The next time David Sedaris comes
to Kansas, I think I will invite him to dinner. I’ll have to clean my house, of
course, give it that extra little sparkle befitting a celebrity. It may
actually require that I follow through on a few of those upgrades. Not that I
think Sedaris would feel himself too good to come to dinner in my built-circa 1902 abode/not in the quaint vintage, historical site-worthy sense. I just wouldn’t
want any soft spots in the kitchen floor where a petite author like Sedaris might
actually disappear!
Though I didn’t exactly mind
sharing Sedaris with an audience of 1,000, and I rather enjoyed sharing him
with my dear hubby and a few of my closest friends, it was hard to stop
thinking of him as just another person in my life whose stories I collect.
Perhaps because he is an author who records his own work, and I heavily favor Sedaris
when I am looking for audio book material, I forget, I suppose, that he has not
actually been my co-pilot on dozens of road trips across Kansas and beyond.
I had to remind myself that Sedaris
has legions of fans who devour every word he has written, though I half-imagined
myself special enough that he might look up and say, “Hey, Tracy, how have you
been?” While we were waiting, the lady in line behind me informed me that David
Sedaris had saved her life. I had to admit that my connection wasn’t quite that deep.
I wore my “I love Emporia” shirt
to the event, and Sedaris did ask what Emporia was, so maybe he would welcome an invite to a fresh and local market meal at my house. I explained that Emporia was
the center of the universe, of course, though I don't think he really got it. I wanted to tell him so much more, but
it was time for him to address his audience.
When I invite David Sedaris to dinner, the next
time he comes to Kansas, I’ll make sure there is time to show him a few of the
cool things about my town and more. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an urge to write some irreverent stories about my family.