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In a world that has gone completely off the rails, there remain some simple values we can still enjoy and support.
Books, reading, children.
And, yes, sure, the good folks who create the books and try to eke out a living doing so. There are times we feel like an endangered species.
Please stop by my table and say hello!
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I recently attended a two-day “Woodsist” music festival with my daughter Maggie at Arrowood Farms in Accord, NY. This was our second trip to Arrowood together, nearly a tradition. The first time it poured. We wore heavy yellow rain suits for two days. Despite our sunniest efforts, we felt waterlogged and weary by the end of it.
Not this year!
The weather was a gift, sunny and warm, all weekend.
On Day Two, we enjoyed a set by The Vivian Girls, an all-female rock trio. It was a lively set, full of blistering energy and good vibes. The truth is, it’s still a thrill whenever I see an all-female band. A band that rocks, that takes the stage, and owns it — and just so happens to be made up of women.
Later that day, as sometimes happens at festivals, I was wandering around and saw the band’s bassist, Katy Goodman, standing beside a male friend, presumably her husband. I’m not normally one to approach a celebrity. And if I do, I try to be respectful of that celebrity’s personal space.
But on this day, I paused and asked, “Hey, do you mind if I say something?”
They stiffened a bit, exchanged uncertain glances, but gave me the nod. It was okay if I said something. Quickly, I gathered.
And so I looked at Katy and said something along these lines:
“I watched your set earlier today with my daughter, Maggie. We both loved it. She’s twenty-four years old and has been playing guitar and singing a lot lately, just loving music in general. And I just want to say that as a father, it was so nice for me to watch her, watch you. For her to see three powerful women rocking out. Thank you for that. It means a lot, really. You’re doing good work.”
And that was that. They thanked me, a little surprised, and seemed genuinely touched.
I didn’t linger, just smiled and drifted away.
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Flowers for the living, as the Irish say.
The headline says it all.
Great festival, an embarrassment of riches.
I believe the number of authors & illustrators is at 150 and counting.
A lot of great people.
If you can find me — in the yellow tent — please say hello!
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“Anger feels so much better than sadness.
Cleaner, somehow, and more definite.
But then when the anger fades, the sadness
comes right back again the same as ever.”
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I don’t often talk about what I’ve been reading here on ye olde blog. Maybe I’ll do more of that, maybe not. But I’ve been wrongly erased on Facebook — an outrageous story I’ll document one day soon — I ran afoul of the robots, somehow, despite doing nothing wrong — and that’s where I’d often talk about movies I loved, books I loved, music I loved, etc., along with publishing news from the relentless self-promotion machinery.
This Anne Tyler book reminds me of Elizabeth Strout’s Lucy By the Sea, another one I loved. Some similar themes and writing style, closely observed realistic fiction from an older woman’s POV.
This one is only 165 pages! Gosh, I love a short book. I read it in a day and thoroughly enjoyed every page. Tyler is one heck of a writer. But you knew that, didn’t you?
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