I've been a reader all my life. When I was a kid I walked to the library (remember when kids did that?) and as I walked home, I would read. By the time I got home I was almost finished with whatever book I had in my hands... I couldn't even wait to get home to start! Years passed and my reading, I'm very ashamed to say, has dwindled. Maybe it was the work I've done for 20+ years. Medical transcription involves so much "reading"and staring at a computer for 8-12 hours a day...you get the idea. Would you like a little 'whine' with that sentence? It's true that it is tough most nights to force my eyeballs to look at anything involving pages of a book, let alone have my brain comprehend it.
Then I was introduced to the writing of David Sedaris. I read "Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim" and I was forever indebted to this incredibly funny man who has the extraordinary ability to make me laugh out loud - and not just giggle...I'm talking serious belly laughing. The man has a gift.
Not only did he recharge my reading capacity, he inspired me to want to tell stories in a way that could hopefully make people laugh and feel good, the way his do for me. Unfortunately I haven't really done anything about that yet...just still chewing on that idea. And chewing...like taffy. But he planted the seed and for that I will always be grateful.
A year ago my friend and I went to see him speak at a local concert hall. It was awesome, but we were sky high and really could barely see him. We could hear him though, so I thought I was in heaven. Fast forward to the here and now. His somewhat new book, "Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls" was just released and, to my utter joy and excitement, his book tour was bringing him to a local independently owned book shop here in St. Louis! Broke as I was (and still am) I scrunched up enough to preorder the book and with that came my signing ticket. I went to pick them up and thought I might seriously faint with the idea that I would soon be standing in front of my favorite author, face to face.
For 10 days before the event, my mind was aflutter. I knew that he spoke with each person individually for a few minutes while signing their book, so needless to say I was trying to think of something remotely clever to say to this super-clever man to match wits. My imagination took over. My vision became me telling this man how much I enjoyed the story about Halloween candy from one of his books, and how it had inspired me to want to write as well. "Oh my," he would say in his little voice that sounds a little like Truman Capote. "I would love to mentor you and help you in any way that I can." Inside my book he would write his personal email address. "Send me some samples. I'll take a look at them!"
"How nice!" I would exclaim gleefully. "I'd very much appreciate that, kind sir!"
The evening arrived and the crowd was already quite large, filling the street that had been blocked off for the reading over the loudspeaker, and already with probably 200 people inside. Keeping in mind the fact that he speaks to every individual, we were looking at quite a wait. About 3 hours in, the crowd dispersed some. The next group of people were taken inside, based on their signing ticket number, and I was slated for the third group. Another hour later, my friend was, well - sorry Susie - whining. Grumpy. But I wasn't quitting now. We were so close! She agreed to suck it up and make the best of it, but it took a little convincing.
It was time. By now it was after midnight and we had been there six hours. I briefly went over the imaginary conversation in my head that was soon to become reality. I was about to meet my future mentor who would lead me down the path to being a successful author. I approached the table where he was sitting with a woman whom I believe was an assistant or a publicist. I was silent. He asks, "Who's Sheri?" based on the sticky note in the book with my name on it. "I am." I think that was my voice! Silence as he started to sign my book.
I heard myself, barely audible, "My favorite story is the one about the Halloween candy and your neighbors from 'Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim'." He heard me but didn't say much. So I continued. "You know, where your neighbors weren't home..." my voice trailed off. My friend hopped into the conversation to say, "I think he's familiar with the story, Sheri." I think we all laughed. I felt weird. That was my lead-in to him taking me under his wing, but we were barely speaking. What is wrong with me??? I mean, I have better conversations in the 10-items-or-less line at the grocery store. Why couldn't I break the ice?
He had turned to look through a sticker book to pick out a cute animal sticker for my book. This is apparently why it was after midnight and we were just getting to see him. I said casually, "Oh, if you have a cute kitty sticker, I have four cats at home!" Floodgates = open.
"Well you know that means you're crazy," I heard him say. "And your house smells like cat litter."
"No...it doesn't," was my clever response.
"Yes, it does."
"No, really it doesn't."
He looked at Susie, who suddenly had nothing to add and shrugged herself out of it.
He turned to me and looked directly at me. "What you need to do is pick two of your cats and take them and have them put to sleep - tomorrow." I'm pretty sure my eyes bugged out of my head. "Do you know which two you would pick? I would suggest the fore and the aft."
I was dumbfounded and heard myself say, "I know which two." What the hell? He was looking at me so seriously but on retrospect I recall a twinkle in his eyes. I said, "It's not going to happen. There's no way!" And I was loud and red-faced, which I later figured is exactly the response he was going for. I continued. "Oscar is 17 years old..."
"Oh, well he's going to die soon anyway then."
In my best pouty voice with a red face that felt hot I semi-whimpered, "You know, I didn't know what our conversation would be like when I got up here, but I'm pretty sure I didn't think it would be so morbid!" By now I found myself leaning over the table and making a swiping motion. I saw him tilt his head back and laugh. Wow. Awesome.
"Yeah, I'm sure glad we waited in line for five hours so you could tell her that her cat's going to die!" Susie was chiming in - I knew somehow she'd get her dig in on the wait.
An unfamiliar voice chimed in. "And that her house smells like litter!" It was the assistant lady sitting at the table with him! Our volume had risen measurably by now and it was spreading through to the people in line behind us. I know they were jealous that we were having such a great time, but I don't think they knew what we were talking about!
Back on topic, a very concerned David Sedaris who was obviously worried I was going to become a hoarder, says, "Promise me then that as they die, you won't replace them."
Naturally I gave an unexpected and inappropriate response. "MMM...maybe a bird?" What am I saying? What about the mentorship? How did this happen and where did I lose control? Did I ever have control?
"No!" The three of them were shouting at me. "You'll be a hoarder!" says the lady. I didn't quite get that, but I finally agreed to the not replacing plan.
In less than 10 minutes the conversation had gone from my awkward chatter to crazy loud, raucous laughter. Typical David Sedaris.
I picked up my book and said, "Thank you - I think." More laughter. Susie and I walked away and I turned to her and said, "We made David Sedaris laugh." I was drunk with happiness.
Outside I opened my book to see what he had written. There was a sticker of a black cat and around it in magic marker..."To Sheri, My S(cat sticker)atological friend." As I sounded out the word that included the picture of the cat, Susie nodded her approval. I said, "I don't know what that means. What's 'scatological'?" She calmly explained that it meant all things in regards to poo. Poo?
I let that sink in. "So it was a COMPLIMENT!" She nodded.
Perfect.
