In late February and mid-March, I did six book signing events, one in Oregon and five in Washington. Each location offered something special.
Four were on dark and stormy nights, one was during an afternoon snowstorm, and
one was on a sunny afternoon.
Bloomsbury Books
in Ashland gave me an opportunity to do an interview on Jefferson Public Radio
and to refine my talk from the November presentation at the Jordan Schnitzer
Museum of Art in Eugene. A snowstorm prevented my agent, Nadine Cobb, from
joining me, so I had to fly solo. It was fun to connect with a former student
and a long-ago colleague who introduced me to some of her current friends.
Third Place Books
in Lake Forest Park brought out nearby Seattle friends. A big ‘thankyou’ to
Roxanna Harper; she recruited a passel of my former colleagues. A couple of friends took photos and
made a video of the event. Nadine and I began to get into the swing of being
“on the road again.”
Village Books in
Bellingham was the largest event outside of Eugene, perhaps because it was on a
sunny Sunday afternoon. Friends from Canada and a couple from Bellingham
attended, but the audience was primarily persons new to me. The bookstore staff
was so impressed by the engagement of the audience that they invited me back!
Snow Goose Bookstore
in Stanwood had a small but very engaged audience, including one long-time
colleague and a woman who heard about the event at Third Place Books after it
was over. She was so curious that she looked up my website, found the
connection to my blog, saw there was an event coming up in Stanwood and drove
from Everett in the midst of a rain storm. I was very touched by her and by the
hospitality of the storeowner.
The Bookie at
Washington State University in Pullman was the only event where I did a book
signing but did not give a presentation. Nadine and I arrived in the midst of a
snowstorm and learned that University of Oregon had closed because of having
seven inches of snow. The store’s marketing manager was a Russian immigrant and
I had an opportunity to meet students from Japan and Somalia.
Auntie’s in
Spokane brought down two of Nadine’s friends from near the Canadian border and
the event was attended by the store’s owner and the events person. The store
had a photographer on hand to capture the moment and the owner promised to
sell, sell, sell my book.
A Cultural Encounter
The shift from western Washington into eastern Washington
was dramatic. Nadine and I got up at 5:00 in the morning in East Arlington
because we had to be in Pullman by 2:00 in the afternoon. We left at 5:30 am and we had to go through the Snoqualmie Pass. It was
the day of the snow dump in the Willamette valley. We were very anxious. The
snow was not that bad going through the pass, but the pass seemed to go on
forever. Five hours later, when we finally got through, we were giddy. We knew
we could make it to Pullman in time.
We went into a local restaurant and headed for an empty
booth laughing and in a good mood. A man in the next booth, poked his head
into our space and said to me, “Are you laughing at the president?”
I’m like, “what?’ I think, “Obama can be funny … is he on
TV.” There was no TV. I looked back at the man and said, “What?”
He said again, “Are you laughing at the president?” I said,
“Of course not, I love the president.”
That should have been the end of it. But in the booth with
the man was a little girl, about nine years old. She kept flashing me huge
smiles. As I returned from the restroom, she gave me another big smile. So I
stopped at her seat and said, “You have the most wonderful smile, is this your
birthday?”
Before she could answer, the man said “No, it’s spring
break.” I kept the smile on my face and said, “Of course, I forgot.” and tried to
get to my seat.
The man said, “Obama doesn’t want kids in school.” I
responded, “Excuse me, but education is one of Obama’s big priorities.” I kept
moving toward my seat.
He went into a tirade. “Obama left Kenya, Obama left Hawaii.
Obama left Chicago. Obama should leave the White House.”
By then I was standing in front of him and having this
revelation that I spoke out loud in wonderment. “You’re a racist.” It did not
even faze him. He just kept going on.
Then he said, “I bet you voted for Obama.” I said, “Yes, I
did.”
At this point a man in the booth on the other side of
Nadine and me, said in a surly voice, “I bet you’re going to vote for him
again.”
I replied, “Of course, I am. He’s done so much good for our
country.”
One of them shouted, “Name one thing.”
That’s when I realized, “LiDoña, things are escalating
here.” So I raised my arms and said, “Guys, I don’t need to listen to this.” I
sat down.
Silence descended in the dining area. No restaurant staff
approached to see if I was all right after this surly verbal assault.
Gradually the normal hum of conversation picked up until the
man in the next booth was getting ready to leave. The little girl asked him
something, and he shouted in a loud voice, “I have to go back to work so those
other people can get their food stamps.”
I kept my attention on my omelet. I couldn’t help wondering
how much the government gives this man for not planting wheat. Why is a
government subsidy viewed as a farmer’s entitlement but food stamps to help
those who can’t make ends meet during a recession is seen as a handout?
Your Turn
I’d love to hear your take on the book tour and this cultural encounter. What
was going on? Why did this occur? What's the take-away?
