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Yet another trip to Books-A-Million

I went by BAM tonight to see if the copy of After The Hangover  I'd ordered had come in. This was not a good idea. I'm very busy right now, and they told me they'd call me when they had it. But it had been over a week and I hadn't heard anything, so I thought somehow I had missed the message.

It hadn't come in. I couldn't resist some browsing (another reason it was a bad idea to go.) I saw a hardback copy of Holidays On Ice by David Sedaris for just five dollars. I don't own a single one of his books, and part of me is a little resistant to him.  He is on NPR a lot (or so people who listen to NPR tell me) and he just seems like the ultimate writer that white people like. 

But it's probably fairer to judge an author by his actual work than by the annoying hipsters and yuppies that like him. I've read exactly one piece by him. It was in humor anthology I used to own called Mirth Of A Nation. I didn't remember the title, but it was a mock review of elementary school Christmas pageants by a very snobbish and cranky theatre critic. It was pretty funny. Unfortunately, I gave the book away to a stuff drive for soldiers they were having at work. It was pretty funny, so I decided it would be worth five bucks for one of Sedaris's books.

After my purchase I sat down at a table in the food court and started reading the book jacket. It turns out that this was a set of essays about Christmas. And it included the piece that was in Mirth Of A Nation. The title is Front Row Center with Thaddeus Bristol. I'm really looking forward to reading it again, but I might wait for the holidays. After all, nothing captures the meaning of Christmas like a cranky old man saying mean things about schoolchildren. Especially when he has such a Dickensian name.

It was such a nice twist of fate to get  back a little piece of the book I gave  away a few years ago. Especially since it was  hard to part with it. It was like literary bread on the waters. I felt like I was getting a lesson about the Christmas spirit in May. And you can't roll your eyes at that, because I got the lesson in a very hip postmodern way.

God bless us, every one.