This American Chitty Chat — Gabbing with Ira Glass 

Yesterday I had the good fortune of chatting with my new best pal, the besuited, bespectacled Ira Glass of public radio's This American Life. I don't think he's aware that he's my new bestie, but no matter. Plenty of my besties don't know of their exalted status in my social orbit — Dolly Parton, Alan Rickman, everybody who's every been on America's Next Best Dance Crew.

Anyway, yesterday Ira called me up to gab and was all like "Um, like, uhhhhh....Hey, Lauren. Like, what's new and stuff?" And I was all like "Ira, what the H? You were supposed to hit me up like a hour ago to talk about your upcoming show in Burlington. Now you trying to call me late? Uh-uh. That ain't cool." And Ira was all like "Yo, uh, like, dawg, sorry about that. I was all editing some stories and crap about kids who lost their sweatshirts and cats stuck in trees and old ladies who don't wear underwear and junk like that. Uhhhhhh, like, sorry dude." And I was all like "I.R.A., listen. It's cool. I know you gotta make the mad skrilla writing stories for PBS and shiz. We good." And Ira was all like "Ummmm, uhhhhhhh, oh word. Thanks for understanding."

So yeah, we chatted for a good half an hour about his show and how awesome it is and how many awards it's won and stuff.  He kept trying to talk about "what makes a good story," and I just wanted to talk about myself and how I could get a piece on his show. Hey, Ira, I've won awards, too. Ever heard of the Suburban Newspapers of America Class E: Under 25,000 (daily) Awards? Yeah, 3rd place best feature 2003 — that was me.

But in all seriousness, Ira is a swell guy. He was very gracious and understanding of all of my dumb questions, like "So where do you get your story ideas?"*** and "Again, how can I get a piece on your show?" You can read all about Ira's take on the show and the fine art of storytelling in Wednesday's Seven Days. And after you read the interview, you can go see Ira live at the Flynn Theater on Sept. 26. If you don't do either, we won't be besties anymore.

*** I did not ask this question. This is the worst question to pose to a journalist. Generally, my answer to that question is "Your mom" because I'm classy like that.