fauxklore (fauxklore) wrote,
fauxklore
fauxklore

Loss, Ghosts, and Light Reading

I keep intending to write here more, but I have been absurdly busy at work. And, of course, I try to have a life other than work.

Death of a Friend: Bob Rovinsky, who I knew from Voices in the Glen and was privileged to have shared storytelling stages with from time to time, died Thursday of last week after a massive heart attack several days earlier. He was a good man, heavily involved in several local Jewish communities, and had been particularly helpful when my mother died. I will miss him dearly. I am sure his wife and daughters are devastated. I was at the funeral on Sunday and will be paying a shiva call this evening.

One Note re: Funerals: Well, two notes, actually. There were issues with the sound system. I was particularly frustrated not to be able to hear what Bob’s brother said. The other issue was that they asked people to sing along with a few things, but did not provide song sheets. I don’t know about you, but there are limits to my memory. I plan to leave instructions on these topics.


Alexander McCall Smith: Alexander McCall Smith spoke at the Library of Congress Thursday night. The event was nominally related to the most recent No. One Ladies’ Detective Agency book and the library had exhibits on animals of Botswana and on female detectives available to look at before the talk. His actual talk touched on a number of other topics and he was consistently warm and entertaining. It’s obvious that he genuinely likes his characters. I was reminded of why I find so many of his books so enjoyable.


Spooky Stories: Four of us from Voices in the Glen told spooky stories at the C&O Canal Great Falls Tavern Visitor Center in Maryland on Saturday afternoon. We had a small audience, but it was fun, anyway. I told one literary story ("The New Mother" by Lucy Clifford), an historic ghost story ("Ida Black") and a shaggy dog story ("Lyle and the Ghost").


Don’t Analyze This Dream: I slept really well last night, but I woke up in the middle of a dream involving an incredibly difficult crossword puzzle. I must have been at a competition because Will Shortz was in the front of the room and there was a clock counting down, but I still hadn’t made it out of the northwest corner. In real life, if I am stuck in one part of a puzzle, I try to find things I know in other parts of the puzzle. Dream Me is, apparently, not so good at this.

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Tags: death, dreams, friends, storytelling
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