I like to take my inspiration from current events, and yesterday was somewhat full of them, and today, I watched a humdrum session of the House of Representives on C-span, so logically, I should be writing about politics (again).
However, yesterday, on the History Channel, they did a feature on the Battle of Blair Mountain, which was quite stirring, and it prompted me to look up the "Veterans' Bonus March" from the early years of the previous century. If one endorses or protests the Limbaugh/Bush brand of conservatism, there's plenty of interesting information to be Googled up from those two incidents alone.
Anyway, I decided that if I tried to be political today, I might get too emotional and insult somebody. I would never want to do that, now would I?
So, having admired Susan Wittig Albert for a very long time, I have now become her friend, through our mutual connections with Facebook. So now, I present one of my boring anecdotes which was written a number of years ago, as you can see.
Last evening I hurried home from work, eagerly anticipating a pleasant evening with Susan Wittig Albert. My wife had discovered her books some time ago, and was a devoted fan. I had heard Susan at the local bookstore in our town, and liked her manner of speaking. I expected to have a good time.
We went to Austin for a regular meeting of “Story Circle Network”, which was a project of Susan’s, and which I thought was probably just a bunch of local Austin people. Apparently it is a national organization of readers and writers. Tonight they were featuring Susan Wittig Albert.
I stood around, waiting for my entourage (my wife and my daughter Rie) to buy some books, and chat with the author.
While I stood there, I was invited to the refreshment table, and generally treated as if I may have been lost and needed to be found. I have rarely seen so much concern for my welfare. I began to feel guilty about blocking traffic. Until after the meeting started, I was the only one there with a masculine appendage, then a couple of guys came in and sat inconspicuously in the back.
The meeting went well, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. In a raffle, I won a book A Woman’s Guide to Success Off the Career Track. Work of Her Own, a non-fiction work by Susan Wittig Albert.
After the meeting, I confronted Susan to sign the book, as she had promised. She offered to leave my name off, so that I could give it to someone. I asked her “Why would I want to give my book to someone?”, so I have a woman’s guide to success with “to Willie” on the flyleaf.
Immediately after I got my book signed, I looked for a place to dump a couple of cups of ice which my wife and daughter had left in the meeting room. Not seeing a proper receptacle, I ducked into the men’s restroom, and dumped out the ice, putting the cups in the wastebasket. Knowing that I’d have a more comfortable trip home if I got some pre-trip relief, I quickly stood over the bowl, and, in mid-stream, I heard the door open behind me, a quick “oops”, and the door closed again.
When I left the restroom (as soon as possible) I apologized to the handsome lady, standing in line at the door to the women’s room, for my neglect in leaving the door unlatched. She replied that she spends a lot of time in the place, and to find a man in that building is something of a novelty. I guess that in the Austin area, one has to be a woman to be literate.