Well, since I can’t tell you my good news yet (I’ll give you a hint – it has to do with a “g” word rather than a “b” word) I’ll give you a funny anecdote instead…
Yesterday, I went to my doctor and then to get my hair cut (sounds like a weird combination, but they are right next door to each other, and since I had to get some more tests done for my weird fever situation, I thought I might get my hair done as well.) The first thing I thought, after talking with a new doc at the office and then to a new hairdresser, is that if doctors listened as well as hairdressers, we would all be in better health. (No offense, Peter or C. Dale. I’m sure you are both great listeners 😉
My new hairstylist had recently visited Chile with friends, one of whom offered to take her on a tour of Pablo Neruda’s homes. We talked about how important poetry was to the culture there. Then she said, “ARE there any American poets?” And I said, “Yes, but they’re all in hiding at universities.”
This conversation led me to think that maybe all those studies showing people just aren’t aware of contemporary poetry are right on. Perhaps poets should join an American Idol tour or something. Or we should create a show called “So You Think You Can Write…” My dream judging panel would be Louise Gluck or Margaret Atwood (for the strict one) Denise Duhamel (the bubbly one) and maybe Bob Hicok (the one who has the feel-good factor but says things that make very little sense.)
Would you watch that show?
Leaving tomorrow for Portland again, be back Monday…