Pressure Drop
Failure has a stench all its own. It smells like fear … and shame. I may have been conveniently removed from the burning wreckage inspired by last week\’s experiment, happily narcotized in a pressurized cabin on its way to Manila, but the odor followed me just the same.
It says something when the comments about a show (on my blog and on the message boards) were smarter, more thoughtful and insightful than the show itself.
The People Have Spoken.
Which made my arrival in the Philippines even more shaky. Of all the people who watch NO RESERVATIONS, it\’s been Filipinos who have been consistently among our biggest fans and most vocal about our having yet to film in their country.
\”You\’ve been all over Asia,\” I hear again and again,\” … so WHY haven\’t you come to the Philippines?!\”
Well … I\’m here. And the pressure is on. Luggage yet to arrive, I walk, unshaven, unwashed and in dirty clothes through the lobby of my hotel and everybody, it seems, watches the show. All eyes seem to follow my reeking carcass up to the breakfast buffet. People stop me and ask me what I plan to show the world of their country. Still stinging from the whirlwind of revulsion that followed last week\’s stillbirth, I wish I had a big floppy hat I could pull down over my head (if not my whole body). All I can say is \”Don\’t worry. We\’re NOT doing balut. Been there. Done that.\” And privately think to myself, \”Don\’t screw this up … don\’t screw this up … don\’t screw this up.\”
