I wrote a while ago about a conundrum I had.
I tried listen to david sedaris read his stories. This was not fun. I had to stop.
His voice hurt me.
I liked the idea of liking david sedaris. I did not like the sound of davide sedaris.
I told another writer friend about this.
She suggested that david sedaris was a bit of an acquired taste.
As a lover of both olives and oysters, I’m a fan of acquiring tastes.
Today, I’m happy to report, I have successfully enjoyed david sedaris.
I took a bath and heard him on a podcast. He was charming and funny - so much so that I bought his best on Audible. It’s funny. Well written. Absolutely brilliant. His voice has grown on me.
And?
(he’s pretty damn intimidating)1
And, I’ve acquired a taste for it.
The aches of aging have been a bit like the voice of david sedaris.
They have hurt me.
This ‘getting old stuff’ is new to me.
Completely alien.
When I was twenty two?
I couldn’t imagine being over forty.
I couldn’t fathom that there would be anything good about being middl…
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