During Which Our Heroine Fails to Note The Obvious

When I was younger I thought I was a fair judge of popular culture - the things that I thought were fairly cool also popped up on others' radar.

But there are three distinct times in my past where I have proven myself to be the most Rock Stupid Prognosticator on the planet. None of this has been made up and I hope I haven't even spared myself any skewering.

Picture It: University of Utah, August 1980

Scenario: Through family connections I was working as an intern/gofer/driver for a week at the Womens' Games, a good-sized tournament on the womens' tennis circuit, being held at the University of Utah. I had a great time driving players around, picking up tennis rackets at the airport, acting like a very important production assistant and snarfing up leftover appetizers in assorted hospitality suites. While there was short and grudging coverage by the sports desks of the major networks (scoff - womens' sports? - remember, this was '80), a brash new upstart, someone no one had even heard of, was there operating out of a RV transformed into a mini-studio, broadcasting all the games. Yes, that was ESPN, brand spanking new with barely a dime to rub together. During the course of the week, I got to know the ESPN guys well - to the point where their producer offered me a job as an assistant producer. I turned them down.

My Internal Dialogue: Nah, this will never fly. Who's going to want to watch a network that broadcasts nothing but sports? These guys will go broke in a year.

Picture It: Salt Lake City, some time in 1991.

Scenario: While a college student, I had met guy in his late 20's whom I was rather casually and sporadically dating. At the time he was working with Robert Redford at Sundance (then a small ski resort nestled in a sleepy Utah canyon), putting together the Sundance Film Institute - if I recall correctly, they were discussing the possibility of introducing a yearly film festival. The guy was sort of dull and more than a little "meh" so I dropped him after three months.

My Internal Dialogue: Maybe I should stay friends with this nice but not-for-me- guy, as he does know famous people, which might come in handy. But do that on the off-chance that anybody will ever go to Sundance (in Utah - blech!) to see films? As if that will ever happen!! No way! Good luck with that project, Guy!

Picture It: Early 1977

Scenario: I was at the movies with my siblings preparing to view some unforgettable, likely unwatchable and badly acted tripe. Up on the big screen scrolled a flashy trailer for a movie that would be opening in the summer. That movie was Star Wars. I turned to my sister and said "It looks dumb - I don't think I'll see that. I'll bet no one does."

My Internal Dialogue: Seriously - who's going to line up to see this? It's a Western in space. It will close in a week. Fruity.

So I'm conclusively a pretty poor judge at predicting what the general public will find shiny and irresistible.

But I can leave you with some tremendous advice - if I think something is stupid, it will likely make millions.