October Gets Me

This year my birthday mostly slid by unnoticed, and that's how I wanted it, by god—but Cathy did buy me tickets to see Jeffrey Eugenides speak at the Baghdad. It was one of those gifts that keeps on giving, because you got a copy of Eugenides' new book The Marriage Plot upon entry, and I just started reading it right this second.

But about the live reading, it was kinda a new experience for me. Basically, we drank beer and listened to the author read something from the book, and then persevered through the "question and answer." One thing many of the people who stepped up to the mic had in common was a love of hearing their own voice. They'd blab on in the face of an award winning author, all about their own half-baked interpretations of everything he's ever written and what it has to do with their own small lives and ideas. Catherine and I exchanged many an exasperated glance through all this. Just let the guy fucking talk. That's why I came here.

As a whole, though, I liked the show. It was more interactive than a movie, and a little more civilized than a rock show. You have to like reading those book thingies to enjoy something like this, but if you do, I'd highly recommend it.

Although my schedule's been pretty tight, work-wise, I squeaked out to Tigard skatepark the other day because, well, it musta been over a year since I was here, and that's saying a lot since we used to localize this place. Anyway, all the same kids were lurking. Nick, Carlos, Kelly ... the usual suspects. I'm down for those kids. We kinda watched them grow up. I tied Lefty up in a corner and did some laps under the autumn foliage, remembering why I love this place.

 

 

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Self-Induced Literature