I’ve started reading David Sedaris. I’m reading Naked right now. Funny, funny stuff. I’ve found a new favorite author. I plan to read more, as long as Heath Haddock will continue to let me borrow his books. I’m a cheapskate when it comes to books. Well, books and clothes. And cereal. Well, food in general actually.
I would rather wait for a book to become available at the library than buy it new. I would rather wait for the paperback than buy a $20 hardcover. Why buy when you can borrow?
There are very few books that I’ve read more than once. When I do buy a book, it seems like a waste. I will read it, and then it will sit on the shelf until Misty decides it has sat around for too long so it must be sold in a yard sale. So I paid 20 bucks for a few days of entertainment and a few nights of little to no sleep. Why pay for something you can get for free?
As for clothes… I remember in Junior High Guess! Jeans were all the rage. Everyone wore them. I had to have them. The problem was, they cost anywhere from $60 to $80 a pair. To at 12-13 year-old this is a very small price to pay for a reputation. When I asked for them, my dad hit the roof. The same could be said of our battles over shoes.
His favored retort to any appeal for clothing was something along the lines of, “You can get shoes (or jeans or shirts or {insert article of clothing here}) that are just as good at K-Mart for a tenth of that price!”
This response never lost its shock value for me. Every time he said it I would roll my eyes and groan (as any normal teen would,) and then go ask my mom for the money. She was only slightly better. Each fall my mother took me to the mall and gave me $150 to buy “back-to-school” clothes. The only requirement was that I get 2 pair of jeans and 2 shirts. In Junior high, I wore some pretty cheap shirts.
These days, well, I’m much more like my dad. I can’t remember the last time I bought an item of clothing that wasn’t from Target or Old Navy. Usually from the clearance rack. Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I bought something that wasn’t on the clearance rack.
As a matter of fact I know that everything I’m wearing right now came from Target or Old Navy. And now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure it was all on sale. Except for maybe my shirt, which is at least 10 years old and has a hole in one sleeve. $11 cargo pants; you can’t beat that. My 13-year-old self would curl into the fetal position and moan at the sight of my closet.
I have long been an advocate of off-brand foods. In college I lived on bologna sandwiches and generic Apple Cinnamon Cherios. (Or maybe the were called Oaty O’s?) These days I am prone to buy the cereal in a plastic bag. What comedian Jim Gaffigan refers to as “homeless cereal.” Not because homeless people eat it, but because it’s lack of a box makes it look homeless.
It’s just as good as the real thing. I promise. Sure it doesn’t stack on the shelf as neatly as the boxed varieties. And some times the re-sealable zip top detaches from the bag the first time you open it, but it’s not bad stuff. Well, it’s not bad taste wise. I refuse to look at the ingredients.
I went a really long way around the block to say: I’m really enjoying David Sedaris. (And to say thanks to Heath for feeding into my need for cheapness by letting me borrow the books.) Sedaris tells strange, funny, oddly touching stories from his life in a way that draws you in a plops you down beside him; either in his grandmother’s bug infested apartment or in a pick-up truck he’s hitchhiking in as his head is shoved to the seat by the cold steel of a gun barrel. I have not yet finished the first book, but I already know I want to read his others.
More than that though this book has given me a goal to strive toward with my writing. Don’t get me wrong I am not comparing myself to David Sedaris. He is far funnier and far smarter than I could dream of being. Also, he has more stories in one book than I have come up with in 5 years. It does give me some direction.
It is very probably a goal I will never achieve. Actually I’m not sure I can even call it a goal. I have no notion that I am or will ever be a great writer. I have no aspirations of authoring a book. I have no deep-seated desire to be read by millions. I do want to entertain, at least a little. I do want to be funny.
Mostly I just want to leave a little something behind. Try to offer a little insight on life within my small sphere of influence. I want to get these stories and thoughts in some form that my kids can read years from now.
Plus, it gives me a place to air my dirty laundry where people can’t walk out of the room in the middle of a story. (Well, if they do, at least I can’t see them.) I’ve said it before; this is much cheaper than therapy. Writing some of this stuff gives me a chance to deal with it the best way I know how. (Aside from burying it deep in my psyche. I am very practiced at burying things.)
I am just a guy of average intelligence with limited writing talent, a weird sense of humor, a few decent stories, and more than a few quirks and oddities. Thank you for indulging me. Thank you for coming along with me on this ride. I hope you enjoy it.
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