Inspiration often comes from quirky conversations at his book signings. Lockdowns shut that door, and took away the audiences. “Without a live audience—that unwitting congregation of fail-safe editors—I’m lost,” he writes.
“It’s not just their laughter I pay attention to but also the quality of their silence. As for noises, a groan is always good in my opinion. A cough means that if they were reading this passage on the page, they’d be skimming now, while a snore is your brother-in-law putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger.” His partner, Hugh, is no help. “Hugh and I have vastly different senses of humor—this is to say that I have one and he doesn’t.”
Yet he considers himself “Lucky-Go-Happy,” the title of the final essay; lucky not to get Covid, and lucky audiences returned. Though one essay is full of jokes he hears at book events (most of which would not garner prudish Hugh’s approval), Sedaris is also lucky to have family cohesion in the wake of the suicide of one of his sisters and the death of his father, who had ceaselessly ridiculed his son almost until the end.
“By the second half of his ninety-seventh year, the man was a pussycat, a delight. Unfortunately there were all those years that preceded it. … As long as my father had power, he used it to hurt me.”
Sedaris marches for Black Lives Matter, then skewers the excesses of wokeism—and social distancing. “‘Back off!’ a certain type of person would snarl if you stood only five feet and eleven inches away from them.”
There’s a kind of wistfulness here, a yearning in his seventh decade for a time (now lost?) when we can laugh at our foibles without sending one another into exile.
Chico Performances presents “An Evening With David Sedaris,” Thursday, November 6, 7:30 p.m. at Chico State’s Laxson Auditorium. For ticket information visit tinyurl.com/bdfryuz5.