From the Sharon Dunn |
| Barney, I was wrong about you One phone call and not only am I won over, I’m invited round for a hug |
 I was not looking forward to the Barney interview. As a matter of fact, I tried to get out of it, but my editor insisted. “It’ll be funny,” she promised, “Everybody loves Barney.” “Not everybody!”, I told her. I’ve personally never liked the purple dinosaur. And frankly, I’ve never even met a kid who likes him. “Do you like Barney?” I ask my 12-year-old son. “No,” he barks without hesitation. “But you insisted on wearing a Barney costume on Halloween when you were three years old,” I remind him. “You’re not going to say that in your story, are you?” he asks, terror spreading across his face. Apparently nothing could ruin his reputation faster than the news getting out that he once liked the purple dinosaur. This all became an issue because Barney, or at least his costume, was in town over the weekend for Winterfest, so I begrudgingly set up a phone interview with the voice of Barney. “The character voice is always the same,” Barney’s publicist tells me, explaining why interviews are done over the phone. “It’s just the man in the costume who keeps changing”, he says, adding, “Barney’s people provide journalists with sample questions to ask during the telephone conversation, like: ‘What is your favourite colour?’ and ‘What kind of dino are you, Barney?'” A paragraph in the instructions states that: ‘Barney will not discuss current affairs such as politics or social issues.’ Like I wanted Barney’s views about a possible war with Iraq. Gimme a break. While I’m making arrangements with the publicist, I tell him, “Actually, I’ve heard a rumour that a Barney was caught looking up some little girls’ dresses”. “What kind of stories do you write anyway?” he asks me, understandably aghast. But despite my best effort to frighten him off, the interview goes ahead, as planned. And at the appointed time, the phone rings and the voice of that sickeningly friendly purple dinosaur is on the other end of the line. “How are you?” he says in his singsong manner. “I’m just ok,” I reply. “I’m going to make you great,” he says. I tell him that’s the best offer I’ve had all year. “And how will he accomplish this”, I want to know. “We can sing and dance,” he says. I groan. “What about the Thinking Bench? (an apparent reference to some prop on Barney & Friends). We’ll spin you around until you come up with a good idea.” “The Post tries that all the time, it never works”, I quip. “Or I could just come up and we could hang out”, he offers. Okay, now he’s starting to scare me. I tell him I’ve done my research and know that he’s not the most popular guy on the block. When he responds with shock and dismay, I remind him of Nine Months, in which Tom Arnold and Hugh Grant beat up an annoying purple dinosaur named Arnie. “Why would they do that?” he wants to knows, miffed, “I’m just here to love everyone. Isn’t that what the world needs now more than ever? “Since Barney seems to be getting a little political, I break the rule. “So what do you think about a possible war with Iraq?” “I don’t know much about that,” Barney tells me, unfazed, “but I do know a lot about brushing your teeth..do you brush your teeth after every meal?,” he asks me. “Actually, I don’t”, I admit. “Well, you must,” he advises. “And make sure you floss and drink lots of milk.” “Milk gives me gas,” I tell him. “I’ll make a note of that,” Barney puns, cheekily. About his popularity, Barney says, “I think everyone likes me, they just don’t want to admit it.” I confess that I’ve heard about ‘closet Barneys’, people who can’t own up to liking this guy. Then I even admit that I didn’t want to do the interview with him. “Do I scare you?” he asks. “Frankly, you do,” I tell him. “And why is that?”. he wants to know. “I’m lovable and huggable. Maybe I should just come over there,” he says again. “Now you’re really scaring me.”, I tell him. “Maybe you’re afraid of love?”, he says. Bingo. He hits on my big problem in life, I’ve always been running away from love. “You must have spoken with some of my past boyfriends”, I tell him. Barney goes on to give me advice on overcoming my ‘fear of love’ and I realize that I’m enjoying our conversation. Why, he’s better than my shrink! “What you need to do every day when you wake up,” he tells me, “is, first of all, you need to know that you’re loved by me. And the first person you see, you need to give them a hug.” “The first person I see would be myself in the mirror.” “Than you have to hug yourself,” he says. “Call me back and tell me how it works out.”, he adds before hanging up. I laugh as I put down the phone, amused that now I actually like Barney. My phone rings again. It’s Barney’s PR guy. “Barney wants to meet you,” he tells me.” “You’re kidding,” I say. “No, really, he wants to meet you. Can you come to the show?” he asks. Then he confers with Barney in the background. “He just wants to see you. He says he loves you and wants to give you a hug.” Of course I pass on the invite because, as Barney has already astutely identified, I’m terrified of love, but can you believe it? Of all of the famous guys I’ve interviewed over the years, the only one to call me back to make a date is Barney. I have to say I’m getting to like the guy. But this is the only time I’ll admit it. by Sharon Dunn Edited Dec. 30/24 |