Let me admit it up front. It was an indirect connection. My local public TV station in El Paso, KCOS, decided to produce a short piece on “Prohibition on the Border” that would be tacked on to the third segment of Ken Burns’s documentary on Prohibition. Judging from the relatively small number of comments along the lines of “hey I saw you on TV last night,” I’m guessing that not that many local viewers made it to the end of the third night. I certainly didn’t. But I set the record button so that I would be sure not to miss my own insightful commentary.
I found myself strangely reluctant to watch. Finally, several nights later, battling insomnia, I fast-forwarded through the eminent historians (although it seemed to me some odd choices?) recruited by Burns to get to the really significant stuff—me. After about 30 seconds I’d had enough and put off watching it all the way through for several more days. Bad camera angle. Creepy voice. Aging professor. Hair loss. Too painful.
