I’m On Your Podcast!

In which I arrogantly explain the non-negotiable rules and conditions if you want me to appear on your podcast.

So then, the fellow who does an occasional live stream (not the image pictured above) You Tube show invites me to join in on that night’s show.

“How would I do that?” Says I.

I can immediately tell by the confused hesitation that he doesn’t understand the question.

“Well…” he replies, “…you come on and join in.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” I say. “How do I come on? Come on where? Where do I find this live stream? Join in how?”

That’s when he realizes I am a troglodyte, who knows nothing about computers and live streaming. I’m an unfrozen creature from a past age. It’s as if I just confessed I don’t know how to stand upright and chew food. I’m handicapped beyond hope of redemption.

“Uh, never mind,” says he.

That’s what this post is about. I don’t know how to do the simple computer/online things that everyone knows how to do. Nor do I know how to cross that barrier. But I have realized that barrier has grown so wide that no one on the civilized side of the canyon can even work out a common language by which I can even be taught.

Or at least that seems to be the case. After many failed attempts, no one is able or willing to offer more instruction than, “It’s easy. I’ll send you a link.”

And when the link doesn’t work, we’re done. The only next step is, “Due to technical difficulties, Willingham won’t be appearing on tonight’s podcast. Sure we advertised it in good faith, but he’s incapable — and a grumpy bastard who tries to blame it on us, just because we didn’t show up an hour before the show to work out any technical difficulties well in advance, as he requested of us.”

The only remedy I can find is to politely decline your kind invitation to be on your show.

But here’s the thing. I like doing those podcasts. They’re usually fun and interesting.

In my convention-appearing days I loved the part where I meet readers and get to talk about what they love (and hate) about my work. It was worth all the troubles of getting to that convention, navigating the horrible parts of every convention, and recovering from the exhaustion that comes afterwards. But I knew how to book a convention. It was done on the phone. I knew how to make flight plans. That was done via phone too, or at least on the airline’s easy-to-navigate website. That was the last new trick this old dog learned.

Now, since I’m done traveling (which is its whole other story), podcasts can fill some of that void. The team of hosts fill (by proxy) some of the “talk to fans/readers” role, provided the hosts are interested readers, and most are.

And doing them from time to time helps promote the latest project, which is an essential part of the storytelling game.

The upshot: I want to continue doing guest shots on your podcast, but I won’t put up with the technical crap to succeed in doing one.

So here are the rules and they’re non-negotiable:

1) I can do Zoom meetings/calls/appearances. That’s it. I learned to use Zoom the way a monkey learns to fly a plane. I learned to punch the right buttons in the right order, with no understanding of the underlying principles.

I will not use any other program. No, it isn’t just the same, or just as easy.

If this creates additional technical problems for you, I’m sorry, but they’re your problems to solve.

2) At least twenty minutes before the show, we will test the system and deal with technical problems.

That’s it. Those are the rules. I’ll make no conditions on subject matter. There’s nothing off the table. No subject I’m afraid to discuss, even if you want to hold me to account for ruining your favorite comic and/or character. Let me have it.

But I’m not going to change my unreasonable rules, even if you do have the truly extraordinary patience everyone else lacks to walk me through the simple steps to use your system.

This brings us nicely to the next logical question: Why should you put up with this sort of arrogance from me? Why do you have to jump through my annoying, diva hoops?

You shouldn’t. You don’t. Your remedy is, you don’t have to bother with my nonsense, and I don’t blame you a bit. There are hundreds of better members of the funnybook industry to have as guests.

But, if you do still want me to do your very interesting show, this is how we do it.

Thank you.