MoC Meets Maria (Sort Of): Nine Minutes and Eight Seconds of Fame

Last week was one of the wildest weeks of my professional life. On Monday I was quoted on the front page of the New York Times (above the fold, no less) in an article about hedge funds and confidential information (fascinating stuff...I know).

When I got to work that morning, there was a message from a producer for CNBC. Would I be willing to appear on a television show that afternoon called At the Bell?

I called my publicity guy and he set it up. An interview that afternoon at 4:30 p.m. with Maria Bartiromo. Big stuff. All hell broke loose in my office.

First problem: I needed a haircut. It was a day after yom tov and I was a mess. I ran downstairs to one of these haircut factories and, luckily, Ricardo was free. Fifteen minutes later I was back in my office, nice and neat. Sometimes it pays to have very little hair left.

Second problem: I was dressed like a shlump. Well, perhaps not like a shlump, but certainly not ready-for-Maria. I was wearing my usual work clothes. Blue button down Oxford shirt (long-sleaves, of course), black Easy Fit pants from the Gap.

I also keep a white shirt and a blue sports jacket in the office so those were theoretically available.

The first thing we did was ask one of our administrative assistants to go to Brooks Brothers and buy me a tie. In a scene reminiscent of a certain cable television show that I've heard of but never seen, he came back with three ties and the entire office staff decided which one I should wear. (I cannot be trusted with such weighty decisions).

The more we thought about it the more we were sure that a sports jacket would not do. I needed a suit. We sent a car service to my home to pick up one of my black pinstripe suits (that's all I own; black pinstripe suits).

I was now hooked up.

I got to the green room which was decidedly not green, hung out for a while and was eventually led to the "studio". The studio was a tiny room with a camera and a monitor. There were no actual live people operating anything and Maria herself was on the other side of the Hudson River.

The interview itself was nervewracking but I apparently held my own against an onslaught from Maria. At least that's what my mother says.