Travel Blog

My waitress at Kool Beanz had a tattoo of a parrot on the side of her neck. I asked if the fried green tomato BLT could be served on something other than a brioche bun and she suggested flatbread.

The middle-aged man at the table next to mine stood up as his young dining companion returned from the ladies room and nonchalantly pulled her chair out for her – a move I have not seen in 27 years of eating out in South Florida.

My lunch arrived and, after a few seconds, it became clear that a fried green tomato BLT should never be served on anything other than flatbread.

In the evening I made my way to Midtown Reader. Sally Bradshaw, a model of charm and efficiency, introduced me to her similarly gifted staff, one of whom declined my offer to help move a book-filled table with the words, “You’re the talent.” Then they and Sally dutifully set up folding chairs, wiping the seats down with towels and disinfectant. I wondered aloud if there might be too many.

“About 30 people have RSVPed,” Sally told me.

I had never heard of RSVPing for a book reading – a Southern thing? – but it worked. After Sally’s lovely introduction, I stood in front of a tightly packed crowd and went through the seven fundamental pleasures of travel.

At number 3 – a break from routine – I mentioned how, years ago, it was common for writers to intersperse their novels with travel books: Charles Dickens, Anthony Trollope, D.H. Lawrence, Rebecca West, Aldous Huxley, George Orwell, Graham Greene all saw travel writing as part of the job description. For some reason I left out my favorite, Evelyn Waugh, a writer whose collection When the Going Was Good convinced me to become a travel writer.   

“Evelyn Waugh!” a man shouted from the audience when I had finished the roll call. If I hadn’t known he was a book reviewer – we had spoken earlier – I would have thought he was stalking my readings.  

I spoke some more, read a short passage, answered some questions, and then signed books. Roy Blount Jr. recently wrote a piece complaining about people who come to his readings, laugh themselves silly, and then leave empty-handed. He needs to visit Midtown Reader. People approached with copies of my books to be signed, sometimes for family and friends as well as for themselves. And not just the lawyers and other professionals in the room. One young woman, a student at FSU, handed over her copy saying, “I’m going to use it on my parents in hopes they’ll let me spend a semester abroad.”

I couldn’t think of a better use for my book.