TAKING A BREAK FROM MY GRAND ADVENTURE IN ORDER TO WRITE:

"ON BEING A JERK—AN APOLOGY TO CATHERINE ST. LOUIS"

Yesterday, late in the afternoon, I had a meeting with my agent and friend Tom Connor to help him with a book he’s pitching. Before he arrived, I’d been perusing photos of Baghdad—and had just made a print of me taken in one of Saddam’s weekend palaces sitting on his bed. Since returning from this trip, I’ve been full of myself to the point of bursting! It’s a very uncomfortable feeling for me, so I’ve been dealing with it by attending extra 12-Step meetings and "telling on myself" as they say there.

Yesterday at a lunch meeting, I identified myself as "an egomaniac with low self esteem," which really is the perfect handle for me these days. But, obviously, even telling on myself wasn’t enough of a cure for me.

When Tom arrived and I showed him the photo, he immediately said, send it to the New York Times for "What They Were thinking." So I did. I sent it to Catherine St. Louis, an editor for the Sunday Magazine, who had I met briefly when I submitted my photos of the World Trade Center disaster shortly after 9/11. She was a very nice person and receptive to new ideas so I saved her email address in my online address book.

While Tom sat beside my desk, I sent off a jpeg of the photo of me. Then, after we concluded our business and he left, I checked my email. There was a reply fm Catherine: who is on the bed? i.e. what's the story? what would we get that guy talking about? Csl

Needless to say, I was excited. Thrilled is more like it. So I rifled a reply off to Tom for him to read upon his return home: Tom--Okay--so HOW THE FUCK do I respond to THIS?!!! Tell me, Coach! Tony

It was only seconds before I realized that I hadn’t bothered to type in Tom’s email address. Oh my God—I realized that I’d hit "Reply" and sent the message to Catherine. It takes years to create a relationship, but only seconds, when acting like a jerk, to screw one up. I am very good at this. Not only was the message sent to an editor at the New York Times, but to a nice person, as well. I really try—I really do—to be kind and respectful to people (at least when I’m conscious).

So I quickly sent her an apology—even before I got the following message back: I can pretty much guarantee that you didn't mean to send this to me - considering I'm not TOM and I don't take kindly to swearing. csl

That’s the whole of it. What I said in my apology to Catherine is not important. Whatever it was, it felt hollow. She had seen the real Tony Anthony for who he was—an egomaniac with low self-esteem. My message to Tom was a portrait of me flying high. And, as perfect as it always is, God shot me down—right out of the sky!

To make a fun of it—perhaps I landed where this whole incident began—right on Saddam’s bed!

So Catherine—I’m sorry for the language I used. You experienced me at my worst. As to "what would we get that guy talking about?" Well, he just said it.

Posted by Tony at May 24, 2003 11:16 AM