• Bridge Ladies

    Bridge Ladies When I set out to learn about my mother's bridge club, the Jewish octogenarians behind the matching outfits and accessories, I never expected to fall in love with them. This is the story of the ladies, their game, their gen, and the ragged path that led me back to my mother.
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If You Don’t Know Me By Now



So nice to hear from so many of you. Sorry to read about losses, too.

I always hated people who said, Thank got it’s Friday. Or hump day. Or Monday is the new Thursday. Or who talked around the “water cooler,” or talked about the weather as if observing rain were original or interesting. Unless it was like two nights ago. Do you feel me? When I was in Miami for the book fair, a young woman got up at the Q&A and read a poem. I would have never done that in my entire life, which has made me re-evaluate my entire life.

Ballsy or obnoxious?

14 Responses

  1. I feel you. A couple lifetimes ago, I used to read sexually-explicit prose (it was art, damn it! bleeding-edge* litrachurr!) at poetry open mikes. It was both ballsy and obnoxious. Probably more the other than the one.

    (*Remember the bleeding edge? Aren’t you glad they put a band-aid on that?)

  2. Placing my ballot in the Obnoxious Box, unless that Young Snowflake misunderstood Q&A to mean Quick & Awkward. Now, I want to know your response. (PS: glad you have returned to this fest. The fake news world is a cold place.)

  3. How good was the poem?

  4. Yes – definitely feel you on that.

    If she didn’t say, “I know you write poetry, and rather than ask you a question, in honor of you being here, I’d like to read a bit of poetry.”

    Otherwise, most definitely obnoxious. And I’m curious too, like amyg, was it any good? And what the hell did you say when she sat down? “Well. Alrighty then.” (?)

  5. Obnoxious. Did the lines rhyme?

  6. Obnoxious. Better than outside your bathroom stall, but obnoxious.

  7. Dear Betsy, I Reckon It Depends On The Poet. Just Finished A Bio Of Robert Duncan, & Poetry Or Prose, He Went On ‘Til Stopped, & Even After. Methinks Betsy Is A Poet. Ever Hear The Morrissey Song, “Sister I’m A Poet,”? Or, “The Girl Least Likely To. . ” Thank You For The Dylan Quote Above, & For Mr. Clegg Ref For My My Late Friend, A True Poet. I Also Send Regards From A Mutual Friend, The Dynamo, Suzanne Kingsbury. God Bless. Sean Andrew Heaney

  8. I’m always kind of envious of people who have enough confidence in their own work to get up and share it with everyone. I attended the launch of the journal my story was published in recently and quite a few people got up and read excerpts from their pieces. I didn’t. Partly because I couldn’t choose the best section of a long story that wouldn’t give away the end, but partly because I hate standing in front of crowds. My legs always shake! Having said that, I’m much more confident about letting people read my work since going to uni and workshopping, and having so much positive feedback. And also because I won the literary award for the story that was published.

  9. Not only was it obnoxious it was stupid and I should know. I’ve been hit by the stupid stick quite a few times in my life. Problem is reality shows up after the bruise turns from purple to puce.

  10. she sounds young. i’d forgive her transgressions. if she were old and hogging the mic i’d probably wing my shoe at her but that says more about me. #impatient

  11. It would have depended on when I had my last shot of caffeine. Emotional disengagement works well, and even better with the edge-sharpening effects of caffeine. In case something explodes, the caffeine allows one to dance aside from the collateral splatter that might occur with the slicing and dicing of said alleged violator.

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