It was a delectable treat to attend David Sedaris' show last night at the State Theater. Big thanks to Muffin (Crumb Bomb) for securing the tickets. Sedaris read from some old work and some new work, correcting as he went. We were close enough to see the pencil. (I KNOW!)
When they turned on the house lights, he looked at the crowd expectantly and I could think of nothing nothing to ask of this lovably awkward little author.
In the car as we drove home I thought, why did I not just raise my hand?
Hi, Mr. Sedaris. Say, how long does it take you to go from having an experience to writing about it? Do you type or write initial drafts by hand? Are there certain topics you refuse to address in your writing, and why?
Hi, Mr. Sedaris. May I call you David? Dave? D?
Hi, Mr. Sedaris. The last time I read one of your essays, I choked on some black bean hummus. You're funny.
Hi, Mr. Sedaris. Does Hugh travel with you? Does he take up all your leftover leg room on the plane like my boyfriend?
I don't do well with celebrity encounters. My surviving memory of meeting poet Seamus Heaney is a photo I will try to find for you: I sweated and smiled so hard, the veins popped out of my blotchy red neck.
Last night I wore a scarf and kept my distance.
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3 comments:
Tag, you're it!
Check my blog.
was there anyone not wearing a scarf?
ps, my best celebrity encounter was when i punched mickey mouse in the face at disneyworld. take that corporate america.
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