That would be so incredibly boring for viewers that it wouldn’t even be ironically funny. Even people who are fans of mine would find nothing of interest in Historian Cribs. It’s not like I live in a big mansion with stripper poles in the rooms for when the ladies come over and go crazy. I life in a cozy little one-bedroom apartment that still has more room than I need, and it would take maybe three minutes at the most to take an exhaustive tour. And, even then, people would be checking out at the 45-second mark.
It’s silly to even think about how goofy and ridiculously pretentious it would be to do that with a straight face even if I WAS rich and famous and had a bitchin’ house. Doing the Cribs tour of where I live now would be even more ridiculous. Would I point to the chair and my desk and say, “Well, that’s where the magic happens”? The whole episode would consist of me answering the door, inviting the camera crew in, pointing at my LBJ FOR THE USA poster from 1964 hanging on the wall and then I’d just spend the rest of the segment saying, “Ummm…do you want to look at some more of my books?”
Historian Cribs would be cool for a wealthy, successful historian like David McCullough or Doris Kearns Goodwin because they probably have a bunch of badass mementos and I would imagine that they are the type of people who are lucky enough to have a study or library in their homes with custom bookshelves built into the wall and full of volumes. In my case, I’d have to figure out a way to make it seem like I’m a trendsetter for having over 200 books stacked in piles on the floor rather than admitting that I just haven’t bought three or four more bookshelves like I desperately need to do.
And now you definitely don’t need me to do Cribs because I pretty much just described everything in my apartment. Nobody is missing anything special, I guarantee that.