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Ending The Work Week With The Wit And Insight Of David Sedaris

June 16, 2017

I love David Sedaris.  He is a gem.

As we leave what was a tragic and further maddening week that took us from high rises on fire to members of congress being shot at to Trump treating the nation as he does his ex-wives comes the need for something that lifts the sails.  Even if the topic is most serious.

David Sedaris.

I asked Ingrid once if she ever talked to her father about his drinking, and I think she was ashamed to answer no. Not that I or anyone in my family ever confronted my mother, no matter how bad it got. Even my dad, who’s super direct, and tells complete strangers that they’re loud or wrong or too fat for that bolero jacket, said nothing. Then again, it built so gradually. For as long as I was living at home, it never seemed a problem. It was only after five of her six children had left that she upped her quota. The single Scotch before dinner became two, and then three. Her wine intake doubled, then tripled. She was never a quality drinker—quantity was what mattered. She bought jugs, not bottles. After dinner, she’d switch to coffee, and then back to Scotch or wine, supplementing the alcohol with pills. “Mom’s dolls,” we called them.

When she told us that she would no longer drive at night, that she couldn’t see the road, we all went along with it, knowing the real reason was that by sunset she was in no shape to get behind the wheel. “Gosh,” we said. “We hope that doesn’t happen to our eyes when we’re your age.”


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