Mad Atoms

I love Ambien. Or anything that prevents me from having to think about my life. So when I say something is better than Ambien, you better believe that this book is going to send you into a blissful, artificial, chemical-induced sleep.

Let me first comment on the fact that Barbara Walters’ name takes up two-thirds of the book cover. Bam! My eyes are already two-thirds shut. The publishers smartly decided to plaster her name on the cover, sending anyone who glances at the book halfway into a coma.

For me, her name instantly brings to mind memories of Thanksgivings at my grandmother’s house, eighty-five degree living rooms, and stories about hummingbird feeders.

Plus, her name is written in a soft gold. This color conjures up images of 20/20, where they’d light Barbara in a way that makes her look like she is aglow. Not in a toxic waste dump sort of a way, but more like the Pope, or butterscotch candies.

Then there’s the “Audition” title. I don’t know what that means but the thought of having to read four hundred pages about Barbara Walters’ life in order to find out is like a giant shot of morphine. Yes, please.

All of these elements indicate to me that that her memoir will span over a period of time beginning with her memories of the Civil War to her quarrels with Rosie on The View. Be warned Pfizer, there’s a new player on the field and she’s got the skills of a snake charmer.

So here’s my recommendation: if you’re having trouble sleeping, or feel anxious through out the day for no good reason, buy Audition. It’s legal, no prescription is needed, and you won’t have to hide it in your trunk when your family comes over.