Bourbon Cowboy

The adventures of an urbane bar-hopping transplant to New York.

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Location: New York, New York, United States

I'm a storyteller in the New York area who is a regular on NPR's "This American Life" and at shows around the city. Moved to New York in 2006 and am working on selling a memoir of my years as a greeting card writer, and (as a personal, noncommercial obsession) a nonfiction book called "How to Love God Without Being a Jerk." My agent is Adam Chromy at Artists and Artisans. If you came here after hearing about my book on "This American Life" and Googling my name, the "How to Love God" book itself isn't in print yet, and may not even see print in its current form (I'm focusing on humorous memoir), but here's a sample I've posted in case you're curious anyway: Sample How To Love God Introduction, Pt. 1 of 3. Or just look through the archives for September 18, 2007.) The book you should be expecting is the greeting card book, about which more information is pending. Keep checking back!

Friday, January 25, 2008

Fame! I'm Going to Be Adjacent to People Who Will Live Forever

You know what I love about this town? Here's a lovely example. Early this morning I was doing my usual visits to my regular blogs (Talking Points Memo, Washington Monthly, Andrew Sullivan, Dan Savage) when (thanks to Dan Savage) I saw this terrific clip from a documentary about a gay woman's fight to get a pension for her partner. Watch it here.

This evening, I joined my friends Francis and Lorinne (and her husband, whose name I keep shamefully forgetting) to see Kid Beyond in concert, and when I was hanging out at the t-shirt table afterwards, a producer of this very film came by to say howdy. (Robin Honan, I think.) Apparently, it's been nominated for an Academy Award! Details are here. (Also, I was told there's a showing here in town before the actual Awards night, but I don't see it on the site. Anyway, I have my fingers crossed. Here's hoping they're not up against any short films about the Holocaust.)

By the way, a few days ago I was at a really fun concert by a band named Coney Island Swan Dive (they do country versions of 80s songs; much pleasure was had!), when my friend Tracy (or possibly her friend Halley) pointed out that Mike Myers was sitting right behind us. He was also hanging out in front of the bar when we left; he was so close I could have touched his symmetrically-parted hair. It was odd, though, because apparently the rule in New York is to never notice or even look at celebrities--even reacting marks you as a tourist--so I only got brief blurry glimpses. So every time I was tempted to look, my friends gave me conniption warnings. But it was definitely him, and the sumbitch hasn't a speck of gray on him. Very impressive.

After two years in New York, this is only the second celebrity sighting I've had, ever since a few months back when I sat behind Stephen Root at the terrific Broadway play August: Osage County. And even then my friend Leslie had to point him out. (Thanks, Leslie!) Then, of course, I could stare fiercely, since it was only the back of his head. When I visited Los Angeles a few years ago, I noticed that people move there to live out their dreams, only to be embarrassed by their success when they make it ("I sing, but it's in a commercial," etc.). In New York, apparently you come here to recognize celebrities that you are then embarrassed to actually look at. What an odd place this is.



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