This Sunday night at 6pm in Renton, I do my first (being optimistic) reading from “Learning to Walk” as a benefit for REACH (Renton Ecumenical Association of Churches), an organization (and group of people) I much admire. Also, I’m free in the evenings.
This has been sort of a puzzle, as if I’m reading from a recipe book; no particular section or chapter works particularly well on its own, at least without a set-up, and there’s a lot there anyway. It’s kept me busy, murdering perfectly fine jokes because they lead me down a trail that ends up with a two-hour presentation. I would have to also sing and play the banjo to pull that off, and my banjo skills are minimal.
This is not the only puzzle around here this week, including that I just realized I left chicken in the slow cooker for about 18 hours (it’s still moist and looks fine, but you gotta wonder), and my wife left her iPad on the plane to Austin and so far we don’t know where it is (airlines flying to Austin are a little busy this week, with SXSW taking off).
There are other mysteries of minor sorts, including missing bowls, which John and I solved by buying more ($2 apiece!) and various other missing things, all of which can be attributed to a house that bases most of its organization – using the word loosely, and really inappropriately – on the female part of our trio. She probably knows where the ladle is, etc.
Although she can’t explain why I have now two recycle bins. I’m assuming I brought in the cans one dark night from the street, but even that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Was I on autopilot? What kept me from stealing all the recycle bins on the street?
I’ve kept the extra outside the garage, hoping one of my neighbors might recognize it, but they all look alike, really. Not a lot of individual cans out there. No help from residue on the bottom, either (empty 12-packs of Diet Rite would be me; beer cans somebody else, but these were clean). I need Columbo, or Sherlock, or one of the CSI people.
Other than the above, though, we’ve managed our XX gap as we always do, knowing she’s having Grandma fun and we’re doing a bunch ‘o’ slow cooking, along with marathon conversations and many servings of bananas, which are good sources of potassium and just fun to eat anyway.
But the focus is on Sunday, my primary responsibility not to bore anyone and to practice signing my name so it doesn’t resemble my third-grade penmanship and more my fifth-grade variety.
And then we’re back to finding more local venues for book stuff, and an article coming out regarding the book, and a radio interview, and none of this means much, although exciting. Having lived through the long process of creating an independent film that people seemed to like but still won’t make much noise, I have no fantasies of noise makers.
But it exists, as do I, and John, and I imagine my wife’s iPad, somewhere, along with some questionable chicken-like substance, and I would say OK to all that. And bananas.
A video I made yesterday. No puppets were harmed.