Dear Good Sense,

I humbly request that you not leave me when I need you most.  I mean, you (mostly*) stuck with me as I chatted with Adam and John on Friday night and Saturday morning, but you abandoned me as I strode toward the front of the Walnut Room and introduced myself to James Wood.  Like, seriously dude—seriously—what was up with that?

I was convinced that walking up to him and telling he was completely misreading William Gass was a good idea.  You should've been there, you know, to tell me that Wood would've listened politely for about thirty seconds before shuffling away from the garrulous guy with the evident chip on his shoulder. 

You would've consoled me.  Told me I was right and didn't need to prove it to anybody.  Instead, you were, well, where were you?  In the room, reading Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell?  Mourning the Tigers' loss?  Watching Boston break its own heart?  Seriously, I needed you tonight, but you were "too busy" to keep my mouth in check. 

It followed my brain.  Now I'm an ass. 

I mean, Opportunistic Careerism stood by me, so hopefully Wood'll remember the name emblazoned on my name tag instead of the one I proffered.  (What's the worst that can happen?  Wood can't have John caned now, can he?)  Still, I'm upset you deserted me, and continue to do so.  Don't you know what time it is?  No one with you would still be awake, yet here I am, watching Matt Damon foil the best laid plans of mousy bureaucrats ...

Yours,

SEK

*I've been told never to repeat that story.  I mean, I'd already been told not to, but now I have independent verification that it's not the sort of story I should tell. 

Comments

[John Emerson]

You seem to have developed my kamikaze networking powers independently, without instruction from me. I'm impressed.

[Ahistoricality]

If Mr. Woods had realized that you're one of the finest purveyors of hysterical realism in the blogosphere, he might have listened longer.

Your common sense really did desert you, though, if you tried to use a pseudonym in person while wearing a name tag!

[uncomplicatedly]

I mean, it could have been worse. You could have strode toward the front of the Walnut Room and introduced yourself to James Woods, who probably would have had even less patience for your critique of his reading of Gass. That guy, he stands by his work.

[Dan Collins]

What does James Woods know about being blue?

[eb]

Wait, so the ALSC is not the American League Series Championship? I need to get my acronyms sorted out.

[CR]

That's so funny. I had the same opportunity with the same person this summer, extended actually over a week rather than an hour. Beforehand, I was all about to plans to needle him on this issue and that reading, explain to him all that he's right about and all that he's not, etc etc etc. And then I got there, and introduced myself, but kept my mouth shut beyond that. This even despite total loadedness.

(Loaded, I have a very helpful self-preservation instinct that shuts me up, leads me to stare blankly and say "Right. Right. Right. Right" until the evening runs itself out... I actually did that with some of our British blog-rades lately - too much Kingfisher...)

Which I'm very thankful for. I have a feeling that he gets what you gave him all the time. Comes with the territory - being the last living real literary critic - I suppose. All the young turks turking about in his face. And also comes with his status of being someone who actually gets literature in a world in which very few do - almost no academics. Plus there's the knotty matter of his "politics" - literary / cultural politics, which are guaranteed to draw fire. So I wouldn't worry about it.

You should have told him about how the blogs are going to make him, and his entire way of life, superfluous in the next few minutes. That would have been hilarious. But anyway, yet another case of me being older, and if not wiser, then at least way shyer than you.

[Tim Lacy]

SEK,

[With pouty voice] Had you called me for coffee, I might have been able to save you from making a fool of yourself?! :) ... Perhaps not. Anyway, I hope you had a good time in Chicago otherwise!

- TL

[John Emerson]

Hey, where's the dirt on Kotsko and Holbo?