127: With special guest Walter Cronkite
Jul 20, 2009•58 min•Ep 127•Transcript available on Metacast Episode description
The TVTM loves you, baby. Yes, as a matter of fact, it does. We show that love by giving you a better product, a glossier, more brilliantly sheen-filled and lucid piece of aural entertainment. We increase our game because someone told us that they took our last podcast for a long car drive and made the drive even longer. Hurt, tearful, weepy-hearted but determined, we put our best effort into this one. Well, "best effort." Question Boy (Chronicle political writer Joe Garofoli) channeled Walter Cronkite (and Putin and wonderfully, Existential French Woman) while Adjustin (Justin Beck, producer to the stars) even looked up not one but two area codes (though he also shook off the idea that I should podcast from Los Angeles next week and the week after while I'm down covering the Death March With Cocktails). This 'cast starts with a song (PPage strikes again) and ends with a slam at a boring state (one of 50 you'll just have to guess), then an apology and then some laughs. We find two "lost" e-mails. There's a lot of Walton, who doesn't apologize, there are calls from everywhere, an MP3 about David Brinkley and we begin the arrangements to have a drink with Andrea from Connecticut, (calling from the car again) continuing our promise to buy drinks for any listener outside the Bay Area who stops in San Francisco. We're going to answer all of Andrea's TV questions with care and precision so that she's completely stunned but happy. She'll return to the East Coast and spread the truth I really do know things. Jealous yet? Book your flight! All told, a small slice of awesomeness. "If you're going to listen to just one long and uninformative and pointless podcast this summer, listen to this one." It will indeed be our last podcast for a bit. I'm heading to Los Angeles on Sunday, not back until Aug. 10, where we've tentatively scheduled another one. By then, you'll miss us so much you'll be sending us letters of apology for ever slagging us, either in public or in your private thoughts. We forgive you in advance.
