about the St. Patrick's Day Uber ride

The driver spouted gibberish. Various directions. How could we trust him? We were in a drinking situation—pretty far along into it. But we had to trust someone at this point. We ended up within a mile of the house, which was good enough.

(posts) the poem "Sure"

Sure
 —Arlene Tribbia

I miss my brother sure
he drank Robitussin
washed down with beer
sure he smoked dope
& shot heroin
& went to prison
for selling to
an undercover cop

& sure he robbed
the town’s only hot dog stand,
Gino’s like I overheard
while I laid on my bed
staring up at the stars
under slanted curtains

& sure he used to
leave his two year old
son alone so he could
score on the street

but before all this
my brother sure
used to swing me up
onto his back, run
me around dizzy
through hallways and rooms
& we’d laugh & laugh
fall onto the bed finally
and he’d tickle me
to death sure

something about “Let's Explore Diabetes With Owls” by David Sedaris

My David Sedaris read-a-thon continued with Let's Explore Diabetes With Owls, an essay collection released in 2013. I enjoy reading Sedaris. I had been reading him on my commute and sometimes before bed or when I wake in the middle of the night. Those times flew by.

An acquaintance said she thinks Sedaris really loves people. I think people interest him, but I do not think he loves them. In a previous post I noted that I find his moments of mockery conspicuous. But maybe you can mock and love people.

My favorite essay in Owls is not a funny or poignant one: it is "Day In, Day Out" because, in it, Sedaris describes how he developed his writing habit and subject matter choices by keeping journals. I enjoy reading good writers talk about writing, and this essay can help aspiring professional and hobbyist writers.

One of my favorite funny parts of Owls comes in “A Friend in the Ghetto,” Sedaris’s telling of his attempt in ninth grade to forge a relationship with an overweight black girl. In this telling, he calls her Delicia. He was using Delicia to relieve the peer pressure he felt to have a girlfriend and to score cheap social-justice points. At one point, Sedaris wants to bring Delicia with him to church; his mother objects, so David accuses his mother of objecting because she fears having half-black grandchildren. His mom replies:

“That’s right,” she said. “I want you to marry someone exactly like me, with a big beige purse and lots of veins in her legs. In fact, why don’t I just divorce your father so the two of us can run off together?”

“You’re disgusting,” I told her. “I’ll never marry you. Never!” I left the room in a great, dramatic huff, thinking, Did I just refuse to marry my mother? and then, secretly, I’m free! The part of my plan that made old people uncomfortable, that exposed them for the bigots they were—and on a Sunday!—still appealed to me. But the mechanics of it would have been a pain. Buses wouldn’t be running, so someone would have to drive to the south side, pick up Delicia, and then come back across town. After I’d finished shocking everyone, I’d have to somehow get her home. I didn’t imagine her aunt had a car. My mother wasn’t going to drive us, so that just left my dad, who would certainly be watching football and wouldn’t leave his spot in front of the TV even if my date was white and offered to chip in for the gas. Surely something could be arranged, but it seemed easier to take the out that had just been handed to me and to say that our date was forbidden.

Love seemed all the sweeter when it was misunderstood, condemned by the outside world.

Later, Sedaris breaks the news to Delicia that his parents are prejudiced, and she seems undisturbed, saying only that it was okay. To which Sedaris responds:

“Well, no, actually, it’s not okay,” I told her. “Actually, it stinks.” I laid my hand over hers on the desktop and then looked down at it, thinking what a great poster this would make. “Togetherness,” it might read. I’d expected electricity to pass mutually between us, but all I really felt was self-conscious, and disappointed that more people weren’t looking on.

I wonder if this is more fiction than truth.

My other favorite funny part in Owls comes in “The Happy Place,” an essay about Sedaris getting a colonoscopy. For the procedure, he is given propofol, which gives him a sleepy sense of euphoria. He writes of the experience:

Never had I experienced such an all-encompassing sense of well-being. Everything was soft-edged and lovely. Everyone was magnificent. Perhaps if I still drank and took drugs I might not have felt the effects so strongly, but except for some Dilaudid I’d been given for a kidney stone back in 2009, I had been cruelly sober for thirteen years.

After the procedure, Sedaris writes of waking and finding a woman in his room.

“I’m going to need for you to pass some gas,” said the woman putting papers into envelopes. She spoke as if she were a teacher, and I was a second-grade student. “Do you think you can do that for me?”

“For you, anything.” And as I did as I was instructed, I realized it was no different than playing a wind instrument. There were other musicians behind other curtains, and I swear I could hear them chiming in, the group of us forming God’s own horn section.

Reviews of books by Sedaris are not hard to find, and some of them trace changes in his writing. I have found Sedaris to be pretty consistent from one book to the next. And this is the fourth book of his that I have read, following Me Talk Pretty One Day, Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, Calypso, and When You AreEngulfed in Flames (and not counting The Best of Me, which a best-of rather than a stand-alone collection).

fiction chapter 2B

I carried the dream with my living hands. Oh, fallen angel, change my dreams. I made the work of choices with my living hands. No better than my works, I am. I am cleansed of my times. How can I be better than my hands?

The Prince became a wizard, but the wizards, believing backwards, burned The Prince into the floor.

about the job fair

Garrett helped set up the eight-foot folding table they purchased with the company card at Walmart, and then Keith, the manager, erected the easels and foam boards, prominently displaying their company name, logo, and classy pictures of guests enjoying themselves on the property—a hotel with plentiful amenities and a small, outdoor water park. Garrett and Olivia, the two reliable members of Keith's front desk staff, arrayed brochures and applications on the table.

Keith reached into the banker's box with the supplies for the day and pulled out three pairs of dog-ear headbands. "Ha, here you go, guys. We're gonna wear these today." Keith put his on first. His dim smile endured even as he saw the flash of embarrassment streak across Garrett and Olivia's faces. "C'mon, it'll just be for fun, guys." Garrett and Olivia complied, timidly leaning toward Keith's wrung-out enthusiasm.

They took their seats at the table, and Keith stood by an easel to the right. The team all wore the red company polos. After only a few minutes' standing and waiting, Keith, in his late 40s, average height and reasonably fit, began shifting his weight from left to right and rocking back and forth from his toes to his heels. He lacked the self-awareness to see that this feeble pursuit of comfort made him appear restless, which would, in turn, make other people nervous.

Today was the day of the job fair, and this local leisure and hospitality business was accepting applications.

 

about the rush of confidence

President of the United States George W. Bush visited Ground Zero after 9/11, and his team arranged for him to speak while standing with rescue workers, firefighters, and police officers atop the rubble of the Twin Towers. Someone in the crowd yelled out, "We can't hear you!" President Bush produced the perfect response: "I can hear you! The rest of the world hears you, and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon!"

 

 

Notes: 

Bob Beckwith was the firefighter standing next to President Bush. Bob died earlier this month.

Link to segment: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x7OCgMPX2mE