My phone rang at around quarter to twelve noon on Friday.
I’d been quite down for the past couple of weeks.
Down in that stupid mental health way where there are still lots of things going on and lots of fun things happening that should, in normal times, make you feel buoyant but just weren’t hitting.
I know from experience that the trick is to wait it out.
It’s a turbulent time in social media right now.
Actually, it’s always turbulent in the social media landscape but it’s been even more so lately.
It’s been kind of like if you showed up to work and your boss said, “We’re not paying you this month but if you don’t do your work we’re going to fire you and we might pay you again so you better just keep working.”
Such is life in a new(ish) industry, I guess.
Stressed out and feeling down.
My phone rang. ‘No Caller ID’ showed up on the screen.
I knew who was calling. They had told me they would, but I still jumped a little with nervousness.
“Hi, Henry Winkler calling.”
The voice was smooth and deep. Mellifluous but with a touch of “I just got up”.
Now, I’ve had some fun phone conversations with famous people but I still get a little freaked out. Especially when you instantly recognize their voice.
I remember giggling a bit when Alan Thicke called and began speaking.
I remember feeling a little out of body when Ryan Reynolds said “Hey buddy, it’s Ryan.”
You instantly know that voice.
But this was… The Fonz.
Barry Zuckerkorn.
Gene Cousineau.
He was calling to chat about my book (‘Welcome To The Stupidpocalypse’, coming out in September).
I had sent him a printed copy of the manuscript at his request, which caused great delight for the woman at the Staples Copy and Print Centre who printed and bound it for me.
Henry thanked me and went on at length about how he enjoyed the book and thought it, and me, were very clever and funny.
Compliments from Fonzie? The coolest.
Then he told me what to do with the next book to make it even better.
Then he expanded that to general life advice.
“Commit,” he said.
When you take someone to the edge, don’t be scared.
Take their hand and jump together.
They want to make that leap but they can’t unless you do too.
You took them there.
Commit.
And…
Don’t give someone paper when they want mahogany.
That was his actual analogy. I love it.
You can hear him saying it, can’t you?
Commit to the bit? I asked.
“Yes. Commit to the bit," he replied. “Don’t be afraid. People want to hear what you have to say.”
He then went on to lavish more praise on me and the book.
Merited or not, it was lovely… and weird.
I wore out the words “I appreciate that so much” to the point where I actually thought of pulling up Thesaurus.com to find alternate synonyms.
I went with ‘grateful’ and ‘thankful’.
We then shifted topics to the realities of growing older and wider (that’s not a typo).
We spoke about Spanx.
We complained about the burden of stairs, pets, and interrupted sleeps.
We talked briefly of lawncare.
I told him to connect with me should he ever find himself at the theatre here in Stratford.
Then, after about 15 minutes, my call with Henry Winkler was over.
It was weird.
It was hilarious.
It was unexpectedly insightful.
Henry spoke to me directly and earnestly in that way that people do who can see where you are in life because they’ve walked through that point themselves.
The biggest takeaway from his advice?
Don’t be afraid.
Start. Commit.
Go.
Keep going.
I wanted to spin this story into some general life advice that you can use as well, and maybe it is, but maybe it’s just for me.
I don’t know.
That’s up to you, I guess.
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Whoa.
(Loved this).
Heyyyyyy,
Very cool. Exceptional talent and even a better human.
Thanks for sharing