Showing posts with label Use All The Crayons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Use All The Crayons. Show all posts

Thursday, December 31, 2020

Tweets of the Year! ... No, really!


 I don’t know which of the two endeavors is more psychotic — haphazardly compiling a year’s worth of tweets or feeling compelled to read them. In fairness, I know of no one who admits to reading them. Maybe I should give away “I Survived 8days2Amish Best Tweets List.” It would be cool if I did and paparazzi snagged a shot of Melania wearing one on the beach …


Happy New Year! 





• You can play a mean bluegrass banjo or country fiddle here on earth & it won't matter one bit. Once you get to heaven, everyone's in a soul band.


• It’s a brazen betrayal of the sturdy container's very existence but most recycling bins cannot be recycled.


• I once imagined my life would include an era of depravity where I reveled in the dark cravings of the sordid flesh. Alas, the time for such wanton behavior has passed. Today, my idea of depravity is eating ice cream before lunch in a room where my wife and kids can see me.


• Many devote their lives to the pursuit of riches and power. I'm on a quest to rid my life of envy. I fear I'll always be envious of the envy-free.


Just once, I'd like to be in the clinic and hear the tech declare, "I'm here to draw blood!" have her don a beret, produce an easel, scribble furiously and hand me a paper with every spot covered in crimson red.


• I sometimes wonder if heaven is like "Fantasy Island" and God is like Mr. Roark. Then I wonder if the mere thought is sufficiently blasphemous to prevent my soul from ever finding out.


• When you order at the drive-thru do you make eye contact with the speaker like this disembodied voice will give you better service? Me? I flirt.


• Astronomers calculate Earth is 92,960,000 miles from the sun. I stepped outside today and I swear it feels more like 92,960,002.



• I was deeply flattered the other day when my daughter, 19, asked me for some life advice but am self-aware enough to realize that if I was anyone else and saw her asking me for advice, I'd think, "What could she possibly hope to learn from that jackass?”


• As a student of history, it's my understanding that man has waged war over injustice, territory, greed, vengeance, pride, and even reasons as petty as national vanity. As a student of breakfast, I'm surprised man has never waged a war over bacon. I'd enlist.


• Quid pro quo is one thing for another. More alarming in a legal sense is eight things for another or the rare squid pro quo.


• I used to make prognostications but I was so wrong so often I predict it'll never happen again.


• I wonder where the strangers who appear in our dreams go when we're awake and if they sleep in that place and have dreams that include people like us.


• Those who say they've lost everything and have no where to go but up often ignore the depth of a grave.


• Every four years I'm forced to overcome the confusion over whether Dixville Notch is an electorally significant New Hampshire village and not some anatomically precise porno jargon.


• I don't understand the need for the redundant spelling of tsetse fly. Is there a tse fly or a tsetsetse fly from which it needs distinguishing? Really, I don't tse the point.


• Most people confuse being opinionated with being correct. Just because you say something in a loud voice absent doubt doesn't mean you're right. Of course, that's just my opinion.


• ”Titanic" concluding now on AMC. I like the subtle irony of a movie where a painter gets framed and a woman whose name sounds like "ROWS" is hauled into a lifeboat and given an oar.


• Be honest: How much 'living' do you do in your living room? In fact, it should be called the "watching room" or, worse, the "ignoring-your-loved-ones room.”


• I wonder if any of the forward-thinkers at PETA have game-planned a pro-active position paper anticipating Jurassic scenarios where the organization defends the dinosaur's absolute right to roam free in the cities and the countrysides.


• If Jeremiah was, indeed, a bullfrog, who drove him to the liquor store to get his mighty fine wine? So much of the story remains untold.


• It infuriates me when I realize I'm 57 and my idea of a really great day is one that involves me finding a quarter. 


• The word quarantine refers to a period of time spent in isolation to determine healthfulness. It has been in use since the 15th century. The word Qur'antine refers to a period of isolation spent converting to Islam. It's been in use for about a minute.


• It’s heartening to see so many people being kind, encouraging and working toward shared goals. The pity is it always takes the world coming apart to bring people together.


• If they gave the death sentence for killing time could you live forever? 


• Podiatrists with empty appointment calendars are light on their feet.


• I guess I can understand the rationale, but it's still jarring. Wikipedia lists Charles Manson's occupation as "singer-songwriter" and he is thus in their eyes professional peers with Taylor Swift.


• I’m amazed to learn germs can jump nearly 6 feet. This would be remarkable if germs had legs. But they do not. How do they do it? Six feet! It would be like me broad jumping from here and landing in Denver. ESPN ought to organize germ olympics. I'd watch.


• Irony of living in these uncertain times is how so much uncertainty could produce so many who are absolutely certain they're never wrong


• Reading newspapers on-line is to reading actual newspapers what phone sex is to lovemaking. Gone is the soul, the serendipity and chance to get your hands good and dirty during the touchy endeavor.


• People are critical of hoarders and those trying to make an indecent profit off their stash, but to me it makes perfect sense. The biggest assholes are always going to need the most toilet paper.


• How many of you would take a pill that would prevent coronavirus but had one side effect: It would completely & emphatically change your opinion on Trump. That is, if you love him, you'd now viscerally & vocally detest him. And vice versa. I'll bet most of you couldn't do it.


• How unsettling will it be to your faith if Jesus returns Sunday, but he's wearing one of those HAZ-MAT suits?


• I think we're fast approaching a day where safe sex is all safe and no sex.


• I always chuckle at the inaccuracy when I hear people say the world can be cruel. Sillies, the Earth is inanimate and does not have emotions so Earth is never cruel. Earth is indifferent. Now Earthlings …


• And while we're at it, how come we're Earthlings instead of Earthians, ala Martians. I know of no equivalent. No Pittsburgherlings. No Frenchlings. Earthling sounds like the name for a captivity-bred panda


• I’m going to install a trampoline in the bathroom so when I announce I'm going to jump in the shower I can really -- oh, just forget it!


• Some projections maintain coronavirus self-quarantine could last another interminable 18 month. Months, days & endless hour after endless hour ... still not enough time to make me ever want to sit through "The Irishman" again.


• Lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, pride. How come something collectively referred to as "The Seven Deadly Sins" simultaneously check all the boxes for one really lively party.


• I refuse to be swept up in cynicism. I believe our best days remain ahead of us. The arts will flourish. Poverty and injustice will be vanquished & humans will enjoy an era were reason prevails. There will still be conflict, but in the future our wars will be fought with farts.


• I try and see the reason behind decisions I don't understand and believe even in divisive issues people with whom I disagree are acting in good faith. But when I hear someone - anyone - prefers regular Oreos over Double Stuf, I'm like, "What are you? Some kind of #%&*! idiot?”


• I’m buoyed by the fact that given our access to social media, prop pets/babies and our innate creativity then if we're destined to slide into another depression future historians will dub this The Cheerful Depression.


• Wonder if guys in heaven talk about earth bodies the way they talk about old cars: "It was bald, had a great big ass, tiny li’l pecker but, man, the thing got great mileage.”


• We live in a time when being right or being wrong matters less than always having someone to blame when it all goes to hell.


• Conservative whites who become livid when wished Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas think blacks over-reacting about unarmed blacks getting murdered by conservative whites.


• I remain baffled that the tasteless phrase "wouldn't kick her out of bed for eating crackers" persists. I've never encountered a gent so refined as to ask any cracker-eating female to leave his bed once she got in. In fact, if there were two willing women and one had crackers and the other did not, and he had to pick one or the other, guaranteed, most men would invite the one with the crackers to get in. Lesson: if you're a woman prone to promiscuity always, just in case, keep a sleeve of crackers handy.


• I awoke from a dream it was the night before when I'd awoken from a dream it was the night before. Now I'm confused about what day it is, if I'm asleep or awake or if I exist at all. I'd ask fellow quarantinies to pinch me but fear inviting violence could escalate …


• There’s something so unnerving about being engaged in a life-and-death struggle against an enemy our soldiers can't confuse or infuriate with a well-timed moon.                                                                                                                                                        


• People strum guitars. A guitar is an inSTRUMent. Which word came first?


• Leonardo da Vinci said, “The  human foot is a masterpiece of engineering and a work of art.” Given the scope of his admirations it’s surprising his most famous work is Mona Lisa and not Mona Lisa’s feet.



• I’m a law-and-order guy who believes not until all the laws are equitably applied to all the people can true order ever be enforced or expected. 


• Any man who says he's his own worst critic is either single or delusional.


• I’d like to hear a canine translation of what dogs say to other dogs when they discuss how humans package food. "So she left this box of Pop Tarts on the table. I jump right up there, but the Pop Tarts are wrapped in foil that's inside pressed cardboard. I was so pissed. I mean, what do you do if you need a Pop Tart, like, right away?”

.

• Daughter, 14, expressed an interest in becoming a songwriter. I approved saying writing songs -- good songs --will bestow ways to cope with all life's problems. Then I disapproved because writing songs -- good songs -- has a way of bestowing all life's problems.


• Foot Facts — The average person takes between 8,000- and 10,000 steps a day. That adds up to 115,000 miles in a lifetime — four  times the circumference of the globe. Question: if for one day we all together walked toward the rising sun, could we reverse time?


• Many are saying they're avoiding social media. Too divisive. Not me. I check it every 10 minutes to see how many more of my jackass friends used the 10-week quarantine to become constitutional scholars.


• Do you remember when your biggest concern was that some minimum wage grocery store clerk would benignly wish you Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas? Ah, the good ol' days …


• In heaven, all the cakes are angel food. Heck, when you get right down to it, in heaven even things like Cheetos are angel food.


• Proper mimes can be safe, but never sound.


Q: If they fought a battle between all the FB friends you genuinely like and all the ones you secretly don't, who'd win?


A: No one. It’s a trick question. You should genuinely like ALL your friends!



• Happy #bobbybonilladay. It was Bonilla, a Pirate in '91, who inspired one of the all-time great perspective quotes from Bucco manager Jim Leyland. Bonilla said $24 million offer wasn't enough and he had to "take care" of his family. Leyland said, "Hell, for $24 million he can take care of Guam.”


• Our greatest frustrations stem from when we demand perfection from those incapable of providing it.


• Because we're all under some pressure to balance the language and be more even handed, I intend to spend the day thinking of whom I can accurately describe as a "daughter of a bitch." Then I'm going to start working on a book I'll call "Famous Sons of Famous Bitches!" 


• I almost made the mistake of responding to a friend's sweet compliment by declaring she's " too kind." Too kind? In a weary world where many people are mean from their toes to their teeth, no one can ever be "too kind." From today on, I bask in any surplus kindness. Bring it!


• America being torn apart over removal of Confederate statues. What's next? Will Germans commence removal of all their Hitler park statues? 


• When I see the family wreckage that often results from excessive money and the resulting greed, by God, I'm proud to be poor. That feeling persists right up to the moment the Xfinity bill arrives. 


• There must be a baker's equivalent to "piece of cake" that is not "piece of cake." Because if a baker says something is going to be a piece of cake and shows up with a pie instead he could be accused of loafing -- and don't get me started on bakers who loaf.


• Congratulations Facebook, now entering your 17th year of letting the most reckless among us to ascribe the worst of our political enemies to people we once considered our best of friends.


• You saying, "Now, I'm not a racist, but ..." and then saying something incredibly racist is like me saying, "Now, I'm not lazy, but ..." and immediately laying down to take nap.


• I encourage everyone to wear masks because they'll reduce the spread of germs that make people sick. Next, we'll encourage many of you to wear muzzles because they'll reduce the spread of your obnoxious opinions that make people sick.


• At one time and to even the leading scholars of the era, even The Dark Ages were considered "Modern Times." 


• I’m at first gratified that today in America we are taking meaningful steps to end racial inequality, but then become incredulous when I realize it's 2020 and America today is 244 years old.


• In 1996, Tom Petty and Johnny Cash, two icons worth a combined $190 million, came together to make an album called "Unchained." That they didn't call it "Petty Cash" is to me a bitter disappointment


• So, the Invisible Man eats a visible hoagie. At what point in the digestive process does the hoagie disappear?


• ”... and on the seventh day, He rested." See, God may have created Heaven and Earth, but in His infinity wisdom He knew better than to create a lawn that would need mowing every Sunday.


• The world will be better off if we get away from TVs that have 1,000 channels with 20 that broadcast news 24/7 and get back to TVs that have 20 channels with one that seems to broadcast Gilligan 24/7.


• I do not like eating outside. I do not like heat. I do not like noise. I do not like sharing my meal with things that sting. History lesson: Outside is the reason man invented inside.


• It’s rare to find an ice cube that's actually cubic. In fact, most ice is rhombus shaped. It's ironic, but saying ice rhombus wouldn't sound cool even though it's all ice ... Had to get that off my chest.


• I know it's unrefined for someone who aspires to sophistication of manners, but I sometimes wolf down my meals. My daughters are far daintier. It's more like they poodle theirs down. "Poodle Down!" would be a great name for some don't ask/don't tell military rom-com.


• It’s entirely possible to kick a squirrel right in the nuts and hurt only his feelings. Hers, too.


• This election is convincing me the first time many Americans will believe in science is when it is applied to the lift-off that takes them safely away from this planet which through their neglect and indifference has become an uninhabitable cinder.


• The new Rt. 30 Sheetz near Latrobe is being constructed so quickly I wonder if the bread'll have enough time to get properly stale.


• When even the mundane are deemed worthy of demonization Hell itself becomes pedestrian.


• Perspective: as godawful as 2020 has been, guaranteed, in 2041 our travails will be one paragraph in school history books that'll be boring future students. That is assuming 2020 doesn't take a really dark turn that'll mean 2041 never happens.


• Because it would suggest modernization and would require the change of just a handful of letters, I suggest we change the name of the Walter Reed Army Medical Center to the Walter O'Reilly Army Medical Center.


• I would think one of the most difficult things in nature would be being a praying mantis and trying to explain to your parents that you've lost your faith.


• I admit to feelings of wistfulness over not having sired a son. These feelings pass when I realize a son would by now be asking me, "Daddy, would you help me secure my man bun?" And to my everlasting shame I'd feel obliged to assist.


• Sure this all sucks, but #LookingontheBrightSide, it's sure to yield great movies and books for the survivors to years from now enjoy. Remember: without the global cataclysm of WWII, we never would have had "Saving Private Ryan.”


• Jeff Bezos is worth $178.8 billion. You and I are, well, worth less. But there'll be hell to pay if I ever catch anyone saying we're worthless.


• Fancy shaving ads about ease of accessing those "hard-to-reach" places crack me up. Hard to reach? I'm shaving my face, not the gnarled butt of some Mongolian yak 20,000 feet up the Himalayas.


• The people who make so-called Mega Stuft Oreos suffer from a serious lack of imagination.


• If Spring is when Mother Nature puts on her make-up, then Fall is when she starts climbing into her coffin.


• Told daughter, 14, Eagles "Hotel California" was originally going to be called "Hotel Pennsylvania" but The Golden State came up with tax breaks to secure naming rights. Her scornful reaction made me nostalgic for the days when daughters would fall for any line of crap.


• I’d like to know the first words of souls arriving in Hell when their last words on Earth were, "Goodbye cruel world!”


• Speculators envision a day when toilet paper is traded like coffee, milk or other commodities. They are mistaken. Toilet paper cannot become a commodity. Toilet paper is a commode-ity.


• If I labored in the janitorial services and spent a lot of time scrubbing toilets I'd spend a lot of that time wondering whose bright idea it was to make every toilet gleaming white. Isn't there maybe a better color, one that matches fixture functionality. Like maybe say, oh, I don’t know ,,, brown?






Monday, March 16, 2020

We're ALL essential



When I heard our duly elected leaders are asking only essential workers report to work, like many of you, I looked myself in the mirror and asked myself an existential question:

“Are you essential?”

I thought about what I’ve been doing for the last 30 years and if any of it would have any positive impact on this COVID-19 crisis. Would it save lives? Ease fears? Promote humanity?

There was!

I could blog!

I am essential!

I’m kidding. I concluded, c’mon, I’m perfectly non-essential — nearly useless — and climbed back in bed for an hour-long doze.

I did this knowing armies of essential doctors, nurses, researchers and federal, state and local decision makers are on a mortal deadline to save asses like mine. Or is it more accurate to say asses like me. 

These professionals don’t have time to look in the mirror and ask themselves precious questions about whether they matter or not.

I doubt they even have necessary time to pray or be scared.

Well, allow me: “Please, God, help and protect the all the people who are helping and protecting all the people.”

See, I’m not among those who think this is a media-driven hoax. I don’t believe it’ssomething you can belittle with a pejorative nickname or a clever tweet.

It’s a germ. You can’t hurt its feelings.

How about you? Are you essential?

You are to me.

I hear from so many people who say they enjoy reading my stuff it makes me feel, — uh, what’s the word? — grateful?

That’s my friend Jim Gregory up there who said he turned to my book for inspiration Sunday before returning today to Harrisburg where Jim, a Republican, serves the people of the 80th Diistrict in the state legislature.

He said: “This book gave me what I needed today. Your words help keep perspective of what's important during this crisis.”

Thank you, Jim. You’re essential.

Police and other first responders are essential, but so are truck drivers. And I can find something essential about every baker, brewer and banker, too. And librarians,, florists, newspaper reporters, etc.

Should the gizmos that link our TV’s access to things like NetFlix, the man or woman on duty to carry out repairs will become to my family in that instant the most essential person on the planet.

They’re closing down the bars and restaurants. I understand the preventative rationale for the move, but I’m losing access to people and places that are essential to my happiness. 

I really enjoy my life and all the people who populate it.

I suspect some of them are going to go away for a while and some, sadly, forever.

But of this I’m confident: There’s going to one day be a headline that says in big, bold type: “CORONAVIUS CURE FOUND!”

I hope it hits like a gloom-obliterating bolt of lightning. I hope it not only cures the disease it ends doubt and hopelessness; side effects may include increased tolerance and acceptance if those with whom we disagree.

And I hope it comes in a liquid form and that for some crazy reason the first cases of cure all get shipped right here to the ol’ Tin Lizzy.

Cheers!

Oh, what a party it’ll be.

Until that happy day, I’m going to try and do my part. I’m going to blog, just so you can have one slim corner of the internet that won’t be all doom and gloom.

If blogging is all I can do then all I’ll do is blog.

Sure, it’s not exactly Dr. Jonas Salk (Pittsburgher!) and the cure for polio, but it’s all I got.

It’s too late for me to enroll in med school and begin actually saving lives. I’ll leave that essential stuff to the doctors and scientists dedicated to finding a cure. 

It’s up to them to prolong our lives.

It’s essentially up to you and me to make our lives worth living.




Related …






Thursday, September 19, 2019

Video review says "Crayons!" makes dental drill a laugh


Just one day later and I can’t remember how I found something I will now never forget. 

Kinda sounds like a sentiment that ought to be on a floral anniversary card (Happy Day-Before 23rd Anniversary, VLR!). 

But, no, this wasn’t about anniversaries, birthdays or other hallmarks of familial importance.

This is all about smiles!

The American Dental Association recommends you see a dentist every six months. Or you could just once read “Use All The Crayon! The Colorful Guide to Simple Human Happiness.”

While the dentist is drilling your teeth.

Without Novocaine! 

That’s the YouTube testimony of certified wellness guru Deborah Edwards, who was on the Mind Body Spirit Network giving her entirely unsolicited review of the book I still believe will one day explode into the national consciousness. And if it does, it’ll be because of fans like Edwards and videos like the one I link to below (I hate to direct you elsewhere once I have your attention)

Allow me to summarize.

This was on the wellness network’s High Vibe Tribe Book Review.

Host/Founder Liz Gracia intros Edwards who begins to beam as she holds up an image of the book’s cover. She is in her Happy Place.

She talks about the book’s structure, cites some examples and says the book will brighten every life. That’s all good. Then she takes it into a realm I never imagined. And remember, a man once said me and this book cured his hangover.
“I was in the dentist chair,” she says. “I was listening to this book and my dentist is drilling in mouth — and I’m laughing! It kind of set him off a little bit. He kept going, ‘You okay?’ And I’d say, ‘Yeah. Ha! Ha!’ He finishes and says, ‘Deborah, I gotta tell you, I’m not accustomed to people laughing in my chair.’ It’s just such an enjoyable book.”

I’m watching this and it’s such a great story I begin to feel faint, like an unprincipled dentist had just given me too much nitrous oxide. 

She concludes and it’s apparent her buoyancy is contagious. Gracia is laughing. She can’t believe my book made Edwards giggle through a dental drilling. “I’m assuming,” she said, “you had novocaine.”

She did not!

And it’s all on YouTube.

So, in the last six months … 

• I’ve delivered a well-received commencement address for a local high school.

 • A popular Governor agreed to provide the foreword for my new book. Republican Tom Ridge says, “Rodell writes about Latrobe the way Sinatra sings about New York, unflinching about the gritty realities, but with abiding affection and relentless positivity about the future.”

• A dear friend who ministers at a Ligonier church based her sermon on “Use All The Crayons!” It was wonderful. Why haven’t I blogged about that heirloom honor? I believe it would be impossible for me to write about without being blasphemous. For example, “It was the best time I’ve ever had in church. I think it was cause we spent more time praising me than we did what’s His name.”

And now comes this incredible endorsement in a forum rich with opportunity.

I consider these substantial achievement and wonder …

How the heck can I guy who can boast all that be so broke?

Understand, I’m not depressed. Just confused.

I remain convinced — now more than ever — that I’m on the verge of a breakthrough that’ll fulfill the latent promise of all these misspent years, nearly three decades of cheerful dissipation.

But what if never happens?

It’ll for me be a mortal disappointment I’ll need to numb.

Good thing I now know where to find some surplus novocaine.




• Here’s the video review.


Related …










Friday, October 26, 2018

I'm now hosting Tin Lizzy holiday book luncheons


One of my favorite things about working at the Tin Lizzy is pretending I own the Tin Lizzy.

This usually happens when Buck, the actual owner since 1980, is conducting bar business with some unsuspecting vendor, inspector or job applicant in one of the many unoccupied second or third floor rooms within earshot of my office.

I storm into the conversation and begin profanely berating Buck in front of the startled visitor.

“Are you pretending you’re the owner again? I told you if you keep this up I was going to fire your ass. Get back there and finish scrubbing those toilets. Now!”

I then turn to the now bewildered stranger and say, “I’m sorry about this. I’m Buck. I own the place. What can I do for you?”

Now, they don’t know what to think. They look at Buck and they look at me.

My deft lies are perfectly plausible. Unlike Buck, I’m the one who has an actual office in the building. And since I’ve been doing so many book signings and speaking engagements I often dress up. They look at me and see a man in a snazzy sports coat, nice shoes, sometimes a neck tie. I resemble a prosperous businessman, the kind of gent you’d expect to run an historic tavern/restaurant.

Then they look at Buck, an outdoorsman who enjoys spending days in the woods. They see a man who looks like he could spring off his bar stool at any minute and  either gut a deer or make a toilet sparkle.

I don’t know what I enjoy more, the bewildered look on the stranger’s face or the blank one on Buck’s that leads me to believe he’s either playing along or secretly plotting to murder me and make it look like an accident.

So I have a lot of fun here. And now you’re invited to join me.

Management — the real deal — has said I’m welcome to host holiday luncheon or dinner parties in the second floor banquet room. No charge.

The last month convinced me there’s enough of a demand to reach out to groups who’d like to come see the Tin Lizzy, dine off the regular menu, and be entertained by my Arnold Palmer stories and the swashbuckling tales of my years as a seat-of-the-pants freelance writer.

I tell the story about the day National Enquirer asked me to wear a kilt around Latrobe, too, so that seat-of-the-pants bit is purely metaphorical.

Presumptuous of me? Perhaps.

But I just wrapped up my busiest month ever — 12 libraries, two banquet halls, a senior center and the hometown high school — and was ecstatic by the reaction. At every venue people have come up and said how much they enjoyed my talk and how they’d wished friends of theirs could have made it. Many have asked if they could come to the Tin Lizzy.

Yesterday I spoke to seniors ranging in age from 18 to 95. In the morning it was high school writers and in the afternoon it was senior residents at Redstone Highlands.

How’d it go? Kids were stopping my daughter in the high school hallways to say my stories cracked them up.

The more experienced seniors? The organizer said she wants me back in two weeks.

I think I’m hitting my stride. 

So consider this your invitation. Any group of 5 to 18 can make arrangements through me — 724 961-2558; storyteller@chrisrodell.com — and we will set a date. Food and drink can be ordered off the menu at menu prices. My signed books will be available at cover prices. No speaker fees, no mark-ups, no gouging.

You can get a good meal, enjoy some conversation, support a local business (and its parasitic local author) and get a jolt of holiday cheer. And you can see a landmark local building with historic roots.

You might even see Buck!

What do I get out of it? I’ll make some new friends, sell some books and enjoy a cheerful little siesta. Mostly, I get a now-familiar euphoric feeling that comes from making people laugh. They cheer, they clap, they buy my books and they tell me I’m great.

It’s wonderful.

And when that happens, I look around the room and feel something deeply satisfying. I’ve done something special.

I feel like you own the place.

And, believe me, I know the feeling