It must be said

Those interviews I tend to plan extensively for and hope will turn out spectacular tend to blow up. About half the time, they're real stinkers. The interviewed acts like they're being grilled by the IRS about the money they gave their gay Canadian mistress.

On those interviews where I walk blindly into a wall of fog, unprepared and sweating out my incompetence, it's funny how it leads, only by accident, into interesting places. I get tiny bits of truth.

If I could be sure I'd get to go interesting places every time, I'd never bother with the homework.