If you loved Fifty Shades of Gray and hate people making fun of it, don’t watch this. (Thanks, Kelly Sonnack, for posting on Facebook.)

 

Regina Brooks, founder of Serendipity Literary in NYC came on the show mid-November to talk about publishing, her books, and so much else.  Such an engaging and generous guest.

Download audio.

(Broadcast date: November 14, 2012)

Love this essay in the New York Times (and thanks to my friend, Randy, for alerting me to it).

Every writer should listen to this podcast on publishing that I caught on KPCC yesterday.

A woman approached me in the men’s underwear department at Target today. I buy the guys in my house underwear for Christmas; it’s tradition, just as we open the gift containing pjs on Christmas Eve. Buying for Brian has become increasingly difficult because he doesn’t wear pajamas enough to warrant buying a new pair every year, and he already got Calvin Klein Christmas themed narrow jockeys.

I’m deliberating between the gray/red/navy jockeys and the blue, gray and dark blue package when a woman appeared beside me, in her 50s, maybe younger but worn down from living on the street and who knows what else. Tissues were wrapped around the fingers of her right hand. She was braless; under her loose tee-shirt her breasts hung low.

“Uh, huh, I need some of these,” she said, gesturing toward a package of white jockeys. “You get these for me?”

“Is this what you want?” I said. She was obviously female. Was she transgender? I didn’t think so. I must’ve looked puzzled because she mumbled, “I’m homeless. I need a front opening for going to the bathroom outside. I don’t want to pull my pants down outside!”

“Where do you live?” I said.

“I’m waiting for my SSI check,” she said, “but it’s just that this pain…”

“Are these what you want, then?”

“Yeah, uh huh.”

Was she supposed to walk around with me as I picked out undies, and whatever else.

“Want to meet out front?” I said.

“What, 10, 15 minutes?”

“I’ll see you then.”

Fifteen minutes later I checked out. “Put these in a separate bag,” I asked the check out lady.

The door swung open. The benches around the entrance were vacant. She was way down at the other entrance. She was shaking out her shoe, sitting back, shifting again on the bench.

As I approached her, she did a double take. Her shopping cart piled high but looking clean and tidy stood nearby.

“I thought I missed ya,” she said.

I handed off the bag with the underwear. “Good luck to you,” I said.

I drove down Harbor Boulevard thinking about that woman and indoor bathrooms and feeling sad for her. When I told Brian, he said, “It puts all of our problems into perspective, doesn’t it?”

It does. It really does.

I have never seen one bad TED talk. My friend Randy Kraft sent me this link. I didn’t know the author Richard Ford had dyslexia, nor had I seen Joel Meyerowitz’s photographs of Ground Zero. Stay with this one until the end.