Some nasty e-mail not withstanding, I have a few fans, you know.
But I ran into one, actually she ran into me, as I was coming in to work, who really made me grateful for this day, and this season.
Here's why: She loved me.
And frankly, I love people who love me.
But enough about me.
Now to this woman, and what she said. I'm kind of paraphrasing here, but something like this:
"Neil, I like you because you don't look like an anchor."
Ok, I'm thinking to myself. What did she mean by that?
She goes on to say, "You remind me of my Uncle Tom."
Again, I'm thinking, "Please tell me your Uncle Tom is a sexy genius."
"He's this big cuddly dopey guy who just loves to play jokes on people. Everyone loves him."
When I ask what Uncle Tom does for a living, the final blow:
"He's a professional clown."
I'm not kidding you. The guy she's comparing me to is a professional clown. I had no idea there were professional clowns. But he's one, and apparently very much like me.
But it gets better.
"Do you know my favorite thing about you, Neil?" she says.
"No," I nervously answered. "What?"
"You give my son hope."
Well, that sounded good, I said.
Until she added, "He's a little on the heavy side, not doing too great at school, and kids pick on his big head."
How do I respond to that? The only thing I could come up with was, "Well, I bet you he has a big brain."
To which she says, "Sadly, Neil, no, I love him dearly, but no, he doesn't."
I shake my head.
Then she adds. "But I keep telling him, look at Neil Cavuto. He's made something of himself."
Then she wishes me a merry Christmas.
Meanwhile, I'm wishing I was a little thinner and my head a little smaller.
Until I wished her a merry Christmas too, and passed along the same for her son.
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