I was born during an episode of What's My Line. It was a C section, ruined Dad's plaid hunting coat, also the couch we were all watching television on. The contestant sold linen to people who get vertigo looking at curly maple. I knew right away the other two contestants were lying about what they were or are. Affectations are a tell.
Mom has excellent deductive reasoning, and listened carefully to the questions and answers while Dad did what they do at Animal Friends, all day every day. I was eager to see what Arlene Francis looked like, as it's audio only in utero. When Bill Cullen came into focus, I was able to attach meaning to sight, and hoped I wouldn't need to wear black horn rim glasses. Horsefeathers, I've had to. I think that's enough background checks. I also hoped I have better hair.
I'm not bothered anymore with background checks. Astrology is the Mighty Casey of recondite career trouble. He lets the first strikes go, because he is dashing. The stars were lined up like the half hour comedies on television. Even the Lucy Show was about people who can't hold a job.
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