Next week, I’m interviewing Stephens alumna Alanna Nash.
And I’m absolutely terrified.
Now keep in mind, I’ve interviewed U.S. senators, governors, CEOs and some other people who would consider themselves pretty important. Granted, I’d get nervous sometimes, especially asking a question at a press conference with other reporters, but this is the first time I’ve been absolutely terrified to interview someone.
You see, Alanna Nash is a rock star reporter and biographer. She’s written award-winning novels and has contributed to the L.A. Times, Entertainment Weekly, the New York Times, Rolling Stone, Vanity Fair, I could go on.
And she’s been interviewed, too. A lot. Not only by reporters and bloggers across the country, every time I open an old Stephens yearbook or internal publication, there she is, having gracefully granted an interview to some poor PR person who thinks she’s being all clever because she’s interviewing Alanna Nash.
But I cannot wait to meet her. In my egotistical mind, I think we have a few minor things in common. Yes, I ended my reporting career after just 13 years and do not have my byline in any prestigious publication (sorry Tribune folks), but I said “minor.”
Like Jan. 8. That’s my birthday. It’s also Elvis’s birthday. And in Louisville, Jan. 8, 2012, was proclaimed Alanna Nash Day.
Seriously. She has her own day.
That’s because Nash is an expert on all things Elvis. She’s penned several award-winning books about him, his manager, his love life. (She’s also an expert on Dolly Parton and Jessica Savitch, the broadcast reporter who was featured in Up Close and Personal, that tear-jerker starring Robert Redford and Michelle Pfeiffer. Oh, and the movie was based on Nash’s book. )
You see why I’m terrified here?
And in, I suppose, her spare time, Nash even helped solve the identity of the mystery woman in the famous “kiss” photo with the King (this photo totally creeped me out as a kid). You can read about that here.
So if all of that wasn’t enough, I find out Nash won a date with … wait for it…
Davy Jones. As in Davy Jones. The Davy Jones I fawned over watching reruns of the Monkees on MTV. The Davy Jones I used to pretend was singing to me when his delicious English accent would come out of the speakers of my boom box. The Davy Jones I ditched a date to see in concert at Boonville Isle of Capri. (It was Valentine’s Day 2008, my date was late in picking me up so it was either wait and be late to Davy Jones’ concert or just leave without the date. I chose the latter).
In other words, MY Davy Jones.
In 1967, a 17-year-old Nash, a Marsha Brady look-alike, went on a date with the Davy Jones I had a mad crush on in 1987. Unfortunately for her and a dozen or so other teenage girls it was more like a group date, but still. It made for a hilarious piece Nash wrote for Rolling Stone.
Any way, Nash will be on campus for Celebrate Stephens alumnae weekend next weekend and she’s graciously agreed to carve out some time to talk to me.
My challenge? To not ask her the questions she’s been asked a gazillion times by reporters, bloggers and PR people everywhere.
Got any advice, Alanna Nash?