Sunflowers

I was on the 23rd floor of Rockefeller Center looking down on the plaza where the TODAY Show has Friday morning concerts and Kenny Chesney was playing. I could see tiny people jumping up and down as the band was obviously rocking. I couldn't hear anything that high up behind the large glass window. Besides there were a lot of distractions.

Every time one of the agent's authors had been in the "New York Times Book Review" section of the Sunday paper it had been framed and hung on the walls. There were lots! Breaking them up and adding color to the walls were the framed covers of the books she had negotiated the deals over. As a lover of books and a writer it was hard not to be impressed.

Typical New York City, Rockefeller Center is imposing from the outside, then you get through security and off the elevator and the hallways are dingy little things. Then you open the door to the office suite and ... Whoa! Damn! That's impressive!

A glass walled conference room with one of the walls being a window looking down on Kenny Chesney driving the crowd wild. Melissa, ... blond, beautiful, wearing a blue and white sundress sat at her desk in the open space outside of the conference room. Behind her were two offices, one with no windows and I was introduced to Geri who is the money person and I thought, of course she has no windows ... she spends all of her time counting money (reminding me of a Board Chair who chooses to remain anonymous ... Jerry Rainy).

The other one was a corner with two windows that I was standing in front of looking down wondering if Matt Lauer was bogeying his ass off with everybody else.

"Shall we get started?" Maria Carvainis asked. A short, frumpy Jewish woman with a beautiful smile this was her agency.

The famous Dr. Jim Withers and I took our seats behind the glass desk that she sat behind. This was Jim's meeting and I was tagging along. He'd asked me to because I've published books and this is his first and he just wanted someone to hold his hand. I love Jim so of course I went. I was blown away by Maria and her agency though.

"Hello Micheal Elliott," she'd said shaking my hand without being told who I was when I'd followed Jim in. Of course she'd shaken Jim's hand first and then boldly came to me. She is impressive.

So they started talking and I was wondering about the sunflower seeds I'd planted back home.

At some point both of them were looking at me and I had no idea why. "Sorry, what did you say?" I asked in a clever attempt to cover myself.

"I was telling her how I spent last weekend with you," Jim explained, "so you could help me learn how you write but flotillas and the Samuel Adams Band kept getting in the way."

"Oh yeah," I shrugged. "It's true. It's my fault ... but Dedra and Cheryl helped."

Figuring this would end my involvement in their conversation I resumed wondering if Mom was watering the sunflower seeds or if Goddess was peeing on them.

"And" Maria asked?

And?

Shit there is more to this conversation!

"Ummm," I cleverly started. "Jim's a good writer. His story is incredible. You already know that. The book will be a movie. What else you want to know?"

Jim humbly looked down.

Maria beamed.

Nobody said anything.

"Yes!" I fist pumped my inward self.

They went back to talking. I started worrying about my sunflower seeds. I missed them.

Eventually they finished. "Micheal," Maria said handing me her card. "That's not my real email address." She handed me a pen, "The real one is ..." and gave it me.

"Well aren't you funny?" I said. "A rouge email address on you business card. I wish I'd thought of that!"

She smiled and I understood why she is so successful.

Melissa showed us out back into the dingy hall that led to the elevator, pass security back into the throngs of New York City. We were late for our next meeting so while I strolled like a good southern boy, Jim walked fast in little tiny steps like a northern boy.

I busted out laughing and Jim turned around to see why I wasn't keeping up with him. My hands were on my knees and a sea of people were separating to walk passed me ... I looked like a sidewalk Moses parting the water.

After I finished I meandered to Jim stood.

"We're gonna be late," he chided.

"Not in Savannah time," I replied. "We drip molasses on our clocks so nothing starts on time."

Uh-huh," he said with his hands on his hips before turning around and taking really fast little baby steps in the other direction.

I busted out laughing again with my hands on my knees.

When I finally stood up ... I noticed the throngs of people rushing pass me ... the majestic power of the buildings ... the imposing presence of New York City ...

And I thought ... I've finally slowed down enough to really enjoy all of this ... and to laugh in the midst of it all.

Then I wondered how my sunflowers were doing.