I've had it. It's not just my land line, but my cell and e-mail that have been overloaded with pleas from Conan O'Brien, Jimmy Kimmel, Jay Leno, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert begging me to appear on their shows.

There was a time I fantasized about appearing on The Tonight Show, but that was when Johnny Carson was the host, and I imagined him convulsing with laughter at my unexpectedly hilarious stand-up routine and spontaneously inviting me to a place of honor on his couch, which would lead to my becoming a regular and featured for decades to come on The Best of Carson.

Jay Leno doesn't hold the same allure for me, nor do these other guys, maybe because they're younger than I am. It's a profound--and not entirely thrilling--rite of passage when beauty pageant winners, doctors and talk show hosts are all younger than you. But that's not what's keeping me from returning their calls. I support the Writers Guild strike and will not break ranks even if the shows offer to send a car to pick me up.

I'll admit there was an initial flush to be on the receiving end of these desperate requests, which I interpreted to mean late night shows have finally heard how entertaining I can be when talking about blogging, the endless presidential campaign, and dealing with menopausal symptoms, but that faded when I learned everyone in my building has been approached along with my cousin Normy, who installs window treatments in a San Antonio suburb.

Get your TiVo's ready for the return of these shows.