Me Talk Pretty to David Sedaris

What: David Sedaris Live
Where: Torrington, Connecticut
Who: My Father and Me

I have heard many times that Connecticut is a stopover between New York and Boston. And while in many cases that may be true, every now and then there can be something fantastic there. Case in point being that David Sedaris made a stop on his recent tour there (while skipping New York City all together). However, he will be in New York City at the Apollo Theater on November 1st.

And while I have read three of his books (currently on the fourth), I had never heard him live. Many of my friends and family members make fun of me because I have a talent crush on him. He never ceases to amaze me the way he can string thoughts and feelings together with humor so seamlessly. However, I will be the first to say that I do not appreciate all of his work, some of it is not quite my humor.

On April 8th I took the train from Grand Central to New Haven, where I was picked up by my father (he got me the tickets for Christmas) and we drove about an hour to Torrington, Connecticut, where David Sedaris was performing a the Warner Theatre.

After a quick cocktail we filed in to the sixth row with hundreds of other NPR listeners. This is one of the things I admire so much about Mr. Sedaris, his ability to make astute observations about humans, more often than not in a crass way, while making the entirety of National Public Radio’s audience laugh. Older men and women who would never dream of laughing at Kathy Griffin or Chris Rock do find this author quite funny.

Mr. Sedaris is slightly on the shorter side, middle-aged, with blonde hair. When speaking candidly he appears slightly timid, but as soon as he starts to tell a story or read a piece aloud it is as though another being has taken control of his body. He is charismatic, witty, and wildly entertaining. The quality of his voice, that can be lost in his books, is in full force.

He read excerpts from his journal, new essays he was working on, and works by another author. The latter was lacking in humor to me and I personally enjoyed his work. The term “motha fucka” was uttered at least two dozen times and Mr. Sedaris saying it is humorous enough, let alone all of the upper-middle class middle aged men and women rolling on the floor laughing at it. He talks of food being labeled with odd English terms in foreign countries as though they opened up an English Dictionary and pointed to the first two words they saw instead of looking up the term for Game Hen.

Afterwards, David (let's call him that as though we are friends) waited until every single person received an autograph. I was the last person since I had gone to the bar next door with my father to kill time. Two hours late I met him and his partner Hugh (who he often writes about – usually about all the skills Hugh has and he wonders how he ever managed to end up with him). They were delightful and while I am sure they talked to everyone for as long as they spoke to me for (a solid 7 minutes), I secretly hoped we had became good friends. I stumbled and stuttered to try to have a good conversation, of which I am sure I failed miserably. He knows my father bought me the tickets, that I live in New York City where I work in Finance, and that I want to be a writer. All things I am sure would make us the best of friends, but I am not so sure he will agree too. Since, I know so much about him (via his books) it seemed only natural that he should know the essentials about me.

I also hoped that he will see this blog (a hard feat for someone who does not own a computer).

So I implore you to go, see David Sedaris and laugh with him.

I also implore you to go to Connecticut where there is grass, real live animals, and the price of everything is relatively free. It makes you hate people just a little bit less than you do when you are in the city for too long.

Goals Accomplished:
1) Never heard an author speak
2) Not really uncomfortable...just when the word "Motha Fucka" was on repeat and I was sitting next to my father
3) Learned that even NPR listeners can enjoy crudeness