CPCC Reading and I Am Not Deaf

Okay. So I was going to be all literary and blog about the poetry reading, but Heather has forced me to face my aging.

First, we blog the CPCC Literary Festival (oh wait! I mean, the CPCC Arts Festival because after Irene Blair Honeycutt left they gutted the literary bit and threw in some other arts). Since there are fewer lit events and I have the hell schedule this semester, I only got to A. Van Jordan's reading, which was well worth it and gives me a little hope for the festival--the sparse crowd cast doubts on that glimmer. Beyond the fact that I have a special place in my heart for people who use an initial for their first name--so many people drop it or think its pretentious to hold on to that initial and to them I say, screw you, that's my first name and it's not going away. Anyway. A. Van Jordan gave a great read with personas from Einstein to Richard Pryor.

Anyway, so that was all literate and whatnot. But then, Heather goes on and on (Heather resents this representation) about this noise kids (kids these days!) are using for cell phone ringtones because it is at a frequency too high for old ears to hear, so they could be sitting in class and get a call without the teacher knowing it. First, as a teacher--those bastards! Secondly, I was very afraid I would not be able to hear it and thus old and thus closer to death, etc. But I heard, thank God Almighty, I heard it. That's right I am not old. Or I am at the very least not deaf. You hear that Death! So here is the noise.

Just kidding, here's the real noise. If you can't hear it...you my friend are old. My condolences.

The Place of Graffiti and Snake Handling Kids

So yesterday I gave a reading at a great coffee shop called Bohemia Coffee in West Jefferson, NC. There was a fun crowd, and I got to read with my friend Julie Townsend, who years ago hosted the first coffee shop reading I ever read at. I also sold a couple books and got to hang out in the mountains. Julie wants to live in the mountains. I tried to imagine it, but I judge a place based on its graffiti.

A comparison of graffiti:

Charlotte, Picasso's Sports Bar: "I'm like a Red M&M, I'm misunderstood."
Nashville, Fido coffee shop, over the automatic papertowel dispenser: "'Hal, please give me another towel.' 'I'm afraid I can't do that, Dave.'"
Greensboro, coffee shop: "Wait here. I'll be right back. --Godot"
West Jefferson, KFC: "Democrats=Blacks, Gays, Natsi Women"

Yeah, it's not exactly scientific, but I'll pass on the West Jefferson. It also reminded me of the snake handling lecture I went to last week at the University. Norris Frederick, with wit, delivered a thoughtful look at the question of whether we can consider snake handling a language of God, using as reference William James. Later one of Heather's friends stopped us outside the grocery store. As the friend's son spun around in a circle with a pizza box held above his head, all I could see was that lecture's video. The expression on the face of the faithful and this kid were the same. I always suspected kids are snake handlers.

What Horribly Repulsive Thing Did a Clown Ever Do To You?

So everyone’s heard by now that clowns are out. This article about how kids hate clowns says that 100% of the kids surveyed disliked—I’m sorry, “universally disliked,” or my favorite: found clowns “unknowable.” Truer words never spoken or written or bubbled in on a survey. Who can really “know” a clown? I do, however, find the idea that kids don’t love clowns hard to believe. After all, in response to this study some clowns have pointed out that this study only included 250 children. Probably scaredy-cat children. Clowns are the bedrock of childhood. Clowns are the bedrock of our economy. Surely we see the connection with lack of love for clowns and the subprime debacle.

As further evidence, there’s one of my favorite movies Killer Klowns from Outer Space. What could say kid bait more than clowns, science fiction, and cocooning people in cotton candy? If you ask me it’s kids these days that are creepy and not clowns.