Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Say WHAT????

I was sitting at my desk today, minding my own business and talking to Suzanne when the door to my office opened and my boss, looking rather exasperated, stuck his head in.

"Do you want Mr. McFeely?" he asked. It sounded to me like he asked this question in the same way you would ask, "Do you want Brad Pitt?"

My mind went over the possibilities quickly....

Do you want McDreamy?


Do you want McSteamy?


My mind couldn't make sense of it.

Suzanne and I came to the same realization at the exact same moment and asked the boss-man incredulously, "Excuse me?!?!?!?"

Mr. McFeely. Is coming to town next week to do an event with us.


As in Mr. Rogers' Mr. McFeely.


"Sure," I said. "I want him."
Some clarification for those of you who are now trying to un-boggle your minds....
I work for our local PBS station. Part of my job is writing and producing promotional material for the station - including writing scripts and arranging for them to be shot, edited and aired. My boss-man is the production manager, who had just heard that David Newell (Mr. McFeely) would do some local spots for us and was scrambling to find space in the studio and come up with a camera man (which I could do if I needed to - I spent 15 of my last 20 years of life doing TV production in one form or another). I already knew this, actually, and was just waiting for some dates from our RTL coordinator.


HoosierGirl5 said...

Okay, I loved Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. And I liked Mr. McFeely.

But I'm having a hard time imagining anyone who would WANT him....(giggle)


Mel said...

LMAO! You're right, it is all in the inflection!
Fun factoid: "McFeely" was Fred Rogers' middle name. That's how the lovable neighborhood postman got his name.
/nerdy lecture

Anonymous said...

Finally! Some trivia about Mr. Rogers that does not involve him being a sniper in Vietnam (which is not true, by the way).


Jenny said...

God, who *doesn't* want Mr. McFeely?

Jeff said...

For some reason, a girl back in high school called me "Mr. McFeely". No one knew why.

Patience said...

I guess it all depends on what you want Mr. McFeely for!

Momish said...

Ok, so after you explained it makes sense. But, I probably would have opted for McDreamy, but that is me.

P.S. Your job sounds really interesting and fun.

Kevin Charnas said...

HHAA!! Oh Sayre, go can admit it. You know that you WANT Mr. McFeely! They don't call him Mr. McFEELY for nothing. That man has HANDS!!! OOOHHH GIRL! dang.

oh and p.s. or p.b.s. - Last week? I knew what PBS really stands for, it's truly one of the only things worth watching. and I wanted to tell you that I'm proud of you for working there. Most of the rest is just garbage. I can't believe that with hundreds of channels, still nothing is on.

Me said...

I used to work at a PBS station too and Mr. McFeely came to our town too :)
Have fun!

Anonymous said...

Sorry you had momentary "McDude" confusion, but, yeah, McDreamy and McSteamy are not on your network!

But I'd love to meet Mr. McFeely, by the way.

Stephanie said...

Yeah, that last one was from me. I got a little tripped up with my fingers not McFeel-ing.

Stepping Over the Junk said...

that is very cool. A good friend of mine worked for our local PBS station years ago and I loved hearing about what went on there. Then she had kids and didnt go back to work but still...very cool, I hope you enjoy it?

swampwitch said...

My hot flashes (power surges) started early this morning with the first couple of pics...but quickly subsided as I scrolled down the page.
I think I dated Jeff in high school.
Now, referring to your experience in Oklahoma and knowing the sounds of those aircraft overhead...I'm impressed. Did you ever live close to Sayre, OK?

Alice in Wonderbread said...

I met Mr McFeely and Mr. Rogers back when I was a kid. They were great. But I thought Mr. Rogers was an idiot, because when I asked him how old he was, he had to think about it, and the first thing he said when I asked was, "You're really interested in age, aren't you?" and I got really impatient.

I did a raspberry on Mr. McFeely's microphone when he invited me to sing jingle bells on stage with him. I sat down wondering what the hell possessed me to do it. I just wanted to hear what a raspberry sounded like in an auditorium in a microphone more than I wanted to be nice to Mr. McFeely.

I was not a good child that day.
My mom was non-plussed.