Not so ready for my Swanson close-up

And no, I’m not talking about Swanson TV dinners, I’m talking about me in front of a camera, channeling Gloria Swanson and repeatedly asking my darling husband Dan (an editing genius, I might add), “Are you sure I don’t look and sound like a dumb ass?”

I guess this is ultimately the next step, and I’m hoping you guys out in the interwebs will be patient with me while the camera becomes my friend — or perhaps frenemy — not quite sure exactly how this little rodeo is going to end.

These short vlogs serve as a supplementary catalyst to my column, The Main Ingredient, and basically bring the print recipe to life, showing you step-by-step, how it was made. 

So, without further ado, I plunge into this strange, yet wonderful cyberworld, joining scary monkeys jumping out of  trunks of cars and jack asses in wife beaters that seem to continually rack their balls — and for some reason, laugh about it.  

And meanwhile as I dramatically slur (drink in hand, of course), ”I’m ready for my close-up!” Andy Warhol rolls over in his grave.