Walking Home

2012-01-24T14:59:00.001-06:00

This ship is almost sea-worthy. We could launch it now, but there are some details that need tending to avoid taking on water and undermining her integrity.Soon.

2011-08-26T14:20:00.001-05:00

David Sedaris Knows Kindness to Strangers

2010-11-22T23:07:00.003-06:00

I've always loved David Sedaris, and after spending seven hours basking in his glory during his tour stop at Watermark Books and Cafe, I am deeply, madly, irrevocably in love with him.

I suppose the thing I love most about him is his ability to make us laugh at our beautifully flawed humanity. Many of his stories and jokes could be interpreted as mean spirited jabs if taken literally or too casually, or too seriously; you won't find any warming bastard-amber gel in the frame of his spotlight. He occasionally turns that glaring 750 watts of white light away from himself toward the audience. It's a zen like thing, where you have to sit with the discomfort and deal with it, but he's crazy cool enough reveal how ridiculously hilarious we are. I've seen reviews and heard a few people comment about a discomforting darkness in his latest book, Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk. I don't see that, the light of these stories is too bright and I'm basking in the way it illuminates all that is blemished; like the joy that comes from close ups of celebrities while watching the Academy Awards on a big screen high-definition television-all those beautiful people and their beautiful flaws exposed.

If you missed the reading, you missed a truly remarkable evening. His presentation was hilarious, he was warm and his reading was really more of a conversation, sharing his experiences like a good friend after dinner. Most impressive and even moving was how he engaged and made a meaningful connection with every person who waited in line to have him sign his books. He told jokes, asked personal questions, listened to jokes...He truly listened and was genuinely interested in every exchange- He Personalized every signature on every book -there were over 300 people at this reading.

I will never love another in just this way. In one the books that I bought to give a friend, he wrote, "...Your lovely girlfriend bedazzled me!"

I think David Sedaris loves me too.

Defensive Thriving

2010-10-24T09:38:00.007-05:00

Recognizing that all is not well, and life is not always a beautiful journey is the one truth that keeps me believing "Life is Beautiful." It is most often on the rare occasions when I feel I am at the top of my game, everyone loves me, and we live in a candy-coated sugar-shack of a world when I take off running toward the light, only to trip and tumble over some unseen reality. I fall so hard my heart implodes and my ego ends up with a nasty case of road rash. It's not that I expect the worst of the world, it's that I am preparing myself for the worst case scenario.

I find strength and comfort in Henry Rollins statement:

I don't believe in fate or destiny. I believe in various degrees of hatred, paranoia, and abandonment. However much of that gets heaped upon you doesn't matter - it's only a matter of how much you can take and what it does to you.

As one who is not naturally endowed with the Polly Anna prism view of life, I find this statement empowering.

I understand that perky and positive are wonderful and happiness is not overrated, however, in my world it is hard won with eyes wide open and my back to the wall.

You Will Understand When You Are the Parent

2009-12-19T08:57:00.003-06:00

Several times a week she came home with tall stacks of books from the library. She set one stack of slim picture books on the coffee table and carried the second into her bedroom to replace the hole in the folded laundry left behind from the previous weeks stack. Most likely she loaded the washing machine with an arm full from the mountain of fabric that renewed itself everyday without fail. Most likely she loaded the dish washer and set it to the heavy cycle to better soak the dried grit of yesterdays dinner. Most likely there was a conversation about the books on the coffee table or chores that needed tending, or when our father would be returning home. Most likely there were battles waged between my sisters over who did what to whom. Most likely her voiced raised a shrill and sorrowful plea for peace.

Most likely she brewed a pot of coffee, or opened a bottle of Tab before she shut the door behind her in her bedroom with the stacks of books that she would move from her dresser to her bed where she pulled the covers over her legs and read until she closed her eyes and drifted.

My Mother's Mouth

2009-12-12T12:34:00.008-06:00

She has a beautiful mouth. She wore waxy red lipstick anytime she stepped out the door. It was her only consistent act of vanity. Of course there were the regular home hair coloring rituals, but the lipstick was a daily do. With a scarf tied loosely under her chin, blue cat eye sunglasses, and her red lips my mother looked like a movie starlet. In the car she smiled into the rear view mirror and wiped off the red waxy smear from her teeth.

Ribbons and Need

2009-10-30T11:08:00.009-05:00

She was annoyed. The spirals of the telephone cord slithered and snaked against the floor and tangled with my legs as she pried my hands from her calves and pushed me off of her feet. She rubbed at the stains of my tears on her turquoise Capri's her voice tightened. The space between my fingers ached for want of the satin ribbons that she was tearing from the edges of my blanket, the same cool satin that I spent the greater part of my days weaving in and out of my chubby digits while I sucked my thumb. The calm that washed over me when I found this combination was soft and warm; my ballast. I choked on sobs finally throwing myself face first to the linoleum floor, exhausted and soothed by the waxy cool. She was talking about me. I watched her face sharpen when my thumb found my mouth and my fingers settled in twisting my hair into knots. Her lip curled and she glared the at me over the top of blue cat-eye glasses.