Welcome to Chicken Yoghurt’s second WWWWWH. Each week a blogger is interviewed according to the golden rules of journalism, the Six Ws: Who, What, Where, Why, When and… How. Think of it as waterboarding without all that unpleasant mock-drowning.
This week, the hood is pulled off to reveal the internet’s foremost lady of letters, Esther Wilberforce-Packard, illuminator of Topic Drift and Minneapolis’ very own Esther Wilberforce-Packard.
Who are you?
Already I’m uncomfortable with the tone of these questions. How much detail is appropriate, I wonder? Do you think Amelia Earhart perished in the crash, or do you think she was captured by Japanese fishermen? Personally, I think she survived the crash but died in a tree. “I’m tired of life on this island,” she told Fred Noonan. “I say, is there a sandwich in that tree?” It was a sandwich, but she couldn’t eat it. The anorexia got her in the end. Then came the carnivorous tree ants.What are you?
What am I what? What am I… doing? Wearing? Reading? Pfff. Nobody cares about that stuff. People are interested in one thing: real estate. It is as old as mankind, the love of real estate. And not just real estate; many people also love sport. My advice to you is simple: build your house on a tennis court.
Where are you?
I am in Uptown Minneapolis in Minnesota in America. I was about to type “United States,” but I don’t like to think of the states as united. Most of the states are a complete loss and contribute nothing to the general weal. Missouri doesn’t pull it’s weight, and that congresswoman from California scares me in my sleep. The only real states are Minnesota and Manitoba, and Manitoba doesn’t always count because it’s technically Canada. What I’m trying to say is that we all know the English drink too much.
When are you?
I’m usually early, but that’s because I walk very quickly. Some of my most intense anxiety occurs when I’m walking down the street at my usual top speed and some guy in front of me is walking only slightly slower than me. This means that I have to slow down and just let the man walk in front of me, which is impractical, or maintain my speed and pass him, but pass him at a slow rate, as he is also walking very quickly but not as quickly as me. Are you getting this? I must, by default, walk WITH the man for several paces! Intolerable intimacy, considering the circumstances.
Why are you?
Not sure. I don’t have an answer for this one. I just had an idea, however. Over the past year I’ve read several articles about the international hotel bedbug epidemic. I was worried that I’d never sleep in a hotel again. But here’s where my new idea comes in: don’t sleep in the hotel beds! It’s brilliant. Sleep on the desk. But what if your room has no desk? The bathtub will do. But you will have to bring your own tub cleaner, because they don’t clean the tub floor. They only clean the sides.
How are you?
Fine. I’m fine.
Much to ponder there, I think. Join us next week when our guest will be…
(Last week’s detainee can be found here.)