorrow I might try and get up early so I can hoof it down to the Flats to audition for Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.

When I revealed my secret plan to one of my coworkers, he said, “Do you want to be a millionaire?” And I said no, not really. What I really want, friends, is to go on national TV wearing a cat t-shirt and show America the true soul of Cleveland. Nevermind that young Lebron James fellow.

Now I know how these things work. You take the test to show you’re smart enough, but then they size you up and and decide whether you’d make good TV watching. And I’ll have to convince them that although I’ve been on 60 Minutes every week for the last 40 years (that’s me, right? I can’t remember), they really do want to take a chance on an aging little chunk who hasn’t been to the dentist or had a haircut in years. (Note: being on TV would be a great excuse to get a haircut and go to the dentist. Should I tell them that?)

Anyway. There will inevitably be two questions asked: 1) Why don’t you tell us a little something about yourself? and 2) What are you gonna do with all that money?

Here are my answers.

1. I’m a freelance and contract archivist. What’s an archivist? Like a librarian, only — wait for it — archivists make it last longer! In my spare time I enjoy peering at the neighbors, drinking sherry, and falling asleep on the couch watching Miss Marple. Also I need to go on your show because here’s what I’m gonna do: I’m gonna put on a Miami Heat jersey and  punk Cleveland on  national TV because  Cleveland deserves it and because I’m mad at Lebron James for doing what was totally MY RIGHT to do in the first place.

2. I’ll take the money in pennies, please, and I’ll drop them all over the city for my husband to find because his only life’s pleasure is finding spare change on the ground. No really, I’m going to buy an iPod and then pay someone to teach me how to use it. No really, I’m just going to reinvest it all in Dan Gilbert’s precious temporary casino because if I don’t he will publicly diss me in 14-point Comic Sans. And to be honest, that’s the worst kind of diss ever.