Columnist Craig Wilson has over six million people who read his articles in USA Today each week.

Six.  Million.  People.

His readers pour over his innocuous tales of everyday life with relish.  Folks in the south sop him up with a biscuit.  People in the east can relate to his intellectual satire.  People in the north like his homespun attitude and carefree musings.  I’m not sure what the people in the west think … they can be a fickle lot.

Two years ago, when I met Wilson for the first time I tripped all over myself.  I ooohed and aaahed like most men do when meeting a professional athlete.  And while I could care less about any organized sport, I found Craig Wilson to be MY Brett Favre or, um, Pelé.   Or that guy named Stanley who keeps winning a cup.  The man has 80-90 lines available to him each week to write about anything he wants.

About.  Anything.  He.  Wants.

My feeble little mind cannot fathom having six million people read this blog.  I’m lucky to get a readership of 200 people.  (But I love you all.  Not as much as I love Craig Wilson, but whatever.)  The first blog I wrote about Craig has garnered more hits than any other thing I’ve ever written.  People searching on Yahoo or Google for his archived “Final Word” columns will stumble across my simplistic, rudimentary “Ode To Craig” page.  Thank God for that … it’s increased traffic by 14%.

This time when I met Craig, I acted like we were old chums.  Or worse –  peers.  Unfortunately, he remembered me.  “Aren’t you that guy from Kansas City?  Didn’t I call security on you?” he did not ask.  I lied and feigned like we had never met.

I’m sure Craig will become a lifelong pal.  He just doesn’t know it yet.  I just added him as a friend on Facebook.  And I plan on sending him this blog to peruse … right after I edit, re-edit, spell check and completely rewrite fourteen times.    I want Craig to get a kick out of me … just like I adore him.

And that, my friends, IS the final word.

You know the Erma Bombeck Writing Conference has gone mainstream when Mo Rocca does a story on it.  It will be featured on an upcoming episode of “CBS Sunday Morning”.  That means — I’m sorry to say — every white person 70+ years old will now know about it.  Watching CBS Sunday Morning is mandatory once you hit AARP age.

Rocca is a funny Mo … uh, Fo.  He’s sarcastic and snarky, but always with a twinkle in his eye.  You can tell he takes great delight in asking off-the-wall, quirky questions.   And he’s a phenomenal storyteller … often crafting intricate, humorous confections sprinkled with bon mots.

Mo was definitely in his element at the conference surrounded by other humorists and satirists.  None of them tried to trump his ace.  I think the authors realized they had met their match.

Every time Mo would walk around, he was just another face in the crowd.  Either the menopausal set doesn’t know who he is … or they don’t care.  I was a “Rocca Stalker”.  I introduced myself at lunch and batted my eyelashes in a veiled attempt to get on his good side.  I’m a firm believer that you can stand by funny people and glean insight in to their brilliance.  I call it gaining moxie by proxy.

When he interviewed Craig Wilson from USA Today, I ended up firmly planted in the background of the shot.  The producer walked up to me and asked me not to make any sudden or abrupt movements.  Looks like I picked a great week to give up epilepsy.  I listened to the Q&A between the two.  It was both catty and chatty.  I think he might be one of my favorite interviewers.  He asks one serious question followed by something completely absurd.  From what I can tell, Rocca never takes any potshots or hits below the belt.  That would be beneath him.

I’m always one to ask the inappropriate question or go for the jugular.  Maybe instead of seeing how low I can go … I should ask myself how Mo can I go.