I had my first real signing this past Saturday, at Strawberry Fest in Cedarburg. Here I am, in my sunscreen-less glory. Things went well! I met many lovely people, and we sold out of every copy of Driving Sideways that Creekside Books had in stock. However, I had stiff competition from the book propped to my right: do you see what it is? Here, let me zoom in for you:
I was very nearly upstaged by Walter the Farting Dog. If I kept a running tally of the number of people who stopped to giggle at this, I would have sprained my wrist. At one point I actually said to a couple, "Hey, my book has fart jokes in it, too!" Thankfully, they laughed. And then they kept walking. Later, I would discover more books on the history of the fart propped to my right. And earlier in the week, there was this with my friend L, during some drop-in signings at Milwaukee area bookstores:
I may as well embrace the fart. Because clearly, there is no escape.
I must soon leave this air-conditioned, Internet-connected Building of the Future for my sweaty, disconnected hovel, but before I do, some commentary on things I'm digging or not digging:
Funny Games, starring Naomi Watts. Not so much with the digging. I'd say it was violent and pointless, but that's the whole point.
Girls in Trucks by Katie Crouch. Digging so much I want to mainline it. In fact, I want to cut this post short so I can go home and binge on it some more.
Diary of the Dead. Meh. I love zombie flicks, in general (strange, isn't it? I wonder why that is...), but this is only for Die Hard Romero fans.
I haven't been watching much TV, but I do have a nagging feeling that new seasons for Flight of the Conchords and Mad Men are both about to begin. These shows? I dig them. Immensely.I haven't been listening to much new music either, but I am going to see Trampled by Turtles live this Thursday. I don't so much dig them as want to marry them all. (J, you won't mind, will you?)