A Delightful Career: Talking to Strangers

Everyone has a story — several of them, usually. I know this because I’ve been interviewing people ever since I was a reporter for the Plymouth Rock, my junior high school newspaper, some 50 years ago. Here’s a photo of the staff. (That's me in the middle!)

Just this morning, I interviewed the founder of a handful of circus schools who still performs at 52, a sculptor who has worked on more than 70 large-scale public art projects across the country and an artist who has taught painting for over 30 years. Tomorrow, I’m interviewing another painter, a cheesemaker and a farmer who teaches the homesteading arts.

In between, I’ve interviewed such luminaries as Robert Bakker, Honi Coles, Tim Curry, Harvey Fierstein, Betty Friedan, Savion Glover, Vadim Gluzman, Jane Goodall, Ricky Jay, Erica Jong, Josh Kornbluth, Rocco Landesman, Judith Lasater, Steve Leatherwood, Peter Max, Donna McKechnie, Roger Payne, Louise Penny, George Plimpton, Phil Rosenthal, George Schaller, Gloria Steinem, Twyla Tharp, Tommy Tune, Diana Vreeland, Hal Whitehead and Alex Winter. 

For countless articles on as many topics, I've listened to the stories of home cooks, Broadway stars, whale scientists, Holocaust survivors, book authors, dancers, medical researchers, famous chefs, the founder of Allbirds shoes, body builder title-holders, world-class musicians, healthcare professionals, fiber artists and the fellow who designed the title character for “Gremlins.” 

I’ve taken notes in interviews with museum curators, TV stars, an astrophysicist, poets, a community activist, playwrights, a 99-year-old piano student, cancer survivors, national park rangers, many a psychologist, yoga instructors (on land and in water), a glass blower, a New York producer, bar owners, chocolate manufacturers, a monologist, restaurant owners, massage therapists and a Buddhist nun. 

Because I like people — and because I hold informal conversations, rather than conduct structured interviews — most of these encounters have been great fun. Sometimes, the relationships my subjects and I establish last beyond the allotted time spent on the interview. 

After a rowdy interview over lunch, Joel Grey invited me to see him in “Cabaret” a second time and then join him for dinner. Weeks later, he mailed ginkgo leaves he collected for me in Central Park. After my phone interview with Lily Tomlin, she suggested we meet for a quick hug later in the parking lot at the venue where she was speaking. And as a splendid afternoon with Jerry Mathers wound down, the photographer and I invited him to come back to the newsroom with us so our co-workers could meet The Beaver. 

Not every interview has gone smoothly. One famous dancer responded to every question I asked with just one or two words, and declined to elaborate on any topic. When an interview with a TV star from a popular show revealed his side hustle was as a slum landlord — and he was proud of that — I cut the interview short. Another conversation ended abruptly after 14 minutes, because that was all the time the famous fellow’s agent said he could spare. (I got a story out of it anyway!)

Sometimes, people who agree to be interviewed tell me tales they should keep to themselves, and sometimes, when I have reported what they said, they’ve tried to get me fired. (They have failed.) A haughty restaurant owner told me that he didn’t want customers 40 or older in his place because “they don’t know anything about food.” Another owner revealed he offered different menus to people he recognized from those menus handed to strangers.

Most of my interviews involve setting up mutually convenient times to talk, but editors have sent me to malls, community events and even street corners to pester unsuspecting members of the public with questions. I’ve polled people on whether it’s okay to wear white after Labor Day, whether they do or do not watch political conventions on television (and why) and whether they prefer plastic shopping bags or paper. Talking to strangers has been part of my job for a long time — no wonder I do it all the time, even when I'm not working. 

At some point over the years, I came up with the perfect final question for many an interview, one that sometimes reframes much of what came before and often garners unexpected gems. I ask: “What else would you like for me to know?”  

I know this: I learn so very much as I listen to people’s stories, and then I have the privilege of writing articles about their jobs, their lives, their hopes and dreams. What a gift! Gotta run now — it’s time to prep for the first of tomorrow’s interviews.