Noodle, my mystery commenter, asked recently “how my battle of the bulge,” was going. To you Noodle, I say, okay, with 20lbs. down and at least 20 more to go, but compared to Halle Berry, I’m still a battleship rolling onward. Are you thin, Noodle? I’m just asking.
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| T.C. Boyle. Photo courtesy Amrei-Marie. |
I broke out of this condo life and visited Boswell Bookshop on Downer to listen to T.C. Boyle talk about writing and how he got from there to here. Milwaukee was his second stop on his current book tour, the first being Manhattan and the next Minneapolis. He made a joke about visiting only cities beginning with “M.” Talk about thin, Boyle’s shoulder blades were visible through the back of his yellow sport coat. For some reason, I expected him to be short, but he’s tall. The night he spoke at Boswell he sported red hi-top sneakers. Dude. In his left ear? A gold cuff. His hair isn’t so much hair, rather it frizzles and crackles, electrified like the man who wears it.
Anyway, my fave writer was very entertaining, and the packed to the rafters crowd kept Daniel, Boswell’s boss, busy humping extra chairs. Joel McNally was there in the audience, and poet/writer/artist Ed Makowski too. Ed (formerly Eddie Kilowatt) will appear at Boswell, along with other poets, in March. This Wednesday meet with panelists to select a new “Narrator” for the Pfister’s ongoing blog-o-rama. Julie Ferris, our debut pick, will be packing up her pencils and exiting to make way for yet more talent, but I see that she’s staying on as a panelist. Last year we had quite a few qualified applicants, including Tom Bamberger, a frequent contributor to Milwaukee Magazine. I hope he is back this year for another shot at the gig, which pays $1,000 per month. Not bad. The Narrator series is similar to the visual art residency, but with pencils instead of paint. Painter Shelby Keefe nailed that slot for the coming year.
Things have been condo-quiet recently as residents wait out this endless winter, though here and there signs of spring are springing and there has been a little more action in the halls. My dear neighbors and their three little boys will be moving on to a gorgeous new home soon and then it will really be dead on floor 17. Just me and the gulls looking for signs of spring.
In order to fight cabin fever, I joined the condo book club and found myself swept up in presenting the first event, a review of T.C.Boyle’s The Women, a romp with Frank Lloyd Wright and his various loves. It’s loaded with references to Wisconsin, plus plenty of sex among the rolling hills around Spring Green. I recommend it, (the book) though I liked The Road to Wellville even more. There’s nothing quite like a tale about enemas in the area around Battle Creek, Michigan. It’s odd, but for a thin guy, Boyle really dishes about food in his novels. He’s sort of a cross between Dickens, an Iron Chef and the Tasmanian Devil. I wrote a review of The Women for thirdcoastdigest.com. It’s there, should you care.
What I wouldn’t give for a heap of mashed potatoes swimming in gravy, with a side of cheese curds. Yeah, right.
