On the week of April
2, 2000, David came to New York City to promote his new
movie Return To Me. Not
being one to let opportunities go by, I took an extra
day off from work and planned my itinerary -- I would
hop on the train and stand on line outside the TV
studios, hoping for standby tickets to one of the
many talk shows he was doing here.
But on Wednesday
morning, in a moment of sheer blinding inspiration, I
went into my supervisor's office and grabbed his
phone to call the Howard Stern radio show, where
David would be doing an interview on Thursday
morning.
"Stern
Show," said the assistant who answered the
phone. "What can we do for you?"
"Let me come
right to the point," I said. "Like half the
rest of the free world, I want something from
you."
"Stone Temple
Pilots tickets, right?"
"Heck no. I want
to go on the air with David Duchovny tomorrow."
"Oh!" he
said. "You want to go on the air with Duchovny?
Why?"
"Because I have a
great fan website," I answered, and added, for
the piece de resistance, "and I'm a
witch."
"You're a witch?"
That did the trick. "Let me give you the number
for Howard's direct line. Call back tomorrow morning
between six and six-thirty and talk to Howard about
it."
Teresa Bishop has
called me, and not without reason, the "Great
Goddess of Audacity"...
* * * * *
On Thursday morning I
got up at an unmentionable, ungodly hour, and was on
the 5:27 train. "Plan A" was to wrangle my
way onto Howard's show, and if that didn't work,
there would still be time for "Plan B" --
to go look for those tickets.
I was Prepared. I had
my camera, extra film, three of the X-F episode guide
books, and print copies of three of my fanfics --
"Clair de Lune," "Pretty Words,"
and "Carnival" -- in a little binder to
give to David if I could. And I had worn a long black
dress and some Wiccan-type jewelry, knowing I'd need
it if I got on the radio show. (Those of you who live
in New York, or who hear the show on its syndicated
stations around the country, know about Howard's
penchant for making nubile young female guests romp
around naked in the studio. Kids, I was pushing forty
and I'm a size fourteen, and I was not about
to take off my clothes. I needed a different gig!)
The train arrived at
Penn Station at 6:14. Armed with a prepaid phone card
-- I still lived in the stone age, and didn't yet have a
cell phone -- I went directly to the bank of pay
phones and called Howard's studio. I was put on hold.
When Howard picked up, we were on the air.
"Here is Hillary,
who thinks I should let her come up here and meet
David Duchovny," he said by way of introduction.
"What makes you so special, that I should have
you in here? What do you look like? Are you
hot?"
"I have a great
fan website," I began.
"Oh, so you're
one of those psychos on the Internet, who has no life
and nothing else to do with her time." Typical
Howard -- I had expected as much.
"And I'm a
witch."
That set him right
off. "Oh, and now you're a witch. I
know all about you wacky broads. You're single,
aren't you?"
"Yes..." I
heard everyone in the studio start snickering in the
background.
"That's right. No
husband, no kids; you crazy broads decide you have to
be witches to make yourselves think you've
got a life. Now if I let you in here to meet David
Duchovny, you'll say it was because of your special
witchy powers. What are you going to do, cast a love
spell on him? Do you think he's gonna run off with
you the minute he sees you?"
"No, of course
not," I said. "I wouldn't cast a spell on
-- "
"Oh, no, Howard,
she wouldn't cast a spell on him,"
Howard's sidekick Robin Quivers interjected
sarcastically. "She's a white
witch."
"Now, on the
other line, I have another chick who wants to meet
him. I think I'll talk to her and decide which one of
these crazy broads I'll let in here. Hello, Tara? Why
should I let you in here to meet David
Duchovny?"
"Hi,
Howard," I heard her say. "Um -- because I
really like him?"
"Well, how old
are you? What do you look like? Are you hot?
Will you get naked?"
"I'm cute,"
Tara said a little tentatively.
"Where are
you?" Howard demanded.
"I'm downstairs.
I'm in the lobby of the building. You have to let me
in, Howard. I really want to meet him."
"You know,"
Howard said suddenly, "I think I'll have both
of these broads come in here. I want to see what they
look like. Stay on the line, broads!"
That was it. Yes! I
was in!
* * * * *
An hour later Tara and
I were shown into the air studio and went live on the
radio. After the requisite pop-psychoanalysis and
assorted offensive comments, Howard got down to
business.
"Now," he
said, coming out from behind the console, "since
you two girls say you want to meet David Duchovny so
much, you'll have to earn it. You have a choice. You
can either let me spank your bare ass with this
rubber chicken..."
I might be able to
live with that, I thought.
"... or you can
take off your top, let me spread mayonnaise all over
your breasts, and then we'll throw slices of bologna
at them, so they stick to you."
No way. The
rubber chicken was sounding mighty good at that
point!
"I don't care who
does which, but I have to see 'em both." Howard
pointed one long finger at Tara. "You pick
first!"
I was doomed! Why,
why, why, would anyone pick the mayo???
But Tara, Goddess
bless her little heart, deliberated for a moment and
then said, "Well, it's against my moral beliefs,
because I'm a vegetarian, but I'll take the
bologna."
"I knew she
wouldn't drop trou," Jackie the Joke Man said
from behind his console.
"You first,
witch," Howard said, brandishing the rubber
chicken.
I wasn't about to pull
down those nice opaque black pantyhose unless they
really pushed the point. I just said, "Bring it
on!" and flipped up my skirt and bent over. A
howl went up from every man in the studio.
"Are those
pantyhose?" Howard yelled. "Those are
pantyhose!"
"Yes, they're
pantyhose!" I yelled right back. And I think
that right about then, being a size fourteen was a good
thing, because Howard seemed to decide he preferred
my butt with the pantyhose on it!
Smack! Smack!
Yes, there I was, live on a nationally syndicated
radio show, being filmed for broadcast on the E!
Cable Television Network... being spanked with a
rubber chicken. Well, even before this, nobody who
knows me would ever have said that dignity is my
strongest suit...
Tara very
matter-of-factly unfastened her halter top, and
Howard really, truly brought out a jar of Hellman's
and a rubber spatula. Tara didn't so much as flinch
while she was being pelted with sliced bologna. When
some of the slices missed and came past her toward
me, I picked them up and flung them back at Howard.
"Well, girls,
since both of you let me publicly humiliate you, I
will keep my promise and let you meet David,"
Howard said magnanimously as he went back to his
console. "Let's go to break while Tara cleans
herself up, and when we come back, we'll talk to our
guest, David Duchovny!"
* * * * *
Tara and I were given
small portable headsets to wear so that we could hear
the sound from the studio mixing board. We stood in
the hallway just outside the air studio, listening to
David and Howard, while we waited to be called in.
Finally we heard
Howard say, "Let these two women meet you,"
and Howard's assistant K.C. ushered us into the
studio and showed us where to stand. We were at the
rear of the room, toward the left; Howard's console
was in front of us, about ten feet away, and David
was sitting on the couch to its right. Interestingly,
he wasn't fidgety in the radio studio, as he is on
the TV talk shows. He was just parked on the sofa,
looking right at home.
Don't even ask me to
explain why I wasn't nervous, but there you are: I
wasn't. I was having the time of my life!
"These two women
suffered humiliation..." Howard began.
"They are in love
with you," Robin added helpfully.
"They are in love
with you," Howard agreed.
David looked over at
the two of us. "I would like to apologize for
what you had to go through to do this," he said.
"Well, you had
nothing to do with it," Howard pointed out.
David went on,
"There's no way that I can actually live up to
being hit by a rubber chicken."
"The rubber
chicken was easy," I started to say, remembering
the alternative, but Howard, the King of All Media,
was holding court.
"Now, this woman
is a witch," Howard began. "She wanted to
meet you. I beat -- "
"Is that a
Princeton yearbook?" David interrupted, seeing
the book Tara was holding. "Oh, my God."
"Yes, it
is," Tara laughed.
"I beat -- "
Howard tried to go on; then he went with the flow.
"Now, Tara, you are holding what, a Princeton
yearbook?"
"Is that David's
year?" Robin asked.
"Yeah,
eighty-two," Tara answered.
"Eighteen-eighty-two,"
David said.
"And you wanted
to meet him," Howard rolled on. "You went
through having mayonnaise spread on your chest --
"
David cut him off.
"What are their names?"
"Tara,"
Howard said, "and the witch."
"Hillary," I
supplied.
"Hillary the
witch," said Howard.
"Wicca,"
David corrected him.
"Wicca,"
Howard repeated. "Yeah." He looked at me
and gestured toward David. "He goofs on that
too, believe me."
"Hillary was a
good sport," David said.
"Well, they were
both good sports," Howard admitted.
"Hillary, I spanked you with a rubber chicken; I
know that had to be humiliating. I felt bad."
"Hillary has the
fan site on the web, on the Internet," Robin
pointed out.
Howard turned toward
Tara and me. "Now, how in love with David --
Tell David Duchovny whatever you want; you went
through humiliation to get in here..."
"Now wait a
minute," David interrupted. "What do I have
to do to get, you know -- do you want to hit me with
anything?"
"No, you don't
have to do a thing," Howard reassured him.
It was more than I
could resist. "Can I hit you with the
rubber chicken?" I asked David. Jackie guffawed
at the far end of the studio.
"He'd do it,
believe me," Howard said.
"Maybe
later," David replied.
"Okay," I
said. Wow! I could actually talk to
him. This was already even more fun than I'd
expected!
"What do you
have, a website?" Howard asked me. "You sit
on the Internet and you what? You have pictures of
David Duchovny?"
"No, I don't
really do the pictures and the video kind of
thing," I explained. "I have fan fiction; I
have images, wallpapers, postcards..."
"What is fan
fiction?" Robin asked. "She keeps
throwing out these terms."
"I don't
know," David said.
I stared at him.
"You don't know," I said
teasingly, thinking he must be kidding. I had thought
he would at least have heard of it, even if
he'd never read any. It was impossible to tell from
his poker face whether he meant it or not.
"I've never been
on the Internet," he protested.
"Is that
true?" Howard asked.
David shook his head.
"Not one time."
Howard turned toward
him. "Really. You're not curious?"
"No, I think, uh,
you know... you're just going to run into something
that's going to humiliate you."
Howard laughed.
"Believe me. You will." He turned back
toward me. "What is fan fiction, for David
Duchovny?"
I felt like an
ambassador of my tribe, explaining our native customs
to the foreign explorers. These are the ways of
our people, O strangers! "Fan
fiction is short stories, novels, sometimes poetry,
that's written using characters from television and
movies."
"So it's not
David Duchovny -- it's his character from X-Files,"
Howard said, understanding.
"Oh, yeah, I
write Mulder and Scully," I answered, adding,
maybe just a little disdainfully, "I don't write
actorfic."
"Really,"
Howard drawled, patently amused. "Actor-fic."
Fred, the special effects man, played the sound
effect of a chiming cuckoo clock in the background.
"Oh,
please," Robin exclaimed. "Be careful with
your language!"
"So you're really
in love with this guy, is that what you are here to
say?" Howard asked me.
"No," David
cut in, "it sounds like she's in love with
Mulder to me."
How many times have I
described myself as being more of a Mulderist rather
than a Duchovnyist? He had me pegged. I was
surprised enough to answer, "Thank you, that's
exactly it!"
"Okay, well, you
can have him," David quipped.
"Well, you find
him attractive, don't you?" Howard scoffed.
"There's a reason you're in love."
"Well, I mean --
he's Mulder, and Mulder's him, but not..."
I gestured helplessly toward David. "He knows
what I mean."
"She has a firm
grasp on reality," David observed, but not
unkindly.
"Let me ask you a
question," Robin began. "Has she ever
closed her eyes..."
"And?" I
asked when she paused.
"And," she
went on, her voice suggestive, "had Mulder
visit?"
Howard had to get
involved then. "Yeah. When you're rubbing
yourself?" He phrases things so... delicately.
"Robin, have you?"
David asked quickly -- and maybe it was my
imagination, but he seemed to be trying to deflect
the question away from me.
She laughed nervously.
"Let's not talk about that!"
"Oh yeah, she
has," Howard said gleefully. "You have,
actually, haven't you?"
"I might
have," she admitted.
"Robin, the fact
that you like the show, and like me, has been a
source of great comfort to me over the years,"
David deadpanned.
"Oh, I'm glad,
I'm glad," she trilled.
"Hmm. Yeah,"
Howard muttered, leaning forward against the console
toward David, chin in hand.
"Howard --
Howard," David said, "Can you look the
other way while I'm trying to -- "
"Yeah, go ahead.
I don't care." Chuckles went up all around the
studio. "Do what you want."
"Just look the
other way," David asked again.
"I'm looking
the other way."
"You're cramping
me," David complained.
Robin was laughing.
Howard was looking the other way, all right -- right
back at me. He pointed at me and went in for
the kill. "Now, what do you do? Do you rub
yourself to David Duchovny's image?"
"Wow," David said.
Howard was relentless.
"Seriously, have you ever thought about making
love with him?"
"Tell the truth!" cried
Robin, who'd started this whole mess.
"Jeez," Fred muttered in
the background.
I hesitated. Someone at the back of
the studio said, "That's a yes!" And
honestly, the answer was 'no,' but only on a
technicality -- and David had only moments ago
grasped the concept of fanfic; it was a cinch the
poor man wasn't ready to learn about MulderClones.
David must have seen the little
wheels turning in my head. "Wow," he said
wonderingly, his expression akin to Mulder's 'panic
face.' "She's really going to tell..."
I took the plunge. "Not David,"
I said, before he could finish. "Mulder."
"I said Mulder," Robin
fairly crowed.
"To Mulder. Ah. You have,"
Howard repeated.
What the hell, I thought.
"Yeah. Mulder. I have."
Howard nodded knowingly.
"Really."
"Yeah."
"That is so sad," Howard
pronounced. Robin laughed aloud again, and so did I
-- at this point, what else was there left to do?
Fred played the buzzing sound effect
meant to be a vibrator. David looked around. "Is
that her shaving?" he asked.
"Yeah. All right," Howard
said, mercifully finished with me. "And you
are such a fan, Tara, that you have his
yearbook?"
"Yeah," she answered,
"it was a Christmas-slash-Hanukkah present from
one of my friends."
"Can I ask you a question?"
David said. "Is that bought from somebody who
actually was at Princeton, or can you actually
purchase those -- like, from Ebay?"
"I don't know," Tara
replied. "I think he got it off of Ebay. He
wouldn't tell me how he got it."
"I think Ebay should just be
thrown in jail," David opined. "The whole
thing. I mean..."
"Me too," Howard agreed.
Robin seemed surprised. "But
why?"
"Selling... yearbooks?"
David went on. "It's like selling somebody
else's Heisman trophy."
"Yeah, but it was probably
somebody from your class who sold it," Robin
pointed out.
Howard turned back to Tara.
"Now, wait. You are such a fan of David
Duchovny's -- I mean, you would like to make love to
him. Right?"
Finding herself in the hot seat, Tara
shrugged and half-chuckled.
"No, be honest," Howard
continued. "I mean, nobody has mayonnaise spread
on their boobs -- "
"You have to know
somebody before you make love to them," Tara
said emphatically. "I'm not going to -- "
"Oh, right,"
Howard groaned disgustedly. "Oh, that's right. I
forgot! I'm not a girl!"
David leaned forward. "You know
what I'm -- " he started to say, but couldn't
break in.
"This is the guy she fantasizes
about," Robin explained. "And when she
fantasizes, she makes up a whole personality."
"You know -- " David began
again, but this time Howard cut him off.
"Do you realize that I don't
have to know anybody to make love to
them?" Howard exclaimed. "I prefer
not to know them!"
David kept trying. "I'm proud
that these two women are intelligent," he
finally said, "and are answering the questions.
Really. I am so proud of that."
"Please." Howard waved a
hand dismissively. "They'd go in the bathroom
right now and give you oral sex, I
believe." He turned back to Tara. "So wait
a second. So you bought the yearbook why? Because
you're a David Duchovny fan, or a Mulder fan?"
"I'm a David Duchovny fan. This
was a gift, though."
"I think that they should
wrestle,then," David said. "The Mulder fan
against the Duchovny fan."
"I want to know how big a fan
she is," Robin said. "What else has David
done?"
Tara smiled and began reeling off the
list of titles. "He's done Kalifornia, The
Rapture..."
"That's enough. I love this
woman," David said.
"Julia Has Two Lovers, Red
Shoe Diaries, Twin Peaks..."
"Yeah!" David enthused.
"She's right."
"Wow. You're in love with him.
He's your kind of man," Howard said.
"Yes," Tara agreed.
"He's the look you like,"
Robin added.
"Yes," she said again,
grinning.
"Go out and find someone who
looks like that," Howard scoffed.
"Yeah, good luck," Robin
chimed in.
"You better go to
Hollywood," Howard went on. "You don't find
anybody that looks like that."
"Eleventh Street and Second
Avenue," David corrected him. "That's what
they all look like down there."
Howard, apparently having had enough
now of Tara and me, turned back to David. "Is it
true you were once JFK Jr.'s roommate or something on
a class trip?"
"Oh yeah, on a class
trip..."
Tara and I watched the rest of the
interview, only being called upon again for a comment
or two while Howard was taking phone calls from
listeners -- including one guy who swore up and down
he'd seen David smoking a joint in the limo on the
way over to Howard's show.
Apparently our 'fifteen minutes of
fame' were over... or then again, maybe not. Howard
asked David about his daughter, and then asked him,
"Will you let her see your penis?"
"Huh?" David asked,
apparently startled.
"Will you let your one-year-old
daughter see your penis?"
"Um... what do you mean, 'let
her'?"
"It's gonna be an issue. The
kids will ask to see your penis."
David looked puzzled. "They
will?"
"Yeah. Will you show them your
penis?" Howard demanded.
David stalled for a minute, bantering
with Howard and Robin to the accompaniment of Fred's
sound effects -- rattlesnakes and zippers, this time.
Eventually Howard asked, "So you haven't thought
that through yet?"
"Uh, no, I, uh -- it's the first
time I've ever heard..."
"You could let it --" I
began.
"What is it, girls?" Howard
asked, turning to us again. "Do you want to say
anything to David?"
"I was just going to say,"
I replied, "you can let it talk to her in that
little falsetto voice..."
David grinned. Howard looked from me
to him and back again. "Oh, she's referring to
something I did on Leno last week," David
explained as Robin laughed. Howard mustn't have seen
it, because he didn't seem to get the joke!
"Is that right. Well, girls,
anything you want to say to David? You want to
profess your love for him? This is it, because --
"
"This is your chance!"
Robin sang out from her little booth off to our
right.
"This is your chance,"
Howard repeated. "Go ahead, Tara."
"Yeah," David added, "
'Cause I've got a limo waiting, and another
blunt!"
"Right!" Howard said as
Robin and Jackie laughed loudly. "He's got to go
get high. Any of you want to offer him fellatio?
Whatever you want to do, go ahead."
"No, I don't want to do
that," I said. I turned toward David. "I
just want to say I've enjoyed your work all these
years on The X-Files, and thanks."
"Thank you," David nodded.
"Hmmm," Howard mused.
"Tara?"
"Are you all broken up that it
might be ending?" Robin asked me.
"Yes and no," I replied,
truthfully. "I'm a little -- "
"Yeah, you don't look like you
can handle it," Howard said, laughing.
I grinned. "No, I can handle
it," I assured him. "I'll just write my own
episodes!"
"You look a little unstable,
like you might go off the deep end," Howard
laughingly persisted.
"No, really," I went on,
explaining. "The way they've been wrapping up
the mytharc this year, I don't really see where they
can take it after this. They've done the Samantha
thing, they've..."
I looked over at David, whose
eyebrows were distinctly approaching his hairline at
this point. "All right, all right," Howard
said, uninterested in the finer points of Philedom.
"Tara, do you want to say something to
David?"
"Just the same," she
replied, and addressed David. "I love your work
acting and directing, with the episodes..."
"Did you want me to sign that
for you?" David asked, indicating the Princeton
yearbook.
"Yeah, if you could," Tara
nodded, smiling.
"Sure," he said.
"All right, in a minute,"
Howard said, and added conversationally, "Would
you like to see his penis? ... Would you girls like
to?"
( I thought of the pictures from a
certain early David film that are out here on the
'net, but decided I'd better not say I already had
seen it... )
"I'd like a hug, if I
could," Tara offered instead.
"A hug," Howard
said, sounding disappointed. "In place of
a..."
"He's not going to touch
you!" Robin exclaimed in mock outrage.
"He's a big star!"
"You can have a hug," David
said. He looked over at Robin. "I'll hug
her!"
"Oh yeah," said Howard.
"He'll do what he did to Minnie Driver. He'll
take you to the movies."
"All right," Tara said
agreeably.
"All right!" Howard said.
More banter ensued then, this time centering around
the fact that Robin hadn't seen The Unnatural,
and about how she'd been 'spooked' by an encounter
with Chris Carter while she was in California once.
There was one last, incredibly rude phone caller, and
Howard joked, "That was Chris Carter, by the
way!"
Finally Howard wrapped it up, plugged
Return To Me one last time, thanked Tara and
me, and went to break.
* * * * *
Tara and I were led back into the
hallway while David did the meet-and-greet thing with
everyone in the studio during the break. The two
interns with the hand-held cameras who'd shadowed us
almost since the moment we'd walked into the radio
station followed us again, and we found ourselves
doing the little post-interview that they always use
on the E! show.
"Was it worth it, girls? Was it
everything you expected?"
And then some, I thought,
remembering the question about the
"m-word." Oh, well -- it was no scarier
than what David himself had said about it in that
Playboy interview a few years back. "It was
great. It was wonderful," I said cheerfully.
"It was definitely worth
it," Tara agreed.
"And would you like to take this
opportunity to thank Howard?" one of the young
men suggested.
"Oh, sure," I said.
"He's the man. I've said it before, and I'll say
it again -- Howard is the man!"
We were shown into the smaller
engineering room, a few doors down from the main
studio, where we'd left our things. I got out my
camera and my books and my little binder of fic, and
Tara and I swapped e-mail addresses.
Through the glass panel in the door I
could see David doing his own post-interview with the
two cameramen. When they seemed to be done I opened
the door and stuck my head out. "Hey,
David," I said, and he turned toward me.
"There you are," he said,
smiling, and walked into the room. He held out his
hand to me and I laid my own into it. As he shook my
hand, he met my eyes and said, "You were really
smart to wear pantyhose here today."
Hello? I am standing here, my hand
clasped in David Duchovny's, and we are discussing...
my underwear. What's wrong with this picture? It was
deliciously absurd. I laughed a little. "It was
cold outside this morning when I went out," I
shrugged.
He was taller, and broader across the
shoulders, than I'd really realized; I was looking
further up at him than I'd expected to have to. He
has an effortless, imposing physical presence; he
seemed to fill up the room just by standing in it.
And it isn't the makeup, or the lighting, or any
trick of the X-Files camera crew -- he is
truly just as handsome in 'real life.'
David turned to Tara and shook her
hand. "He was hard on you girls," he said.
"I wouldn't have done that to meet me."
He signed Tara's yearbook 'Thank you
for humiliating yourself for me.'
He signed my book with my name and
his signature. His people were peering into the room,
glancing pointedly at their watches. I was holding
the other two books, and I said, "I don't know
if you have time to get into all this..."
"No, of course," he said,
reaching for them. "What are the other
names?"
When he finished and handed them back
to me, I held out the binder with my three stories in
it. "These are a few of my stories I brought for
you," I explained.
"Thank you," he said,
plainly surprised. "That was so nice of
you."
He posed for a picture with each of
us. Then, "David," a man said from the
doorway, "it's nine o'clock..."
"Gotta go, girls," David
said. "Let me give you your hugs." A quick
squeeze for each of us, and then he said,
"Thanks for coming up. Take care!"
"Thank you! You too!" we
both said, and watched him walk away.
* * * * *
I had said all along that I would be
completely calm throughout, and that when I got back
into my car would be when I started to scream. But I
really didn't do anything like that till six-thirty
that evening when I saw the pictures at my friend
Alison's camera store. Somehow, it had been like
taking some kind of a trip into another world. Seeing
the picture made it real. Then, I did jump
up and down and squeal!
I got home at half past seven, and it
literally took me three hours to answer all the
e-mail that had come in. It turned out my
cyber-friend Dawn, 'Sister Moon,' had been wearing
her Walkman while on line to get standby tickets for
Conan O'Brien, and that she'd been doing the
play-by-play of the broadcast as it happened! My
fifteen minutes of fame turned out to be more like
half an hour.
Well, folks, I can tell you with
confidence: David knows now that we're out here,
writing fic, and he has some that he can read for
himself! (And he has my site addy, so he can come
back for more if he likes what he sees... heh, heh!)
I have been truly moved at the great number of
messages I've received from people who said that they
were fans of mine and were glad that I had been the
one to give him fanfic to read. It's made my sense of
belonging to a family out here that much stronger,
and that's just as nice a feeling as having met David
was.
Yeah. I'd have to say it was
definitely worth the rubber chicken.
Read the
complete transcript of David's interview at Haven
for the FBI's Most Unwanted
Listen
to the interview on RealAudio at DuchovnyNet
See Tara's
picture with David at her home page
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