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Sedaris story |
Wednesday, April 26, 2006 |
Okay, I once again missed a live David Sedaris reading. I'm sure it was all laughs and sighs and you-got-that-right-boy fun times. Don't rub it in.
Instead, I will tell you my personal Sedaris story. Feel free to live through me.
I was working at Borders one morning, and my general manager called to tell me to put all of Sedaris' books on a cart and wheel them to the front because he was coming in to sign them. I hurryingly snatched up every book from around the store and had the whole cart up in the cafe just in time to open the doors. And there he was. Promptly at 9 a.m. Fresh as a bathed seal. And smiling.
For some reason, I always imagine celebrities to be much taller than me, even authors. Where Sedaris towered over me with his storytelling, I looked down from a good five to six inches on him.
He was very nice and polite. I served him some coffee. He asked me to sit down with him as he signed all the gazillion books of his we had in stock. I never once saw him suffer from writer's cramp. If he did, he hid it like the pro he is.
He was sincere, and he even signed a copy of Naked specifically for me. He inscribed, "To Jason, I hope to read your poetry one day." Damn, I liked him before, but now I really liked him. He was one of the few authors to come through our store that really impressed me with his genuineness.
Poem of the Day for National Poetry Month "A Blessing" by James Wright
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota, Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass. And the eyes of those two Indian ponies Darken with kindness. They have come gladly out of the willows To welcome my friend and me. We step over the barbed wire into the pasture Where they have been grazing all day, alone. They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness That we have come. They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other. There is no loneliness like theirs. At home once more, they begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness. I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms, For she has walked over to me And nuzzled my left hand. She is black and white, Her mane falls wild on her forehead, And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist. Suddenly I realize That if I stepped out of my body I would break Into blossom.
Song of the Day "Going Under" by Surface |
posted by pimplomat @ 2:46 PM |
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1 Comments: |
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i missed him, too, but not on accident -- it cost a million-billion dollars (okay, maybe 50, but still). and sadly, i don't have a cool personal sedaris story to tide me over.
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i missed him, too, but not on accident -- it cost a million-billion dollars (okay, maybe 50, but still). and sadly, i don't have a cool personal sedaris story to tide me over.