Wednesday, May 9, 2012
I have read Where The Wild Things Are but I don’t remember it well. We (my siblings and I) were given The Nutshell Library (four tiny Sendak books in a small box) and I thought those were fine. I remember there was a kid who said “I don’t care!” a lot.
After reading all the social and regular media outpourings of affection for Sendak, I did go order a couple of his books. Is his writing really as dark as people say? I don’t remember that, I just remember it rhyming. Maybe I was the perfect audience, and this darkness people speak of just seemed normal. I’m curious to find out. I admire his line quality.
I also enjoyed reading several of the interviews he gave, about getting ready for death, and not believing in the concept of childhood.
One possibly unrelated anecdote: when I worked in a book store in college, we once had a store visit from a “wild thing” (one of our shorter managers in a rented costume). Parents could bring their kids and someone would read Where The Wild Things Are to them. One dad brought his two boys. When they came in the door, the older boy saw the wild thing and ran over to hug it. But the younger boy looked absolutely terrified. I have honestly never seen a reaction like it before or since. His eyes opened wide, he was instantly screaming and running for the door. Dad caught him and picked him up but that may have made it worse. He was trying to climb over his dad to get away. Meanwhile, our sweet manager is in the suit, trying to assure this kid that she was a friendly wild thing without any tools but simple costumed body language, and that just didn’t work. I think she might have had to take the head off.
Posted by
David Rhoden on 05/09 at 12:10 AM
Monday, May 7, 2012
So they tell me there are people who work—productively—from coffee shops. I have some work to do today so I thought I’d try it. I went to the one closest to where I’m staying, on Nassau Avenue in Brooklyn.
I enjoyed the parade of young women with laptops but otherwise it was just impossible. It’s too loud, there’s no room, the tables are wobbly, but then it got ridiculous.
A group of about six lawyers came in and decided to hold a meeting about zoning. On top of this, the place had satellite radio and it was on the eighties station. I heard “I Wanna New Drug” and “Ghostbusters” in a row—those are the same song. Now mix that with the chatter of lawyers. Now, Ms. DJ Martha Quinn, deliver the coup de grace: play"Never Gonna Give You Up”, unironically.
It was like inhabiting the most massive public rickroll, with no way to shut it down.
One of the lawyers said, “I really love the eighties soundtrack in here.”
Around that time the internet signal died. For me, anyway. It was a cue to go.
I’m back at my friend’s house, with kittens for company; I’m still trying to get the sound of Rick Astley out of my skull.
Back to New Orleans tonight.
Posted by
David Rhoden on 05/07 at 02:36 PM
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Visiting my old home of Brooklyn for the weekend. Jimmy and The Wolfpack played last night with The Big Con at Matchless; it was awesome, we played great despite having zero rehearsals (my flight got in at 4:30, the show was at 9). I hope somebody took a picture. Currently in a coffee shop in Greenpoint where I have heard some of the worst music (the best music I heard was Counting Crows, if that tells you anything). Going to buy some jeans since I inconveninently forgot to bring any and I’m wearing my suit pants.
Posted by
David Rhoden on 05/05 at 01:31 PM
