Vegas, Baby

I went to Vegas for 48 hours for my law job. I met some nice people and learned some things.

On the way out there, I edited prior shoots and read Nick Hornby’s Housekeeping v. The Dirt which made me laugh out loud in several places. My seatmates probably think I’m deranged, though not as much as the flight attendant who once asked me if I needed a sedative when I was reading The Notebook on a plane. In my defense, I was reading it as a college freshman during a time when my grandfather was struggling with Alzheimer’s disease, but still, it was pretty embarrassing. The ugly cry, as O would say.

I love Nick Hornby. I’ve read all of his books and in my imaginary life, our families have dinner together. I even listened to Fresh Air this morning {despite my dislike of Terry Gross’s gross questions} because he was on talking about his latest projects. It’s a nice interview you can listen to here. I love his work, but I love most what he has done in establishing Treehouse, with other parents. Treehouse is a London-based charity raising money to provide an educational center for children living with Autism.

PS- I’m so excited about President Obama’s announcement this week about long overdue money for Autism research. There will always be naysayers that the money should go elsewhere, but remember that Autism affects 1 in 125 children, but the funding is not there.
How does that play out? More info here at Autism Speaks.

On the flight home, I read The Best American Travel Writing 2008 edited by Anthony Bourdain. In the cable days, we watched Bourdain’s show No Reservations, so it was nice to read his introduction which aptly begins, “It has been said that the more one travels, the more one’s attention turns inward.”

I enjoyed the book, but it was a little darker than I anticipated. My favorite story in the anthology was Wheels of Fortune by Peter Hessler about driving cars in China. He writes:

“In China, after a minor accident, people usually settle the matter on the street, in cash. This routine has become a standard part of life – once, I saw two children playing a game in which they repeatedly rammed their bikes and shouted, ‘Pei quian! Pei quian!’ ‘Compensate! Compensate!’”

The lawyer in me, who has worked many car wreck cases in the past, just loves the idea of this.

I also liked this passage from the story when someone borrows his car and wrecks it:

“In the lot, a couple of villagers were staring at the car; they were grinning, too. The front bumper had been knocked completely off. It lay on the road, leaving the Jetta’s grille gaping, like a child who’s lost three teeth and can’t stop smiling. Why did everybody look so g.d. happy?”

The story Extreme Chocolate by Bill Buford (originally printed in The New Yorker) had high points too, like this quote about cocoa beans:

“I want surprises in my chocolate,” he explained. “I don’t want purity. I like peaks and valleys. Good beans, bad ones, the perfect and the flawed. Today, everyone wants the established names, the Ocumares, the Madagascars. I like getting in the truck and driving sixteen hours to a village that hasn’t replaced its original stock with the latest hybrid. Every bean has a story.”

And of course, the brilliant David Sedaris whose New Yorker story Journey Into Night is featured:
On flying Business Elite he writes:

“The first time I sat there…I found the whole ‘first-to-board’ business a little embarrassing, but then they brought me a bowl of hot nuts and I began to soften.”

It’s a great story. I would quote more passages, but you can read it in it’s entirety at The New Yorker by clicking here. Enjoy.