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Karl F. Karl, I think we'd better do the right thing in the fall of 2008 and not wait for 2012. And I'm not the person to do it. I am lacking in patience, I have a low tolerance for meetings and organization, I do not do well in confrontational situations, I am thin-skinned, impulsive, poorly-informed about most of what a president must deal with, such as hedge funds—I honestly don't know what they are. And nobody can be elected president who wears red socks and red shoes. On the other hand, I am tall and wear glasses and am able to impersonate sagacity, but it's all window dressing. Your trust is misplaced, sir. I owe it to the American people not to serve and I intend to continue not serving. Permalink» | Comments (12) »
Dale K. I am not going to question the son of an Allis dealer on the color of A-C tractors, Dale, but I am darned sure that the Allis tractor I saw in Des Moines was virtually identical in color to the Farmall sitting next to it. I took notes as I walked around and that's what my notes say. There may be a genetic strain of Allis tractors that bred with a Farmall and came out different. Or maybe it got repainted by an Allis owner who aspired to Farmallhood. Anyway, it was a wonderful project by the Iowa FFA to recondition these old tractors and it was probably good that they put up signs saying, "Do Not Sit On Tractor" because otherwise you would've had old men with moon faces camped out on the things, eyes closed, dreaming of their youthful days cultivating beans. People my age are terribly susceptible to nostalgia, Dale. I am not, thanks to my friendships with the young, but others I know get all weepy at the sight of an old tractor. I keep looking forward. Especially to January. Permalink» | Comments (1) »
Thanks, People have watched some of the Olympics but it's a busy time, Monica. The corn and tomatoes are coming in and must be dealt with and there are children to pack off to school and also these summer nights are so sweet and languorous, people want to sit outdoors, not in front of a TV screen. The women's horseshoe event has gotten a lot of comment, though, and so has the mixed doubles egg toss. This is an event in which a man and a woman toss a raw egg back and forth, taking one step back for each successful catch and in Beijing the Canadian team was hurling the egg almost 200 yards, a new record. It certainly set a new standard for egg tossing. Permalink» | Comments (2) »
Mark P. Maybe so, but often the guest is flogging a book and the interview is free promotion and so some gratitude is in order. What irks me far more are the reporters whose names are given twice, at beginning and end, of their report, even if it's 30 seconds long. ".....here with a report is Xavier Onassis in Atholl. Blah blah blah blah blah. This is Xavier Onassis reporting from Atholl." And then the anchor says, "Thank you, Xavier." Why do you thank someone who has simply done his job? Even the meteorologist gets thanked for reading the Weather Service forecast. It makes more sense to me to thank the cleaning ladies. They do important work and do it better than a lot of reporters do theirs. Permalink» | Comments (20) »
You, on the other hand, seem very Midwestern. Is there any chance that you'll be taking up a same-sex partner, living the life of an ex-pat, or at least doing some undercover reporting at a nudist camp? Maybe you could take on work at a Macy's Santaland? Or at least spend a lot of time with Ira Glass. Your demographics could use some more youthfulness. Ken B. A generous thought on your part, Ken, but we are who we are and past a certain age, we can't very well remake ourselves. Mr. Sedaris is, down deep, a very hard-working painstaking writer who does extensive touring and is extremely conscientious about public performance. He is inexhaustible and famous for his generosity to his fans. The house in Normandy is neither here nor there. He seems to be a deeply monogamous man with old-fashioned attitudes about privacy and loyalty and discipline. Sardonic, in his case, conceals a sentimental romantic. If young people are drawn to Mr. Sedaris, I can only applaud their good taste. If I seem very midwestern, it's probably because I've lived here most of my life. One could do worse. Permalink» | Comments (5) »
Winnie M. A storyteller always cuts a narrow swathe, I believe, and stories diminish as they become larger in scope. I leave out a great deal—some craziness of the obsessive variety and also most of the sadness which seems to me to be commonplace and in the end rather dull. This may be a personal failing on my part. I am interested in valiant people who rise up and go cheerfully off to face shame and failure, which is what I do every day and so does every parent. Not so interested in the lonely anguished person you find in so much poetry gazing out at the cruel world, which is just self-pity projected onto a large screen. I'd rather tell about ballplayers or travelers or elderly people fighting to hold on. The new novel, "Liberty," is about ambition and how it separates you from people even if you are ambitious in their behalf. Clint Bunsen, the Chairman of the 4th of July committee, who even as he strives to put on a phenomenal Fourth feels that his whole life is a big fat mistake. He gets over it and the cloud disperses, as clouds tend to do, but I like writing about his ambition which, to some people, seems crazy. A writer should be able to treat insanity as something normal, which it surely is, especially in a small town. A good place for eccentrics, since over time the norms are relaxed and people with even rather dramatic eccentricities—Tourette's people, for example —are taken for granted. But gloom and mopiness are so shallow and trivial and have a numbing effect on a story. They're a standard staple of poetry and poison in prose fiction, and that's why I prefer prose fiction. Permalink» | Comments (2) »
Nick A. Thanks for coming, Nick. It was a wonderful night. The big crowd on folding chairs on the dirt racetrack, the crowd in the grandstand, people singing "On The Banks of the Wabash"—you knew that one, didn't you, kid? The candlelight gleaming through the sycamores? Didn't they force you to sing that in grade school? (Not many sycamores in punk rock, and not many smells of new-mown hay.) The great song Pat Donohue sang, "Too Late," is one you could learn—Pat wrote it—and you'd find that on our archive. "Sleepless Nights" is an old Everlys song, widely available online, ditto "Too Far Gone" (Billy Sherrill) and also the songs Suzy Bogguss sang. Some of the songs were my originals—nothing for you there—but the song I'd love for you to learn is "Lonesome Robin" which was the one about the death of the outlaw Robin Hood. Bob Coltman wrote that and I heard it sung many times by the late great Helen Schneyer, and when she died, I thought I ought to learn it and sing it. You can find that online too—there's a very sweet video of some English actor singing it on YouTube, in fact. So there's no need that I can see for me to publish a book (Wonderful Unfamiliar Hard To Find Songs) since everything is online. On the other hand, books are more permanent than digital. When the planet falters and the lights go out, our descendants (while cursing us for our foolishness) will gather in their smoky caves and pore through books. You just wait and see. Permalink» | Comments (2) »
Rebecca S. Push yourself in the direction of your fears, Rebecca, and learn to master things that frighten you —shy persons should learn to get up and speak and sing, clumsy people should do gymnastics, juggling, riding a unicycle. (I didn't do it and I regret that—I'd be a better performer if, in addition to writing, I'd studied dance and picked up a musical instrument and learned how to stand on my head.) You are in your prime learning years and they're not to be wasted sitting in a classroom listening to a teacher blather about things you're not motivated to really learn. The listless passive student sitting in a classroom in order to placate his or her parents—a huge waste of time. Grab hold of your ambition and go with it. Get a job as a tour guide, a good place for a performer to start. You master a body of knowledge and you learn to present it face-to-face to a small group of people and you will know immediately if you're engaging them or not and if you aren't, you'll learn how to improve. I live in an old neighborhood of stately piles, many of which have interesting stories, and ever so often a gaggle of tourists goes by, led by a guide—this is a great performance opportunity that might be better for you than a bit role in a show. Or camp counseling—children are a tough audience. And start building your skills—develop your singing with old show songs, learn to tell jokes, take up juggling, master the tango and the samba, take to the flying trapeze, learn to play the tuba, and keep a daily journal of all your doings. Whatever you do, don't sit and wait for the phone to ring. And when you're ready to take over the radio show, let me know. I've got a few more years and then I'm out of here. Permalink» | Comments (6) »
Thanks and cheers from Switzerland! Permalink» | Comments (5) »
Sidney E., Jr. I have the greatest respect for the Bible Bird show in Noblesville, Indiana, but I would point out that their act includes sword-swallowing, a flag-raising, and birds rescuing another bird from a burning building, none of which seems to me to have any relevance to the Bible, whereas the Gospel Bird show of Ernie and Irma Lundeen was entirely Scripture-based and included the Flight of the Dove from Noah's Ark on which thirty birds were dressed up as various animals. And there was a Rapture scene as well, and the birds took up the collection, flying around the room and picking up currency from the upraised hands of the congregation. So you can see that the Gospel Birds set a very high standard indeed. I am sure that a cockatoo who can swallow a sword is quite a thing to see, but you could offer that at a floor show in a Las Vegas casino. The Lundeens' show is definitely superior, at least for Sunday night church programs. My honest opinion. Permalink» | Comments (0) »
Ann Permalink» | Comments (77) »
Thanks, P.S. Congratulations on your cameo appearance in Stephen King's DUMA KEY. I think this means you have arrived. For eyes, I'd write "grey" but for hair I'd write "gray"—suits, I don't know.—As for the King reference, I'm guessing that he had me doing the News from Lake Wobegon on the radio in a deserted home just as some horrible mutated creature bursts in and slaughters the family, or perhaps a carnivorous lawnmower. Permalink» | Comments (8) »
Tamsyn The vows are for the wedding pair and having a big hammy guy officiating is not a good idea at all, my dear. The officiator should be a quiet efficient person, a slightly stooped person with wire-rim glasses, not a comedian. The spotlight is on the two people who are on the verge of making the big leap. Permalink» | Comments (2) » |
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