Status: Completed (272 pages)

Recommend: Can't go wrong

Review:
I don't use the word "coincidence" any longer, at least in my speech. Mentally, there's occasionally an unwelcome force that wants me to entertain the notion, in fact buy tickets for both a matinee and late showing, but I have been better than I anticipated at removing those nagging thoughts.

I mention this because although I had heard of David Sedaris over the years, and could even likely mention him as an "essayist," I'd feel less than truthful in professing knowledge of him. However, while on a road trip in Monterey, and thus with access to network TV, I happened to catch an interview with DS on the Stephen Colbert show. Well now I'm just slightly exaggerative in professing knowledge! Just a few weeks after this, I was on the standard jaunt through Baras thriftstore, perusing their books, when I came across "Me Talk Pretty One Day." For $0.50, it was a no-brainer. Having read it, I hope to soon profess my true knowledge.

About the book...yes, fun and quick. A memoir, nicely presented as a look back at childhood in the first half, and musings about his current life in the second half. DS, clearly highly intelligent, struggles often with the difficult decision of what to do with his life, and amusingly finds himself in various degrees of artistic pomposity. I truly enjoyed, moreso realizing several weeks after completing the book, his (perhaps hindsight-induced) levity at dealing with the vagaries of growing up. The vicissitudes, to use a word I've come across lately.

I shared a belief that life will work out great as long as I let it happen, and not get in the way too much. It's truly a freeing approach, if one can stick with it. Alas, as I easily admit now, I got greedy. Not strictly in a monetary sense (having never had enough to greedily stash), but certainly no longer allowing Life to remain in control and trust the process. I firmly believe today it's the only approach to life that allows one true freedom. There is simply too many unknowns, too many people making decisions in which I've no say nor knowledge, too much influence from forces way more powerful than me, to wrest a path of freedom. It just simply must come. The Stoic "accept your lot" philosophy of sorts. It's challenging to see DS as a role model in this sort, for me, no matter how often he demonstrates it. I'll admit bias here, but given his intelligence, his strong family connections, his socio- economic background, it seems easy for him. He has, it seems, always a support to strengthen his levity, support external to him. All this means that it's likely he could not have been my entry into a life of levity, but having found it myself, I nonetheless enjoy the hell out of reading his version of it. Maybe I'm just jealous he seems to have never lost it, even with some similiar behaviours. I am open to that possibility. I applaud him all the same, and thank him for sharing his talent.

A wonderful, speedy, light, fun, checkbox, no-regrets read. I would read his other offerings in a heartbeat.

Good Quotes:
After a few months in my parents' basement, I took an apartment near the state university, where I discovered both crystal methamphetamine and conceptual art. Either one of these things is dangerous, but in combination they have the potential to destroy entire civilizations. The moment I took my first burning snootful, I understood that this was the drug for me. Speed eliminates all doubt. Am I smart enough? Will people like me? Do I really look all right in this plastic jumpsuit? These are questions for insecure potheads. A speed enthusiast knows that everything he says or does is brilliant. (pg 44)

This was the art world I'd been dreaming of, where God-given talent was considered an unfair advantage and a cold- blooded stare merited more praise than the ability to render human flesh. Everything around me was art, from the stains in my bathtub to the razor blade and short length of drinking straw I used to cut and ingest my speed. I was back in the world with a clear head and a keen vision of just how talented I really was. (pg 46)

Speed heats the brain to a full boil, leaving the mouth to function as a fulminating exhaust pipe. I talked until my tongue bled, my jaws gave out, and my throat swelled up in protest. (pg 46)

"Why is it always your piece?" we asked. As leader, it was his fate to be punished for having the very qualities we admired in the first place. (pg 50)

Nothing I said would change her mind. I cashed in a savings bond left to me by my grandmother and use the money to buy what I hoped would be enough speed to get me through a month. It was gone in ten days, and with it went my ability to do anything but roll on the floor and cry. (pg 55)

Thinking I must have dropped a grain or two, I vacuumed the entire apartment with a straw up my nose, sucking up dead skin cells, Comet residue, and pulverized cat litter. Anything that traveled on the bottom of a shoe went up my nose. (pg 56)

A week after putting her to sleep, I received Neil's ashes in a forest green can. She'd never expressed any great interest in the outdoors, so I scattered her remains on the carpet and then vacuumed her back up. (pg 80)

When asked "What do we need to learn this for?" any high-school teacher can confidently answer that, regardless of the subject, the knowledge will come in handy once the student hits middle age and starts working crossword puzzles in order to stave off the terrible loneliness. Because it's true. Latin, geography, the gods of ancient Greece and Rome: unless you know these things, you'll be limited to doing the puzzles in People magazine, where the clues read "Movie title, Gone ______ the Wind" and "It holds up your pants." It's not such a terrible place to start, but the joy of accomplishment wears off fairly quickly. (pg 201)