The Ten Make That Nine Habits of Very Organized People. Make That Ten Read online

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  INTRODUCTION

  I STARTED TWEETING FOR PURELY COMMERCIAL REASONS. I realized that when I did a television show to promote a book or record, and that television show had an audience of, say, four million people, about four hundred of them rushed out to buy the book or record. I figured if I had a Twitter audience of four hundred thousand—an audience that was tuned into me—and I promoted a book, then four hundred thousand of them would rush out and buy my book. Instead, forty of them rushed out to buy my book.

  However, I soon lost my interest in promoting through Twitter, other than casually, and got hooked on the comedy potential. I found the limits exciting, and liked that these thoughts popped up randomly on someone else’s device, perhaps catching them at an odd moment. I also liked that these thoughts popped up randomly in me, and kept me on my comedy toes. I thought tweeting might be a way to cultivate lines and ideas for my new banjo stage show I am now touring with. It wasn’t. All this tweet material turned out to be good for one thing only: tweeting.

  When I started, around Labor Day of 2010, I didn’t really understand the ins and outs of Twitter, and it wasn’t till about four months later that I noticed that people were tweeting me back. Then, I started noticing how tuned-in and funny the responses were, and then a few months later I started saving the best of them (cut and pasted, by hand, by me) in a file. This was real enjoyment: I would run to my wife quoting someone’s latest clever response, laughing hard.

  In a sense, this book has a narrative. Even though I’ve jumbled the tweets around for structure, if the book is read in order, which no one will, you can watch me stumble, get wise, get responsive, go from longer consecutive story tweets to shorter self-contained ones. At first, a complaint from a reader (“too long,” “too many,” etc) would make me panic and sweat like I was a first-time comedian on an audition stage. I made a vow to make my tweets grammatically correct, so if I erred I felt I looked like a dolt. (This led to a regular tweet called “Get it Right Friday,” where I corrected any errors throughout the week. “Get it Right Friday,” by the way, always came on Thursday.)

  Once, a beginner’s gaffe made me the most nervous and panicked I ever was but led to one of my best tweets. On my banjo tour with the Steep Canyon Rangers, the fastest way to get reviews was to search Twitter for my name after a show, which I did. Then I realized I had inadvertently tweeted my name. I instantly figured that my Twitter audience would conclude that I was searching myself on Twitter, highly embarrassing. After palpitations and perspirations, I composed myself and tweeted: “Steve Martin oily muscles beach Speedo photo.” Then I immediately tweeted, “Sorry, meant to Google myself.”

  Kazowie! Kablooie! Hooboy! Just mulling over some ideas for celebrity baby names.

  Going out today to take pictures of paparazzi.

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  Got some great pictures of paparazzi today. Man, they UGLY! Went through their garbage too. Found my own garbage in their garbage.

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  Been asked to appear on the new primetime show, “So You Think You Can Vomit.” Excited!

  My publicist is nervous about my becoming a Tweeter. He says celebrities tend to make such monumental gaffes. He’s such a typical Wop!

  The Red Cross is a really good cause, but one billiard ball hitting another is a really good cause and effect.

  My wife doesn’t know I’m Tweeting. She thinks I’m writing a screenplay…

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  …So if you see me on the street, please say, “How’s the ‘screenplay’ going, Steve?” We’ll both do a “thumbs up” and keep moving….

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  Could we have a rehearsal? Please say, “How’s the ‘screenplay’ going, Steve?”

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  Excellent. Don’t over emphasize “screenplay” because she’s not stupid and that would be a giveaway. No winking either.

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  It’s not “How’s the SCREENPLAY going?” Bad. Amateur.

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  Remember, I’m a professional actor. Let me do the heavy lifting. Practice your thumbs up in front of a mirror at home.

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  Some of you will make the mistake of pointing your thumb down. Don’t worry. A few tries will make it perfect.

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  …some time later…

  Oh boy, lots of bad acting so far:

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  “How’s the uh..uh..(look at palm) SCREENPLAY going… uh..uh..(racking brain) LESLIE NIELSEN.” Yipes. Or:

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  “How’s the screenplay going?” So far so good. Then, nice thumbs up, followed by walking into a lamp post. Conk.

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  And it’s thumbs UP. Not thumbs SIDEWAYS. And it’s not middle finger up. It’s the THUMB.

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  After you give me the thumbs up, and I return it, DON’T GIVE ME A THIRD THUMBS UP, followed by an OK sign. JUST WALK. Avoid lamppost.

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  Remember, you’re a real person, not King Lear. Don’t orate the line. IT’S UNREAL. No need to wear a giant thumb. Wife started crying.

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  Anyway, LEARN YOUR LINES: Gee, how many times did I hear, “How’s the screen-uh, thingy, whatever, whatsis, line please! aw fergit it.” Conk.

  So frustrating when you have to text but you’re home so you have to go get in the car and drive all the way to the left lane of the freeway.

  DOING CAMEO ON CSI AS FACE DOWN DEAD BODY WITHOUT A CHALK OUTLINE. WHY? NEW EMMY CATEGORY: FACE DOWN DEAD BODY WITHOUT A CHALK OUTLINE.

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  Rehearsing at home for tomorrow’s CSI cameo, “face down dead body without a chalk outline.” Maid screams. Wife calls lawyer, then 911.

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  At the mall. Think I’ll do some rehearsing. Lie on sidewalk, get into “dead guy” character. Quite hard to do without chalk outline.

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  Did not go well at mall. Passerby said, “how’s the screenplay goin’, Steve?” Worried about tomorrow’s performance on CSI… and Emmy.

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  Driving home, trying “slumped over dead guy.” No wonder this is Emmy stuff.

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  It’s late. Need place to rehearse Dead Guy. I lie at bottom of stairs. Wife comes home. Do I break character? Never. She dials shrink.

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  Just did CSI cameo. Went well. But got up, saw CHALK OUTLINE. What? Miscommunication about role. EMMY CHANCES DASHED.

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  CSI contrite. They’ve promised me a shot at “man with briefcase” in final episode. Working with briefcase now. Have to flash briefcase brand. Hard.

  Pretty hectic day. Got some letters in the mail, now I’m busy alphabetizing them. Back in touch tomorrow.

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  So great that alphabet already in alphabetical order. What a timesaver.

  THIS IS AWFUL. SOMEONE HAS LEAKED MY CAR’S PRIVATE GPS LOCATIONS:

  It’s odd. No matter how much I keep eating, I can’t get my stomach to go flat.

  Running low on Twitter feed. Going to store to get more.
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  Now pretaping dog walk so I don’t have to take him out late at night.

  I’m leaving town for two days and I left the window to the right of my front door unlocked. I can’t think of anything stupider.

  . I leef driew yadot.

  SING ALONGS

  Around Christmas, I proposed sing-a-longs. (And this is where I first started collecting reply tweets.) I would “sing” the first line of a song, and followers would suggest the next word of the song:

  Now it’s time to sing along. I’ll sing the first line, and you’ll sing the last words of that line! DECK THE HALLS WITH…?

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  Anonymous Tweeter: Boutrous ghali?

  Anonymous Tweeter: Salvador Dali?

  Anonymous Tweeter: Buddy holly?

  Anonymous Tweeter: Giant Otters?

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  That’s right, “Deck the halls with Buddy Holly!” Fa la la la la, la la la la ’Tis the season to be…?

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  Anonymous Tweeter: Stuart Smalley?

  Anonymous Tweeter: Big and Tall-y?,

  Anonymous Tweeter: Weezer?

  Anonymous Tweeter: a Svengali?

  Anonymous Tweeter: Smoking With Sir Walter Raleigh

  Anonymous Tweeter: watching Along Came Polly?

  Anonymous Tweeter: a border collie?

  Anonymous Tweeter: off your trolley?

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  That’s right, “ ’Tis the season to be off your trolley,” Fa la la la la, la la la la. Don we now our gay…?

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  Anonymous Tweeter: roommate Darrel?

  Anonymous Tweeter: formal loungewear?

  Anonymous Tweeter: Don we now our gay, I mean stylish, red sweater?

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  That’s right, “Don we now our gay, I mean stylish, red sweater,” Fa la la la la, la la la la. Troll the ancient…?

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  Anonymous Tweeter: green tinted cheddar?

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  That’s right, “Troll the ancient green tinted cheddar!” Fa la la la la, la la LA LA! It’s been fun singing with you! Xerry Christmas!

  Okay, here we go. I’ll sing the first verse, and you sing the last few words:

  Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer had a very…?

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  Anonymous Tweeter: gaping wound?

  Anonymous Tweeter: difficult Sudoku?

  Anonymous Tweeter: large mortgage balloon payment?

  Anonymous Tweeter: inflamed nasal area?

  Anonymous Tweeter: lucrative royalties deal with clown costume manufacturers?

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  That’s right, “had a very large mortgage balloon payment.” And if you ever saw him…

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  Anonymous Tweeter: you would tell him he’s foreclosed?

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  And if you ever saw him, “you would tell him he’s foreclosed.”

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  All of the other reindeer used to laugh and…?

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  Anonymous Tweeter: call some dames?

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  That’s right, All of the other reindeer “used to laugh and call some dames.” They never let poor Rudolph…

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  Anonymous Tweeter: join in any ponzi schemes?

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  That’s right, They never let poor Rudolph “join in any ponzi schemes.”

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  Then one foggy Christmas Eve, Santa came to say: “Rudolph with your nose so bright,

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  Anonymous Tweeter: bring me Betty White tonight?

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  That’s right, “bring me Betty White tonight!” Then all the reindeer loved him as they shouted out with glee…?

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  Anonymous Tweeter: Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, you’ll go down on anybody?

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  That’s right, Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, if you’re gay You can go into the Armeeeeeeeeee!

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  Just when I think I have no more funny tweets in me, I come up with this one.

  A watched iPhone never syncs.

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  My iPhone is now lip-syncing.

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  iPhone just synced perfectly with toaster. All is well.

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  iPhone and computer heading off to hotel spa for leisurely afternoon sync. Back in 4 hours, they said.

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  iPhone and computer came back from spa with DIFFERENT CONNECTOR CORD. Is something going on?

  Trusting wife refusing to call me by my new name, The Great Yam. Trouble at home.

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  Taking advice of Tweepster, I am asking wife to call me The Galactic Potato. She’s refusing.

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  THIS IS A ONE TIME ONLY ANNOUNCEMENT: IT IS 10:39 AM, EASTERN TIME, ON DECEMBER 19, 2010.

  JURY DUTY

  REPORT FROM JURY DUTY: defendant looks like a murderer. GUILTY. Waiting for opening remarks.

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  REPORT FROM JURY DUTY: guy I thought was up for murder turns out to be defense attorney. I bet he murdered someone anyway.

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  REPORT FROM JURY DUTY: Prosecuting attorney. Don’t like his accent. Serbian? Going with INNOCENT. We’re five minutes in.

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  REPORT FROM JURY DUTY: I’m cracking up defense with my jokes. Judge not pleased. I like defense attorney. Defendant finds me funny. Nice guy!

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  REPORT FROM JURY DUTY: Other jurors are stupid. They don’t believe in “hexes.” Plus, they want me to put my magazines away.

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  REPORT FROM JURY DUTY: Defendant’s hair looking very Conan-y today. GUILTY.

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  REPORT FROM JURY DUTY: Attorneys presenting “evidence.” Since when are security photos, DNA, and testimony evidence? Trusting intuition.

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  REPORT FROM JURY DUTY: Now forcing my autograph on other jurors. Also starting whisper campaign of innocence based on Magic 8 Ball.

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  Slipped into evidence blow-up of fingerprint with my face worked into it. Got screams! Judge now banging gavel on my head. Hard to twee…

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  Defendant running for exit. Not to escape, but out of disgust. Judge wearing NOTHING under his robes.

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  REPORT FROM JURY DUTY: Finally, jurors are deliberating. I’m bored, so I’m making a list of my films in order of greatness.

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  REPORT FROM JURY DUTY: Uh oh. Jury foreman mixed up verdict with my greatest film list. Read out three film titles and judge booed.

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  REPORT FROM JURY DUTY: Defendant sentenced to death. Feeling bad. Wait… call from REAL JURORS OF BEVERLY HILLS. WORTH IT!

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  REPORT FROM JURY DUTY: Sad about execution, since defendant was proven to be at South Pole, not Ralph Lauren Polo Shop in Beverly Hills.

  I am going on a diet for the next hour.

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  Administering CPR to myself to recover from hour-long diet. Drinking tea and suckin
g on ice cubes made from bullion.

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  Going on twenty minute starvation diet.

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  Satisfied with today’s dieting. Going to dinner now at Restaurant Row. Not at one restaurant, entire restaurant row.

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  7 hour sleep diet worked great. Will power held beautifully.

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  Weight now fluctuating wildly because of twice daily 20 minute starvation diets.

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  Panic. Discovered bathroom scale resting on Q-Tip for past 7 years. Off by 24 pounds. Must lose it by New Years.

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  Going on 5 minute shower diet, followed by 30 second tooth brushing diet. They say these really work.

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  Next phase of weight loss program: Brazilian Butt Workout. I’ve looked at a hundred photos. So far, not working.

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  OMG (FYI, I abbreviated “Oh my God” to save space [oh, I abbreviated “for your information”], I made my own ten best people list this year!