Tonight, maybe even as you are reading this post, I’m watching author Carl Hiaasen speak.
I drove over two hours to attend the event and ever since I bought the tickets a couple of weeks ago, I’ve been looking forward to the evening.
I’ve written before about how much I enjoy author events, but apparently not everyone feels the same way.
Several times over the past fortnight (I don’t think I’ve ever used the word “fortnight” before. I feel very literary.) I’ve mentioned my plans to colleagues and friends.
“I’m driving over to the theater in Portsmouth next week,” I’d say.
My colleague or friend would respond, “Who are you going to see?”
“He’s an author.”
Then the other person would change the subject.
One particularly sarcastic colleague replied, “Well that sounds like a rocking good time.”
Perhaps because I work in the arts people assume that if I’m traveling several hundred miles to a show, it must be cutting edge or hip.
Or at least extraordinarily entertaining.
They obviously don’t know me very well if they think I have cutting edge taste. Or if they don’t know that I think authors are extraordinarily entertaining.
So maybe I’m not exactly “rocking” out right now. Maybe Carl Hiaasen is reading from his latest book. Or maybe he’s answering a question about his writing process. Or maybe he’s sharing a story from one of his book tours.
But no matter what he’s doing, you can bet that I am definitely having a good time.
I don’t need Mick Jagger. I’ve got Carl Hiaasen.