The Way I Heard It with Mike Rowe - 349: Teresa Strasser—How to Get Cal Ripken Jr.

Episode Date: October 3, 2023

349: How to Get Cal Ripken Jr. with Teresa Strasser The Emmy-winning writer, TV host, and author swaps stories of near-miss television gigs with Mike, shares tales of growing up blue-collar with her auto mechanic dad, and reveals how she got the Iron Man of baseball to read and blurb her book, Making It Home: Life Lessons From a Season of Little League.  

What we have here, my friends, is another episode of the way I heard it. 349. It is How to Get Cal Ripkin Jr. with Teresa Strausser. You don't find that deceptive in any way, do you, Chuck? Is Cal Ripkin going to be on this episode, Mike? Well, I guess we'll just have to find out now, won't we? Cal Ripkin Jr. is sort of, is he a hero to me and Chuck? I mean, he's a hero to many people.

He's certainly a larger than life figure who grew up in our hometown, who went on to, well, to change professional sports. I mean, that's not too grand, is it? It's pretty good. I mean, he's done something that no one else will probably ever do. What he accomplished was impossible, which is basically just not taking a day off. I mean, he gets the perfect attendance award, if ever there was one for baseball. And he, you know, kicked Lou Gehrig in the nuts while he did it. So that was kind of fun.

Lou Gehrig comes up in this conversation. So does a lesser-known athlete called Wally Pip. It will all be explained when you meet this incredibly charming woman who has written a delightful book called Making It Home. The woman is Teresa Strasser. She's one of those people who has done a lot of things in the entertainment world. And, you know, if you're watching the video, you'll recognize her face for sure. If you listen to her, you might recognize her voice.

She's done a lot of time on the radio, worked with Adam Carolla for many years and so forth and so on. But the reason she's on this podcast is that she figured out how to get Cal Ripkin Jr. To write a blurb for her excellent book. And I thought that was great. And then we dug into the book and, man, it's beautiful. My mom is going to love this book. You're going to love this book. It's a real rumination on a full.

father and a daughter and the way baseball help them grieve and overcome some real tragic events. But it's not a heavy conversation. She's funny, man. I could have talked to her for another hour, too. Yeah, she's great. And her book is great as well. And, you know, it was number one on Amazon for both categories of baseball and grief at the same time. Probably never before done.

But it really is. It's a lot of fun this book, and I highly recommend it. And I can't wait to send it to my sister, honestly. You know, we didn't talk about that in our conversation, but your sister lived a very similar life to Teresa, at least on the grief side. Yes, but, well, if there are two things that my sister is intimately acquainted with, it's both grief and baseball. She is a diehard Boston Red Sox fan, much to my chagrin.

Also, just she experienced grief in the way Teresa did in that her daughter, died and then six months later, our mother died. And for Teresa, it was her brother and then her mother. So it's very similar. There's a lot to unpack, but mostly there's just a lot to chuckle at and nod your head as you follow the twists and turns of a really fun conversation. Episode 349. How to get Cal Ripkin Jr.

With Teresa. Right after this. Long before she was Peggy Roe, my mom was Peggy Noble, daughter of Carl and Thelma Noble. It was her father, Carl, who inspired me to pitch a show called Dirty Jobs to the Discovery Channel and later start a foundation that honored the kind of work Carl Noble did for a living, trade work, skilled labor. That foundation is called MicroWorks, and today I'm proud to tell you that we've helped thousands of people get the training they need to begin a career in the skilled trades.

In fact, we'd love to help you. You can apply for a work ethic scholarship right now at microwerworks.org. We've set aside $10 million for this year's applicants. Thanks to a number of very effective fundraisers, including the one with my grandfather's name on the label. I refer, of course, to Noble Tennessee Whiskey, K-N-O-B-E-L, which is now available in a variety of delicious mash bills, all of which you can peruse at Noble Spirits,

In fact, if you spend $100 bucks and use code Carl, C-A-R-L, you'll get one tube of orange bitter-infused sugar cubes for free. That's code Carl with a C to get nine sugar cubes, ingeniously engineered to make nine perfect old-fashions every time. It's my favorite way to support Microworks and my favorite whiskey to sip responsibly after a long day of interviewing people on this podcast. Pick up a bottle at noblespirits.com, K-N-O-B-E-L-Spirits.com. Soon may the noble man come to bring a bottle for everyone. One day when the waitin is done, we'll take a drink and go. I love snappy answers to stupid questions.

Wasn't that actually the name of some kind of, like a column in maybe Mad Magazine or something like that? Yes. Snappy answers to stupid questions. It was my very favorite part of Mad Magazine. magazine and the best part. In my book, I write about, I took these long greyhound trips as a kid through California. My parents were divorced. My dad was in L.A.

My mom was in San Francisco. And from age eight, I took the greyhound, like, through the prison belt of Central California by myself. Not legal now. Parenting was a little different back then. And so to keep myself company, I would just read Mad Magazine. and I also had a walkman. Well, my life changed because I memorized the first aria that I ever auditioned with through a walkman walking around downtown Baltimore, like a crazy person,

muttering in Italian as I was trying to memorize the sound Samuel Ramey was making as he sang the coat aria from La Poemm. But until right now, Teresa, I didn't know that I had my equal because to picture you, curled up, right, on the back of a greyhound bus with a knapsack and a mad magazine laughing hysterically all by yourself. I kind of feel like maybe... It's like you were there. It's like you were there because I did have a knapsack, but I had the strap around my ankle because I didn't trust anybody on the greyhound. You do a good call. That's reasonable. Mike, if I may, do you remember any of the aria that you were learning with your Walkman?

Yeah, I didn't know what any of it meant, Teresa sounds like a memorization of receive, but I didn't know what any of it meant, Teresa. This was the beauty of the audition. I memorized sounds and imitated them as best I could. And I got about halfway through in the chorus master, a guy named Bill Yonutsi said,

Mr. Rowe, Mr. Rowe, you have no idea what you're saying at all, do you? And of course, I didn't. Well, Mr. Yonutsi was very much also describing a bar mitzvah. Right. You just saying stuff. And then at the end, money changed his hands. Exactly. I assume you got this gig.

Yeah, I got it. I was 22, and the Baltimore Opera needed young men with low voices. And I had a buddy who was in the rep company, and I knew there was a loophole that could get me into the Screen Actors Guild if I could fake my way into the American Guild of Musical Artists. So, yeah, it was a very crooked road. But, yeah, I got in, and my plan was to get out immediately, but I stayed for eight years.

The music was better than I thought, and the girls, Teresa. The girls. They were everywhere. You're talking about the opera fans? No. No, I'm talking about the repertory company that consisted of 80 people. You got your sopranos and your altos and your tenors and your baritones and your basses and so forth. But there were 45 women and 35 guys and 30 of the guys had zero interest in 100% of the women.

And of the five straight dudes in that chorus, three were married. and the only other one had a mole on his eyelid like the size of your thumb with a lot of thick black hair growing out of it. So it was me, dressed like a Viking and a pirate for eight years, getting to know the coeds at the Peabody Conservatory. It was a magical time. I don't see why. I mean, I just, you walked me through the math. Because Chuck has known you a long time, and I'm very curious. Like, you obviously have an incredible speaking voice and singing voice,

but at what point did this voice present itself? Like, Chuck, when Mike Rowe was, I don't know, you knew him in high school or maybe before, but when did he sound like that? In high school. Yeah, he had an Adam's apple the size of a football, and he could sing all the low parts in chorus. He was like, you know, okay, sing the scale.

Oh, you're a bass. Yeah, you're definitely a bass. And that was it. Yeah. Yeah, he sounded like this first. ever. Yeah. Yeah, it was a weird time.

But what are you doing? You've totally hijacked this interview. You've totally, you're just completely masquerading as a host, which I guess you've done, right? I mean, this is, like, you wear many hats. You're not merely a writer. What's your business card say, assuming you would have one? It says, in a very small font, obscure in many media.

Oh, I am. I like it. OIM. As I did, I started out as a writer. I was a newspaper writer, if you remember those things that you'd hold in your hand, like very long tweets. And then I moved to L.A. I was a television writer. I wrote for a lot of game shows, including Win Ben Stein's Money, which was on Comedy Central. Which, by the way, one of the few that really struck me as like totally non-derivative, I'm probably wrong. But like in the canon of games, shows, that actually felt like really fresh to me. It was a completely original idea that a contestant would compete for cash and prizes

against the boring Ferris Bueller economy professor guy. By the way, Ben Stein had also worked in the Nixon administration and was like legitimately a very smart person. But I don't know if this is apocryphal, but I've read that it was originally when David Lee Roth's money? No way. Well, there's probably more money to win. It was much more money to win.

But yeah, Ben Stein was exactly off-camera the way he is on camera. I mean, there was a writing staff there, and, you know, I was the only female for much of the time, and he would walk down the hall, and he would just look over, and he did not know my name, but he would say, hi, writer. And then he would keep going, and then he took a lot of naps. for his brain because they would gang shoot. They would shoot a bunch of episodes in a day. So he needed to get his nap in.

When I was doing that show, I dreamed of being on camera. And I just didn't see how I could get out of the writer's room. You know, I wasn't sure how I could do it. On that show, you may remember that Jimmy Kimmel was the host of the show. Ben Stein played the game, but Jimmy Kimmel was the host. And he was so brilliant and so funny. And then he left to do... Might have been The Man Show.

Was it the Man Show? Yeah, the Man Show. Right. Which is crazy because I ended up working with Adam Carolla later, you know, for years. But when he left, we actually had a female host the show named Nancy Pimentel. And I was just sitting in the writer's room watching her. And I thought, well, if she can do it, she had been a writer on South Park. So that really gave me the thought, like, maybe I could one day get out of the writer's room.

And then I eventually got a job hosting on the Game Show Network, very brief. briefly. What was the show? The show, well, first I wrote on the Game Show Network for a show called When Did That Happen, which we called When Did That Get Canceled? Because it got canceled six weeks after it premiered. Uh-huh. And I cried.

I cried so hard because I couldn't believe that anybody was paying me to write. You know, I'm a mechanic's daughter. There were no show business people in my family. I thought if I can make one single dollar writing, this will be the best of the best thing. best life ever. Wait, wait, wait, wait. You're Jewish, right? Yes.

Your dad was a mechanic? Yes. You know what? Is he the only Jewish mechanic on the planet? Might be. Okay. I mean, hey, I think that's terrific. You're just saying words grouped up in an order I've never heard before.

That always gets my attention. Okay, so Mike, my dad owned Delta Battery in Santa Rosa on Piner Road, rebuilding alternators generators and starters and sometimes replacing batteries. He wore a monkey suit, as he called it, with his name stitched over his heart. He had the mechanic grease, you know, under his nails. Like I remember he had the tub of soap on the sink with the, you know, abrasive, gritty soap. Chuck knows what I'm talking about. Yeah, go Joe.

Yeah. Yeah, go Joe. Yep. And I was thinking because I used to love hanging out at my dad's shop. It was always a chaos. Like he always had three people on the line and four people waiting for cars. and then he'd be yelling for Ahmad to bring the Ford around. It was chaos.

Ahmad? Amad? Ahmaid was there. Sometimes he had one guy. Sometimes he had two guys. Sometimes he had five guys. He never had more than five guys. But it was kind of an accordion.

Like when the economy was really strong, people would not fix their cars or rebuild the parts. Right. Right. Now, look, none of this matters. They would just buy a new one. Right. They would just buy a new one. Yeah, right.

Right. But then things got tight, and it was all about fixing the thing you have. but I'm stuck on Ahmad now. So your dad's name, was it Nelson? My dad's Nelson. Okay. So the Jewish mechanic is yelling for the Arab. It's all starting to feel like the U.N. to me, which I love.

Oh, we also had Jose. And we had Amad. And then my dad would be like, Delta Battery, please hold. Amad! Get aboard. Jose, Jose, Jose! Every time I called my dad for my entire childhood, Delta Battery, please. Please hold.

Come on. Hold on. Delta pad. T. T is that you? Oh, my, wait. I want to talk to you. I want to talk to you.

Please hold. Please hold. Sir, sir, sir. Your Volvo's in the back. Your Volvo's in the back. That'll be 240. It was always chaos. You're full.

I thought you said your vulva's in the back. That's what I thought you said. Your vulva's been in the front and I hope that's where it's supposed to be. Well, you know what? Don't change a thing. But having said that, if your vulva were in the back, that would be okay with us, we don't care. Drive safely. That's the important thing.

Thank you. Mike, my point is there are Jewish dirty jobbers. Mm-hmm. Awesome. Good. And over there, I don't know if you guys have heard this terminology, but now there's this big food truck movement where you can get artisanal grilled cheese

or farm-to-table arugula. What we had at Delta Battery was a thing called the Roach Coach. Right. Oh, yeah. Do you remember those? Vividly. Sure. Like there was ice and then like cartons of milk on the ice.

Yeah. Yeah. And maybe like an egg salad sandwich with a little salmonella. Just a touch. Yeah. You don't need much. Little goes a long way. So your memories of your dad, I mean, obviously it's a big chunk of what motivates the book.

But I just, I love the phone calls and the certainty and the routine and the predictability, you know. I think of my own folks and those little tiny moments that you're probably not even aware of, right, when they're happening. But when you look back, you realize, wow, every time he picks up the phone, first of all, he's so busy, he can't even call you Teresa. He calls you tea. Secondly, Ahmad is just always, God knows where that guy is. He and Carlos are so busy. So just like your perception of it must have been a daughter dipping into the deep. end of the chaos pool where her dad was the lifeguard or something like that.

My dad was at the chaos pool with his whistle, just trying to save cars in lives and not get a sunburn. But I loved it. I loved it there. I worshipped my dad. You know, it was later on that I had some shame around it because I went to a very fancy private school in San Francisco. I was one of five scholarship kids.

And at that point, I thought, oh, other people's dads drive a BMW. My dad is fixing the BMW, but he drove a pickup truck, and he did always have the grease under his nails. And a lot of times he would show up for things in his monkey suit. But when I was little, I worshipped my dad because everybody loved my dad. You know, he was an honest mechanic, and he had the same customers for years and years. And when your car broke, my dad was the guy that fixed it. He was my idol.

That's irreplaceable. And again, one of those things where maybe you know it when it's happening. But isn't it interesting how those memories get larger in your mind's eye, right, as you get older? Talk about how that informed the book. And full disclosure, I just listened to your prologue. And I hope this doesn't sound like anything other than the compliment. and I mean it to be, but you can really write. I mean, it's beautiful.

I feel like such a schmuck because I do a lot of this, too, right? Sometimes I'm a guest, sometimes I'm a host, and it's so weird to talk to people about a book I wrote that I know they didn't read, and I can't bear it when they pretend like they did. I haven't read your book, I swear to God, I'm gonna. But boy, if the prolog is any indication, it's kind of beautiful. Thank you.

That really means a lot to me. I'm super touched that even you would have listened to that because that's a good nine minute chunk there. Well, I didn't listen to it all at once, Teresa. So over the course of a week. Yeah, I did two minutes. I guess it was last Thursday, maybe. I was like, okay. No, no, no, I actually listened to it twice because you mentioned Indian River Road, right, in Phoenix.

Indian School Road. Indian School, right. I fainted on that road. I was... What? I didn't really feel. faint, but I kind of fell down and lost my peripheral vision for a minute. It was 114 degrees.

And I was staying with my buddy Scott Flansberg, the human calculator, who lives up in, no, not far from the Bill Moore, like up off Lincoln, right? Yeah. Near Camelback. And I went for a jog like an idiot. And it was just so hot. It was so hot that I fell down on Indian River Road, which is where your prologue begins, interestingly, or maybe not.

Yes, at the Ingleside Middle School, which became a holy ground for my dad and I. The book covers just one single season of Little League that my son played right there off Indian School Road. Just 16 games. It was a season after my brother died of cancer at age 47, and my dad and I accidentally turned Little League into our grief group right there.

There's a plaque where you fainted, but a few yards from that are the fields of Ingleside Middle School, where my dad and I got way, way too into baseball. But I think sports were invented so that emotionally unavailable family members could talk to each other. And exchange real information.

I mean, I've learned that your grandmother was a hardcore baseball fan. Hardcore. My grandma... Hardcore. Yeah, when she was... I guess she must have been 90 or so. She was at my parents' condo.

They were out. She stumbled and fell, broke a hip. And she was halfway between the den where the Orioles were playing and the phone in the kitchen where help was waiting or potentially waiting. And she had to make a decision. So she basically crawled back into the den to watch the end of the game before crawling to the phone. Took all the paramedics.

My mom wrote that story and somehow it got to the Angelo's family. And the son printed it. And then my grandma wound up throwing out the first pitch a year later. So, yeah, my mom always talks about it in terms of what baseball did was reveal the person you really are. And my grandmom was Jekyll and Hyde in some ways. very proper, very careful, very, you know, particular. And then when the Orioles were playing,

she'd just curse like a sailor and throw her shoes at the TV and just, you know, flip the bird to the ump. She was like, no one knew who she was, except that's who she always was, obviously. Well, I relate deeply to this because my dad and I were obsessed with a team and these were not major leaguers playing for millions of dollars. These were nine-year-olds playing for,

snack tickets. But if I had fainted or gone down, I would have also chosen to crawl back towards Indian School Road to watch these kids. My dad and I were dissecting every play, every game. We never got used to losing. It's not that kind of story where, oh, we learned to accept. We didn't accept it. We bitterly hated losing. It ruined our day. It ruined the next day. We cared. And I think there's like, we became one with our team, and that's probably what your grandma was experiencing, where you dissolve into a oneness. It's tribal. And so when you're talking to somebody about sports, it's ostensibly about a bunch of people you don't know playing a game, but it's also really about faith, failure, redemption,

belief, victory, loss, everything. And one more F word that I think really sums up my Nana, which was family. She was devoted to her family, but as her family became a diaspora, if you will, the Orioles became a bit... See what I did there, Chuck? It's not only a big word,

but it has a certain, you know, Judaism overtoned to it, I believe. Of course it does. There was a Jewish diaspora. Yeah. Yeah, that. So it's like when your family becomes shaken in some way

or fractured in some way. That is the real, I mean, the real beauty of sports is the ability to bring people together, especially within a family. And that's what the Orioles did for us. And that sidebar is why it's such a kick in the teeth when the Colts leave Baltimore or the Browns leave Cleveland and so forth and so on. For a lot of people, it's not just fandom.

It takes a chunk of their family with them. It's a hell of a thing. Do do, do. Dumb. Well, people are still raving, raving, I tell you, about my mother's performance in the latest Pure Talk commercial. And if you haven't seen it, I encourage you to give it a look on my Facebook page and read the comments. They're hysterical. In this commercial, you'll not only see Peggy Rowe gently criticizing her oldest son for his longstanding and well-established commitment issues.

You'll learn about the latest offer from Pure Talk, which includes unlimited talk, text, and data for just 35. $34.99 a month with no contracts and no commitments of any kind. You can see why I love these guys. If, on the other hand, you have better things to do with your time, then watch my mom and me be impossibly charming together, then allow me to remind you here, without all the cleverness and charm, that unlimited talk, text, and data on a blazing fast network for just $3499 a month really is an unmitigated bargain from an American wireless company that keeps all their customer service, in this country, supports our veterans in a meaningful way, as well as the Microwworks Foundation, and allows me to exploit my own mother in a national advertising campaign.

Do what my mom did. Get yourself unlimited high-speed data for just 3499 a month. At puretalk.com slash row. You can switch in as little as 10 minutes at puretalk.com. slash row. Pure talk. I love everything you just said. I have so many thoughts. One, so I'm from San Francisco. I'm a warriors fan.

If I'm walking through an airport and somebody else is wearing a warrior shirt, that's my kin. I already like you and you already like me. And I think there's a betrayal when a team leaves because you identify with them so deeply. And Cal Ripkin, Jr., was kind enough to read my book and he wrote the most beautiful review. But my favorite thing that he said was that

this is a book about a team that becomes a family and a family that becomes a team. And I think that's true of so many sports fans because your grandma had lost her family in a way. There'd been a diaspora, which is that's supposed to happen with the family, right? It's supposed to disintegrate in a certain way. But the team became her family. How did you get Cal Ripkin to write what he wrote about this book? I still can't believe it. I still can't believe it. I sat at my kitchen table

and like any experienced journalist, I googled how to reach Cal Ripkin Jr. Your regular Woodward and Bernstein there. Exactly. Follow the money. Drink more milk. Yeah. Yeah.

I was the Woodward and Bernstein of trying to try. trying to find legendary baseball players on Google. I sat on my kitchen table, and then I found about 10 email addresses associated with Cal Ripkin Jr. And then researching him, I found that he'd written almost 30 books. So I thought, you know, maybe he'll want to help a writer. I wrote to each one of these 10 email addresses, the most heartfelt letter that I possibly

could. I worked on it for days. And his publicist actually wrote back to me and said, I'm so sorry to you. to hear about the loss of your brother. This is a beautiful story about the healing powers of baseball. I think Cal might like it. I think Cal might enjoy your book. So, you know, I was hyperventilating.

I'm like, oh, my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I can't believe it. I can't believe it. His PR person wrote, if nothing good ever happens. Like, this is enough. As my people say, Dianu, that's good enough. I'm the luckiest girl in the world. We exchange a few more letters.

And he said, I sent him an advanced copy. And he said, I'll get it to Cal. and then a month passed by, I didn't hear anything, and one day I opened my email, there was the most beautiful review. It was simply signed CRJ. And then it said, how's that? You know what? I just, I'm looking for it right now, and I think this is what you're talking about. And look, it's not a big deal.

Like blurbs are exactly that, but they do mean a lot. And I've, let me see if I can find it. Well, the fact that he actually wrote it, this is not like, you know, I mean, as far as we, know he actually wrote this, correct? Yeah, like I said, he's written almost 30 books. Sure. That's amazing. Baseball has always been a way for people to come together. In making it home, Teresa and her father used baseball to come together

and work through some of the most difficult circumstances we can imagine. This is a story about a team that becomes a family and a family that becomes a team. It's a wonderful book that powerfully captures how we work through life's challenges with baseball as a backdrop. You know what? I'm so glad. First of all, credit where it's due, you got to a gatekeeper that is unusual in the world of PR. So do you remember who that person was?

I'll never forget it, John Maroon. Excellent for remembering and for sharing, because the world is full of people who just say no, reflexively. And I understand why they do it. They're overwhelmed, and Cal is must be beset on everything. every side. But that's great that he's got good people around him, and it's great that he took the time to respond. I'll never forget. Chuck, I was at his first game. I remember I saw you there. Oh, right. You were there with me at Memorial Stadium. Yes. Yes. My brother Rick had four tickets,

and two of the guys couldn't go. And he said, hey, you and Mike want to come? And we did. We sat in the very last row up in the upper deck. And, you know, Rick pointed to third base and said, see that guy? Calrican Jr. That's his name. I think he's going to be pretty good. Keep an eye on him. Well, flash forward, I was at his last game with a guy named Barry Brown, old buddy of mine. And yeah, it was, that's where it went beyond family, Teresa, right? That's when I realized, you know, I mean, the guy broke the unbreakable record. And yeah, it's another one of those moments where you know you're witnessing something historic, but it's just going to get bigger and bigger and bigger with every passing day.

Yeah, it's incredible that you were at his first game. I had forgotten that he started out on third base and then eventually became obviously a legendary shortstop. And I think the last few years of his career, he went back to playing third base. I thought it was like a couple of games or I just remember the manager moving him over. I think the day that he broke the record, wasn't it? I don't remember. But you guys were asking about my dad.

and since we're talking baseball, do you guys remember a player named Wally Pipp? No. Who did he play for? He played for the Yankees a long time ago in the 20s. And my dad used to always talk about Wally Pip because he's a guy that missed a day of work. So the famous story about him and how it came up was I used to be on the radio with Adam Carolla. I was a newsgirl sidekick for many years. but when I started, I was just filling in for two days because he had a co-host, a female co-host,

but she had booked a pilot. And to her credit, like, it was a really big deal pilot. It was directed by Ron Howard. And so she had to miss, and they were having girls come in for two-day tryouts. So I came in for two days to sit in with Adam Carolla. Then they asked me back for two more days, then two more days, then two more days. and then I was on the show for years until the format flipped, and that girl never came back.

My dad used to always say, she's Wally Pipp. She's Wally Pipp. And so, okay, so for those who don't know, Wally Pipp was the starting first baseman for the Yankees in the 20s, and he was one of the top power hitters of the day. He was in a little bit of a slump, and he had a headache. So he decided, you know what, I'm taking myself out of the lineup. I'm in a slump, my head hurts.

And so his backup came in, and that guy's name is Lou Gehrig. Right. Right. Oh, that's a good story. Which might explain why Lou Gehrig played so many games in a row because he didn't want to wind up being the next Wally Pipp. No kidding. That's right.

So you don't want to be Wally Pipp. If you have a headache, you should power through. You don't want to be McLean Stevenson. You don't want to be Shelley Long. You don't want to be David Caruso. Oh, yeah, y'ay. Do you remember Cookie Rojas? And name sounds familiar. It's a great name.

Cookie was probably, I can't tell you who he played for because I think he played for everybody. And he also played every position. He was the guy, first base, third base, left, center. He even pitched, right? He was like the ultimate utility player. I think of him a lot because I think in many ways, like we're living in this age where the generalist has been supplanted by the special. where Nelson and Jose and who is it? Ahmad. Ahmad, right, right? You know, those guys could probably all do a lot of different things and needed to by necessity.

And it seems it's like in a really general way, that's changed. And in sports too, you know, specialty teams and, oh, I'm a kicker. That's it. That's all I'll ever do. You know, Cookie Rojas is like, no, bull crap, man. You got to do it all. And you don't want to be a Wally Pip, too. Anyway, sorry, sidebar, but you know what?

I hesitate to ask you because you're probably sick of telling the story, but you wrote a book about it. And it's the first time I've really seen grief juxtaposed so unapologetically with baseball. So I know your brother died and your mom, but how? And how did that lead to this, would you call it a two-man grief support group vis-a-vis Little League? Yes, that's exactly what I call it. So my brother died. He was 47. He had a really rare form of spinal cancer.

And it was just a long, bad, grueling death. And then my mom died four months later. I honestly think of a broken heart. She had been fine. But I think that losing her child was just too much for her. So it was down to me and my dad and cut to this season of Little League. and just something about the highs and lows and this roller coaster of emotion, it just felt like it wired our nervous systems together. We were one, and we had something to focus on.

We had this distraction. The other thing about baseball is that you know what to expect. I remember my dad who, look, you know, as you know, mechanic, not one to want to rhapsodize about his feelings, about his dead son. but I remember him saying at the beginning of the season I write about in this book, one of the few things he ever said about my brother's death, he said, it's out of order. It's out of order. A father shouldn't outlive his son.

It's out of order. And I think something about baseball that we all find comforting and, you know, look no further than President Bush throwing out the first pitch, game three of the World Series after 9-11, something that's comforting is that the rules have barely changed. So when my dad and I went out to watch a game, fair was fair, foul was foul, there was only one way to run around the bases, the chalk lines are there, here's the field of play, here are the dimensions. You're going to have highs and lows, but basically you know what to expect. So the certainty that comes with rules that everyone understands, that makes a lot of sense to me. Chuck's heard me whine a lot over the years about. about when I get sideways, it's usually because somebody put four in front of three, right? I'm a slave to chronology.

I like when things happen in order. I'm not rigid, I don't think. It's hard for me to think through things if somebody cuts the line, right? It's just an affront. So is that what that sudden upheaval in your family felt like? Like somehow the cosmic rules were broken? Or was it that there were no rules at all? It was not supposed to happen.

It was a chaos. Even after my brother got sick and my brother had played baseball, he was a lefty, played first base, loved a fastball. So I had grown up watching him play. So I think that was another thing about baseball was it's just generational, you know, like the rules are the same. And it connects my son, who was then nine, with his uncle somewhere in the Great Beyond. There's always that bridge in baseball. And like you said, four doesn't come before three, all right? You know what to expect.

These are the rules. Fair is fair. I don't think I was conscious of this at the time when I was writing the book, but I've thought a lot about it since. Why baseball and grief go together like peanuts and cracker jacks? And I think there's something mystical about baseball, and if you'll humor me, there's no clock. So in football and basketball, the game is ruled by a clock.

but in baseball, there are outs, right? So your grandma could be watching her Orioles from the floor, and they could be down 15 runs. There could be two outs left, and that batter could have two strikes on him. And mathematically, her Orioles could have still won that game. So the sport of baseball is the most optimistic, the most hope-filled, the most eternal sport

because it actually mathematically could go on forever, and literally no comeback is impossible. So is there any other sport that has that element of the Eternal baked into it? I don't think so. Well, golf in the opposite way, right? Golf could go on forever because you could never get that stupid ball in the stupid hole. Okay, so you can't time out at golf. It could go on forever?

I'm guessing, but I mean, you know, it doesn't end. you know, until you put the ball in the hole. And if you, you know, you just keep counting the strokes. And I don't know. Is there a mercy ruling golf? I have no idea. I don't think so. No, I don't think there is.

I mean, I think you, I mean, if you're playing to 18, you play until you get to 18. But that's the only other one I can think of. But I think what Teresa is saying is that unlike hockey, unlike football, right, you've got X amount of time. And what you do in that time is what you do. And when the time is up, you're up. And so in some ways, sports like that are more indicative of the clock we all have. The difference is, when you play football, you know it's going to be an hour. You know, you don't know how long the hour is going to take for all sorts of reasons.

You know, that's probably more analogous to living. You know, you don't really know precisely when it's going to end. Eh, it's interesting. I think when you're grieving, you need hope. and baseball's filled with hope because you could always come back. You probably won't, but mathematically you could. So it just has that feeling of potential redemption baked into it in hopefulness. And then also there's like, you know, normalcy.

For example, in Little League, you have two games a week. You have someplace to go. It's a more pedestrian answer to the question, but I think it was nice for my dad and I, look, my dad would ride his bike. He doesn't, ironically, for a retired mechanic, he doesn't drive a car. He only has a bike. So he would ride his bike to the field, and he would be there half an hour early, every single game. You had someplace to be on a Tuesday.

You had some place to be on a Saturday. And you sat there. You rode out the highs and lows. And then, of course, he and I would text each other like Bob Costas. My dad's like the old, skinny Jewish Bob Costas, without a lot of opinions about my husband. Coaching. I bet.

So was it baseball that offered the balm, the magic, or was it the fact that it was Little League baseball? Or would it have mattered from a communal sort of bringing together thing, you know, whether you're sitting in Oriole Park at Camden Yard or the Iron Bird Stadium, right? The minor league team that Cal runs up there in Aberdeen. Did that matter? I think we could have been watching a season of anything. But the thing about Little League in particular is that we were watching my kids.

So my dad and I had had a strained relationship and my brother's death. You know, we had some pretty big, bad, awful fights during the time when my brother was dying. And also my dad had custody of me and then gave me back to my mom. So there's a little family tension that had happened. Oh, that's a very Solomon. kind of thing that it could be, right? Yeah, they king's, they king, they was the king Solomon flavor divorce. Oh, so your mom, basically, it was your mom and your brother and you and your dad?

No, it was, I went to my mom, my dad actually won legal custody, which according to my mother had never happened in Los Angeles County up until that point. Her lawyer said, don't worry about it, Mrs. Strasser, like, moms get custody. You're fine. You're not a drug addict. You have a job. You're getting these kids. In fact, my dad got full custody.

My brother and I were three and five. So he would work at Delta Battery, and he worked six days a week. My dad never missed a day of work. And it was a lot for him to have essentially two toddlers by himself. And so after a few months, he realized he really couldn't take care of both of us. So he gave me back to my mom. Interesting. Frought?

I mean, did you come together as a family after that, holidays or anything like that, or was there a bright line sort of between it? Well, I had an evil stepmother named Carol, who I extensively write about in the book, and she wasn't thrilled about having me around. So that was a lot of the tension that had happened between my dad and I. So just circling back to answer your question, the thing about Little League is that we were watching my son. And I think my dad was rooting just as hard for my kid as I was. And it became very hard to hold a grudge against him during that season because nobody wished and wanted for things to go well for my kid as much as my dad.

Team first. Right. Family. Yeah. Team family. When did you realize you were healing as a child? as a result of these sojourns to the Little League park? Before the season even started, so there's a draft.

In the minor leagues in baseball, that's 9 and 10-year-olds, at least here in Arcadia Little League. That's the first season there's a draft. My husband, nobody really knows what he does, but is something with numbers and algorithms and stuff. I don't know, maybe he works for the CIA. It's super boring. The people ask and then he answers,

and then they tune out and glaze over. But he approached the Little League. draft in a very moneyball fashion. He had algorithms. He had plans, plans B, anyway, he drafted his team. And then it was the first time that my dad and I were going to see the whole team together. And so I remember he said, we'll go look at practice for five minutes. And I was like, okay, dad. So he rode his bike to my house and we drove over to the field near where there's the plaque when you went jogging in the heat and didn't have your electrolytes. And we sat and we said, we're just going to watch five minutes of practice.

And then we watched a 90-minute practice. And I had a feeling then like, oh, my gosh, we're the weirdos that watch practice. But I remember thinking, I don't want practice to end. I just want to sit here and be with my dad. I just want to sit here and be together and we don't have to talk. And you know how beautiful it is there with Camelback Mountains on one side and Papago Park on the other, the sun's setting. and I knew that something was happening then,

that there was some reconciliation, and I couldn't wait for the next practice. And then we were those weirdos that watched every single practice and obviously every game. I love stories like this. Seven years ago, a guy named Ben Still was a musician.

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E-Ha! That's just terrific, man. Really, I mean, it's just so human. It's just so epic, obviously. I'm assuming you've watched Field of Dreams. Well, look, I mean, no movie better illustrates this eternal thing that I'm talking about, right? Because you cannot, if you're a male of the human species, how are you going to watch Field of Dreams and not cry? Because your dad's going to come out of the cornfield,

have a catch with you? For a catch. For a catch. Oof. True words, never spoken. Yeah. As opposed to say Bull Durham, which also checks a very important box as well through the lens of baseball.

Tell me more. Well, I mean, Bull Durham, you know, watching Kevin Costner. Susan Sarandon. Susan Sarandon, yes, yes. Talk about opening a world of possibilities if you're a young, man, right, who sang in the opera and once upon a time dressed as a Viking. Just suddenly go, oh, you know, I know exactly what that dude's doing. I know exactly. I know exactly how baseball is working out for him. But it is interesting, right? So many ways that

that game relates to so many different people. I mean, you're writing about it in like a deeply emotional, cathartic way. And I have friends, I mentioned another Phoenician, Scott Flansberg, the human calculator. He's kind of famous in Phoenix. I don't know if you've ever crossed paths or heard of him, but he's... I just replaced his batteries last week. Well, you know what? It wouldn't shock me if he runs on batteries.

I mean, for real, as a human, because he's, he has a very different kind of brain, but he played ball. And if you ask him why he... he likes baseball, an hour later, he'll still be talking about your earlier point, the distance to first base, the distance to second, you know, 90 feet there, but 66 point, whatever it is, from the pitcher's mound to home plate. And really, also the beauty, like, think about how many close plays you've seen at first. Like, I mean, plays that go like, like a fraction of a second. So close you have to play it back. That's not a coincidence, right? So many skinnier teeth plays.

There's something mathematically beautiful and not coincidental about that. Oh, of course. And as somebody who my brother was a lefty and my son is a lefty, so they both play first base. My husband always tells me that I can't applaud because it's a, quote, routine play. But I love when my son, who's very tall, is playing first and he has to do that stretch to get the school. And he's a scoop and it's almost like a James Brown split. I love that. I mean, that's like Cirque de Salle stuff. I've seen those guys. Like, Boog Pal couldn't do that. The old first basement for the Orioles when we were growing up, he just stood there like Mount Rushmore and caught it. But it's beautiful to watch. So how old's your son? He's now, he'll be 14 this month and in the book he's nine.

But he still plays. What did he think of the book? Hasn't read it. Doesn't care for reading, Mike. Doesn't care for reading. Not a fan of it. You must be so proud. Hasn't read Mom's book.

Wow. What about listening? He doesn't want to listen to it? No, no time. No time to listen to Mom's book. Mike Rose is a pretty busy guy. He listened to my entire prologue. Nathaniel, no. I'm going to read it.

I'm going to read it. So your boy's called Nathaniel. Your dad was Nelson? Nelson. Yeah. And this is your second book. Yes. My first book is called Exploiting My Baby because it's exploiting me.

Mm-hmm. And it's humorous essays about pregnancy. So I guess I only write about the major life cycle events. It's either birth, death, or baseball. That's funny. I'm working on a draft called Exploiting My Mother. which is coming together pretty well. How did it do?

So, I mean, I'm just going back to, all right, you're writing for a game show, and then suddenly you write this book, and now you're kind of in the media a little bit, so you know how the game is played, as it were. Were you able to promote it? Was your publisher happy? Did you make the list? So, okay, so in between there, I left out that I got what was then a big hosting job

for a home makeover show. At a certain point, TLC was actually the learning channel before it was like little people, big tumors, big families, and then the medium. Little bigger medium. But I hosted a makeover show called While You Were Out, which was very popular. I did 50 episodes. You know, it was a top show on cable along with Trading Spaces, Wrestling, and SpongeBob. I had a little bit of a more of a platform then. But that book actually, and I was on the Adam Carolla show,

that book was a bestseller for one magical week. And by the way, Peggy Rowe is a three-time New York Times bestseller, your mom. Okay, so she has done way better. I made the L.A. Times bestseller list for one week, and that's because I went on the Dr. Phil show, and he just did one of these. He had my book. He held it up to the camera.

He walked over to the camera and he said, y'all got to read this book. You will laugh until you're sick. And then people bought it. That's all it took. As I was writing this book, I got a news alert. Dr. Phil's going off the air. So that was bad for me.

May I share some of my experiences with Dr. Phil? Yeah. So when I was pregnant with Nathaniel, I did not know what I would be naming him. So Dr. Phil, you know, obviously his daytime show would appeal to moms. And so he wanted to have a mom correspondent on his show. So I pitched him a man on the street piece, help me name my baby. I was like eight months pregnant.

So they send me out to Larchmont Boulevard. I'm huge. I'm huge. I gained 60 pounds, right? So I'm out to here. Wow. And asking people, you know, was running my names by people. Like at the time I thought, should I name him Bo?

I thought about Laslo. I don't think Nate was on the table yet. And then my other name was Edward. So I'd have people go, whoa, don't name him Bo. That's B-O. And then Dr. Phil would bring me back. He maybe had me back a dozen times to do these mom stories. And Dr. Phil is, obviously, you know that he's smart,

but he kind of does the folkspun wisdom thing. Yeah. I think he is so. much more intellectually adept than I would have thought. I'll never forget. I had a new baby, and I was talking, you know, he asked me, how's the baby sleeping? And I said, oh, I'm reading the Ferber book. And he knew exactly what I was talking about. I mean, he had a deep knowledge of, like, pediatric sleep training. He was so kind. And I remember he asked me to stay late once to do a second show. And I was like, not to be gross. But I had a new baby at that point. I was pumping. So I had like a

pump in the dressing room and it was like a whole thing. And he was so sensitive and nice about it. And then the next day he sent me flowers to thank me. Like he was a wonderful person to work for an extremely insightful, shrewd, smart, kind. Yeah. Courtly, almost. You old school. Yes. That's great. I'm still stuck on TLC. Yeah. They hired me in 1993 to host a show called romantic escapes. Oh boy. Which turned out to be neither in hindsight. But it was the first, like, non-luxury show they did.

No experts, no teachers, right? No, none of that. It was just me. No little people, big tumor. May I ask you what happened with romantic escape? That was neither? We did 13 episodes. And, well, we might have done more, but.

My co-host and me, we were going in different directions and we had different opportunities. And so it was just a question of, well, you know, do you want to spend, like, do you want to double down on the illusion of romance in five-star resorts? And, you know, it wasn't a bad gig. But it was, for me, it was a classic hosting gig. And this was 1993, 94. And I was just kind of getting it straight in my mind that what I wanted to do was not hope. I wanted to be in a host role, but I wanted to act like a guest, you know? I hadn't yet figured out a model that would allow me to do that.

All I knew for sure was that it wasn't romantic escapes. So, you know. Which was neither. While you were out was interesting in as much as it was produced by the BBC. And these Brits were trained documentarians. Everything was verite. On trading spaces, they had a team of what they call. elves who would come out and actually do the work.

But the British broadcasting, BBC, they did not believe in that. So we did the work. When the cameras weren't rolling, it was still us. It was like, you know, the sexy carpenter guy and the sexy carpenter girl and me and, you know, some production people. But we painted the rooms. I welded. I used a handstander.

We actually physically did the work. And of course, there's always a ticking clock because you have to have jeopardy. because it's TV and there's a low budget. But we did the work, and I will say that a ticking clock and jeopardy and a small budget and power tools isn't always a great combination in terms of personal safety. Fingers were lost. Seriously. I ended up in the emergency room at one point with heat stroke, which you're very familiar with.

Yeah, Indian School Road, face down, lying there, be-less celebrity, sweltering in the heat. People just walk right past me. I still can't get over that your dad rides his bike in Phoenix. That's crazy. Yeah. Yeah. He doesn't matter if it's 117. He does not have a car.

He only rides his bike. He lives in a trailer park where he refuses to turn on the air conditioning because he doesn't want to waste money. And at one point, he, okay, my dad has figured out that Medicare, he can get an ambulance ride for $25. He's figured this out. So when he doesn't feel well, he starts to panic, but he doesn't call 911. He calls me, T, T, T, I don't feel good.

Can you call 911 for me? So I call 911. Like, it's me again. Yep, Teresa Strausser. Yeah, Nelson's daughter. Yeah, you know the unit at the Riviera mobile home park, and they go over there. So he's had some.

you know, sorry, I'm sure he wouldn't mind me telling you, but a couple of bladder infections, and then he spikes a fever, and he doesn't know what it is, and he gets disoriented. Anyway, the last time I met him at the hospital, I followed the ambulance and the fire trucks, and I met him over there, and these paramedics, like, took me into a room, and I think they thought that I was doing some elder abuse because his trailer was hot, and they said, look, we have notes from our paramedics. your dad's trailer does not have air conditioning

and I said, whoa, whoa, whoa, back up. Oh, it does have air conditioning because I paid for that air conditioning and there's a unit in every room. That old fart will not turn it on. Don't look at me. I'm trying to keep him alive. That's funny.

What's your face, the best phone call you ever got from your dad? Oh, well, I'll tell you every phone call I ever had with my dad, as I've previously explained, was the chaos at Delta Battery. But as you pointed out, and so insightfully, and I didn't even think about it until you put it in these terms, but I knew where to find my dad. I always knew that he was going to pick up the phone. If Ahmad and Jose were busy, but I always knew where he was going to be Monday through Saturday,

and he would always pick up the phone and always talk to me, even if there was 10 people in the garage and, you know, the vulva had it was in the back drive safely yeah he was going to pick up but okay so i remember i had a big big hosting audition huge it doesn't seem that big now but at the time we didn't know that the show was going to fail so at one point stephen spielberg had a reality show and if you won the show he would give you a big cash prize and you would get to make a movie and he would be your mentor. And I think at that point it was the first time that Steven Spielberg had ever deigned to be involved with anything in television. So it was a huge opportunity and it already had a host. So almost every job I've ever had, I'm replacing somebody. I'm always Lou Gehrig. I'm

never your first idea. I'm never your first choice. In fact, they saw everybody in Hollywood for this hosting job and I didn't even get in the first time. So they were getting rid of the first host, who I I think was Chelsea Handler, and they had narrowed it down to between me and one other girl. And I remember calling my dad at work. Delta Battery. Dad, dad, dad. I'm auditioning for Steven Spielberg. Oh, my God.

This is amazing. This is amazing. Amad, my daughter is. Spielberg, my daughter. She's got to be a huge star. Amat. So I audition. They bring me back.

I test for the job. And then I remember like, well, you'll find out by 7 p.m. And then, you know, it's 6.59. Oh. Seven. It's 701. 7.05. My dreams have been dashed.

I will never, ever be anything. Spielberg didn't hide. This was it. I'm never going to have another opportunity. It's over. I just felt crushed. And I remember calling my dad, who was then home. So I didn't have the chaotic Delta battery call.

But I said, it was crushing. and I said, Dad, Stephen Spielberg did not hire me. I didn't get the job. And he took a beat and he said, Stephen Spielberg is a putts. E.T. is a terrible movie. It's schmaltzy. I never even liked him.

Steven Spielberg. What does he know? What does he know? I said, dad, Steven Spielberg is a national tree. treasure. He's one of the best directors to ever work in this medium.

No, no. E.T. is a terrible movie. Dad, what about Schindler's list? Schindler's list. Schmaltz. Yeah. Slapstick. Well, that's loyalty right there. That's a guy who immediately stuck his finger in the air, determined

which way the wind was blowing, and picked the side immediately. And it's your side. Team first. Team first. Yeah, man. Team first. First. What was the show? I think it was called, gosh, do you remember?

There was a show called Project Greenlight. Oh, sure. And I think that was Matt, Damon, and Ben Affleck. So it was kind of a rip-off of that. God, I should look it up, but I'll never forget the girl who got the job's name is Adriana Costa, because, of course, I've had to follow her career. And honestly, she was a much better choice. She had already worked at CNN doing some kind of show business-y stuff.

So it just made more sense. but I don't even think the entire season aired, and if it did, it kind of petered out. For some reason, either America was sick of reality competition shows by that point or it just didn't click. So it didn't end up becoming as huge a deal as it seemed like it would. It's amazing to me how many people are surprised when I tell him this, but Spielberg is just as capable of falling on his face in the TV world as anybody. You know, I got a call a couple years ago from Mark Burnett, who was doing a little bit of. a version of Shark Tank for TBS, which was a slam dunk. It was called America's, I think, greatest maker, or maybe making it in America.

And it was just, it was basically Shark Tank, but it, you know, it was funded by Intel, right? So they, like, wrote a giant check. The formula was in. You got Mark Burnett, and I was one of the judges. And I've just, I had never seen so much certainty around a project. Like this thing is gonna go. It has to go. And I just remember saying to marry my partner. I'm like, man, I mean Does it have to go really? Are we all so sure? Anyway, we shot two pilots. It completely crapped the bed and that was it. It was so big and then it was just so nothing like nothing. It was a

guaranteed home run and it's not like oh, okay, we're gonna settle for a triple or a stand-up double or just a squeaker at for it was nothing. You all couldn't even lay down a bunt. Nothing. You just got hit in the head with the pitch, and they just took you away. That's it. You're out. I mean, as a guy who was hired twice to host the Daily Show and then had it pulled back twice,

what you're saying is it's like it's the only real opportunity in our industry to build character. And it's a level of failure that is, to me, it's so interesting because it's preceded by a level of certainty. that's so sure. And it just never fails to amuse me. That's why I'm not shocked to hear that. But look, now here you are, a two-time bestselling author, if I can be so bold. Well, no, that's your mom. I was an L.A. Times bestseller for one week.

And making it home has gotten some beautiful reviews in USA Today and publishers weekly and, of course, from Cal Ripkin Jr., good housekeeping. but it has yet to crack Peggy Rose, New York Times bestseller list. You would love my mother. I should hook you guys up. She's working on her fourth book now. Her first, by the way, she was 80. She became a New York Times bestselling author when she was 80.

She wrote every day for 60 years. 60 years. Nobody ever gave it the time of day. Wait, can you tell me more? Did she have a writing routine? Oh, yeah. Well, she was obsessive with it. I mean, she didn't know it at the time, but she was born too right.

Now, she also raised three boys and she taught school. But every day, I mean, growing up, she was always armed with a yellow legal pad and a couple of pencils. And if she saw a cop on a horse, she'd interview him. If she saw an interesting waitress at the diner, she would interview her. And she would write these unauthorized biographies of these strangers. and she'd put them on the refrigerator with a magnet and my dad would take them off and read them to strangers

in a crisp well-modulated baritone. So that's their life. The old man would like sidle up next to you at a, you know, at a Bob's big boy after church and just say, hey, have you heard the latest from Peggy Row? And just start reading stories. So that was their deal for 60 years. And so did she have a writing routine?

Not really. She just always wrote all of the time, and she still does. That's so beautiful because, first of all, that's a beautiful love story of how much your dad was supporting your mom's dream to write, even though she was also a teacher and a mother. He must have known, like, this is something she was driven to do, and it was so important to her. But the fact that... He just loved her. He loved her. Still does.

Yeah. And I also can see, you know, I'm just meeting you, Mike, now, but I feel like I've known you because I've watched you and listened to you for so many years, but that your dad had the beautiful, modulated voice, and your mom was the born storyteller, and they converge and make a one Mike Rowe, who, for some reason, did not get the daily show. Twice. Didn't get the Daily Show. Twice. In fact, I was so crushed, not to make this about me, but you. Please. Pandora's box with the game show.

And I can't. There's something so between the game of baseball and the show of games. And your curriculum, Viette, you know, a writer for a guy like Ben Stein, and then off to host a game show. And then a quasi-reality thing for a network that you used. to care about learning. It's all just so familiar to me. But when I think about the twists and the turns, when they gave it to John Stewart,

I felt exactly the way you did when Spielberg. I mean, I was just like, you've got to be kidding me. It's like, that's it. I mean, I was so sure, Teresa, that I was supposed to host the Daily Show that I couldn't believe it when they gave it to Craig Kilbourne a year earlier. And then I really couldn't believe it.

Like the universe got back right and they said, okay, he's gone, it's yours. The only way you don't get this is if this network coughs up like millions of dollars for like Norm McDonald or Chevy Chase or Dennis Miller or John Stewart. That'll never happen. Two days later it happens. And I'm done. Then Dick Clark offers me a game show called No Relation. And I take it.

And I move to California. and I'm basically like living in Chuck's, I'm sleeping on Chuck's sofa. Hosting this freaking game show for 40 episodes. It was my sports coat that got you the job, I believe. The audition, all it said was looked like a game show host, and in his closet was hanging this periwinkle nightmare of a coat, and I put it on. And the executive producer for Dick Clark just looked at the jacket and said,

that's the ugliest thing I've ever seen. and then called me back. It came down to me and Ryan Sechrest, and I got the gig. And once again, we did 40 episodes. And Ryan Sechrest felt like you did when you lost the Daily Show. Because he was just a guy doing a radio show trying to break into TV. And here's his big break. And my friend Tom Frank hires me instead of him partly,

and he wouldn't mind me saying this, partly because, Chuck's jacket was the most hideous thing he'd ever seen, and partly because I reminded him of his older brother who had just died. Wow. How's that for crazy pants? If you don't think there's luck involved, that you reminded him of somebody because, look, I think Ryan Seacrest has proven he's a pretty competent broadcaster. And P.S., I was on his short-lived afternoon show called On Air with Ryan Seacrest, where I

would surprise super fans with tickets to concerts. It was a great bit. Like, I'd go to a diner in the Bronx, and I'd surprise somebody, a J-Lo superfan with J-Lo tickets, and then she'd freak out, and it was great TV. Yeah. Thank you, Ryan Cress. You reminded me that, so I audition for The View, and I also very much thought I was going to get that job.

Uh-huh. And my devastation was such that I'm actually embarrassed to tell you the full extent of it. Let's hear it. So I auditioned on a Friday. Ted Danson was there. And he said, they're going to hire you for this job. They're going to hire you for this job. You're good at this job.

This is Ted Dancing. Cheers. I'm like, oh, my God, it's happening. So I do the show Friday. I suffer from terrible stage fright, and I always have. That's an important. I am on 0.5 Clonopin right now. and I'm pushing through.

I don't know. I still do this job, and yet I've always had horrific stage fright. Every single day on the radio with Adam Carolla, I had butterflies. I have like workarounds, but I have a lot of anxiety. And so the view was my dream job. I was coming off of while you're out. And I thought, this is what's next for me. This is my destiny.

I'm doing this. And so I went on a Friday. I did it. It went so well that they asked me to stay and do another episode. which was going to be Monday. Well, people with anxiety who are listening have already done the math. I'm in New York.

Got the whole weekend. Nothing to do. But think about it. I'm actually like sweating right now. I'm sweating just like thinking about it. So they put me up in a hotel and I spent the entire weekend on the floor. Like I can remember the feel of the industrial carpet on my back.

And I put like my feet up. on the wall, maybe that was soothing. I don't know what I was doing. And I just thought, how am I going to make it till Monday? Like, I can't live with this level of anxiety. I will not survive. Also, I don't, sometimes I'm very uncomfortable if people like me or they think I'm talented. Because what's next is I'm going to disappoint you.

And you're going to see that you've made a mistake. Yeah. You better be likable and funny, starting now. Starting now. And then I like, when somebody likes me, I'm like, I never want to see you again. My work is done here. Let's just be done with this. My work is done here.

And the more you're exposed to me, the more chance there is for you to see that, like, I'm really a mess and I'm not that funny. And you're not going to like me. And I'm nothing and nobody. And I'm just a mechanic's daughter. Ahma. So I make it till Monday. There really was a Jose. Okay.

So I make it till Monday. And the type of anxiety I have, usually, When the lights come up, I'm fine. It's the anticipation of the thing. So I do the show. It goes amazing. After the show, I'm going right to the airport to fly home to L.A. That they were shooting at ABC in New York, still do.

And I was going back home to L.A. And my agent calls me in the cab and says, you are one of five girls to get a test deal for the view. Here's what it's going to pay. You're going to have a driver. Here's your wardrobe budget. I get on the plane, and at that time, there was not cellular phone service on the airplane. So for all five of those hours, it was like Schrodinger's cat. Like, I was both alive and dead.

Right. I could have been on the view, and I could have not. By the time I landed, they had already given the job to Elizabeth Hasselback. Yeah. Here's the embarrassing part. I had dreams about it frequently, like even one to two years later. And in the dream, so, by the way, the next. year I did a show called Good Day New York. So I ended up being in New York, but not on the

view. And then I couldn't even, I can never watch the view, not for one single second, because I was so jealous. I was so jealous. I just couldn't, I couldn't deal with it. But I would dream, one of those dreams, that's really realistic. Like you wake up and you go, oh, that happened where something happened to Elizabeth Hasselbeck. I'm not an awful person. So even in my subconscious, Like she didn't die. In my subconscious, like Hasselbeck had a bad flu. And they needed me. They let her mute and hideous.

They call and they go, Strausser, you got to get here. Hasselbacks out, okay? It's the leprosy. She's riddled with it. She has 24-hour leprosy. Okay? It's an acute case. It's not chronic.

We've de-louse. her dressing room. We've gotten rid of all the leprosy, but we need you to come in and sit and fill her chair. And when I'd wake up, I swear to you, I would be getting dressed to take a cab to ABC to fill in for Hasselback because the dream was so real. And then, you know, 12 minutes into getting dressed, oh, that didn't happen. She's healthy as a horse. That was a recurring dream. You had that? That was recurring for, wow. Nightly. But that could have been also a side effect of the leprosy. It could be right.

Well, you know what? I think it's useful. I mean, it sounds kind of self-indulgent, you know, for us just to sit here and talking about all this stuff. But I know that in relative terms, everybody's been there in some way, shape, or form, whether it's a job promotion or a boyfriend that got away or a girlfriend. There's just, I mean, it's sliding doors. And I really hadn't thought, you talked about Spielberg, and I'm talking about Spielberg, and I'm

talking about John Stewart and Comedy Central and you got all these things, but I hadn't thought really seriously about poor Ryan Seacrest until Chuck reminded me of the hideous Perry Winkle Blazer because as most people know today, Ryan Seacrest, his entire business model was built on living and thriving in Dick Clark's shadow. Dick Clark was the son in his solar system. And he's got a hot agent, and he's killing it on the radio in L.A., and he gets a call to audition not just for a game show, but for Dick Clark's game show. Dick Clark is executive producing it. So he comes in, and he goes right to the top, and he's about to be hired.

And in stumbles in the most forest gumpian way possible, me, wearing his coat, reminding the EP of his long-lost brother. And just like that, right? Atlas shrugs and Ryan's out and I'm in. And I guess the point is, is that in those moments where you're so sure that things are going to go one way, you have to square the fact that they went another.

And then you're so sure that you're never going to come back from that. And the next thing you know, if you're me, you find redemption in a river of crap, crawling through sewers. I mean, the fact that dirty jobs turned out to be my daily show is it's statistically impossible. And I don't know you.

This is premature, but we should be friends. Not that it'll do you any good, but I like you, and I bet you you're going to go on to become some version of Irma Bomback, you know, with a vulva in the back. Sorry, too much. You're going to...

There's our title. If life is a bowl of cherries, why is my vulva in the back? Something is going to happen. Not that it hasn't already, but I mean, I look at the dots on the table that appear to be Teresa Strausser from Adam Carolla to everything you've mentioned. And it's just just keep doing what you're doing. This book is going to be huge. And I say this as a guy who's only read the prologue.

It's great. It's the best prologue I've ever written. Did I write that? No. Red. That's what it is. Red. You know what I love?

You talk about, you talk to your dad about really harboring bad feelings toward like the third grader on the opposing team, which makes me laugh because like you're really... That little piece of shit couldn't hit water if he fell out of a boat. That's exactly. Like the permission to root against a third grader on the opposing team, that's a beautiful thing. And I'd just like to jump in to say that book is called Making It Home.

home life lessons from a season of Little League. You can get it wherever fine books are sold and even not so fine books, probably. Average books. They got it there. They got it everywhere. They better have it. Seriously, folks, I'm going to listen this week and I'll fillate it properly next time it comes up somewhere down the road. But, I mean, really, as prologues go, you knocked it out of the park, so to speak.

Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you, Chuck. I agree with Mike that your hair is fantastic, even though pay. Hegie wants you to get it trimmed. Yeah. Thank you. Appreciate that.

You're in an awkward phase right now, right? Yeah, it is. You're going to get a lot of pressure from a lot of people to be respectable. But just go look at the Big Lobowski. Think Sam Elliott. And imagine what you can do with a big, long, head of steel gray hair. The dude abides. The dude abides.

Last question, real quick. Best baseball movie of all time. I love Bull Durham because don't F with the winning streak is one of my favorite lines in any movie. I'm very superstitious. Obviously, I love Field of Dreams. I love the natural. However, I'm going to have to go with the sandlot because... You're killing me, Smalls.

You're killing me, Smalls. David Mickey Evans blurbed my book and is a great guy. Clearly, you've forgotten about the... Bad News Bears. Oh, wait a second. Hold on. Are you talking about because not only do I love the original with Walter Mathau, but I also love the remake with Billy Bob. Which really, I thought, laid the pipe for Bad Santa. Yes.

Right. Right. Yeah. You're welcome back any time. Oh, thank you. I mean, I know it's very dissatisfying. We're here in our little boxes on our stupid computers, but, you know, we should do it in person sometime. We're thinking, well, actually, you're not in L.A.

Are you? You actually live in Phoenix? I can be there. All right. All right, good. Good. I think you're awesome. Thank you, really, for doing this.

This was fun. Thank you so much for having me. It still is fun. I'm going to tell my mother you said hello. Please do. Yeah. Yeah, because you guys have to. You know what I love about Mike?

He's like super good at short goodbyes. It's just to you. It's a gift, Chuck, and I'll tell you why. Why? Tell me. I got 20 minutes. I don't have a Jewish goodbye. I know the Irish goodbye.

What's the Jewish goodbye? Is it similar? You know the Irish goodbye. A Jewish goodbye is my husband tells me 45 minutes before we need to leave someplace. Because that's how long it's going to take me to get out. I got it. Well, with that in mind, don't just hang up right now because you want to. We have to make sure this is uploaded.

I mean, assuming any of it's usable. And then I think we'll all be in good shape. Thanks, Teresa. Thank you. Making it home. Pick up a copy. I know it's going to be great. If you're done, please subscribe.

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