Josh Hanagarne's Blog, page 15

Recap from Camp George, Ignorance, and “Suck It Until Your JawBone Falls Off, Then I’ll Beat You With Your Jawbone”

I was looking up information on camp George, a camp for kids with Tourette’s, seeing if I might be able to volunteer. I wound up on a religious forum (a tiny, tiny minority, this is not a generalization) all yowling about the camp, and how those “little retards” were actually just possessed by devils. “They should come to our camp! We’ll fix ‘em!”

They can suck it.  They can suck it until their jaws drop off. And then I’ll beat them with their jawbones.

Anyway, I did just get back from Camp George in California, and it was disappointingly free of devils and demons. Just a lot of sweet kids and hopeful parents and good people.

Named after George De La Tourette, Camp George is a camp for kids with Tourette’s and their parents. It’s sort of the West Coast version of Camp Twitch and Shout.

I flew in Saturday afternoon. The camp is on top of a hill above a beautiful park where the land has to cost millions per acre. There was a breeze that never stopped. It was about 75 degrees. When it got dark I heard a mountain lion scream. I got to ride in a golf cart. I got my own bed, and so on.

The best part of the camp, as always, was meeting people. but this one was especially sweet, because I got to meet some people I’ve only known online for years.

Ethan Nicodemus and I started a blog about Legos a few years ago. His mom, Larissa, had contacted me to talk about TS and off we went. The Nicodemus’s have become a second family to me. Or third, of fourth, or whatever. I tend to get adopted by everyone who write to me about TS.

They drove up from Riverside for the talk, and Ethan was kind enough to sit by me at lunch and make sure I didn’t get nervous. Behold! Behold I say! Such a cool kid, and brilliant. I fully expect us all to be working for him one day. And Larissa was every bit as great in person as I could have hoped for, no surprise there.

Then I gave a talk which devolved into basically 30 minutes of me crying. But I saw two other men in the front row crying, so mission accomplished. Once I feel myself getting weepy my only goal is usually to make sure that I’m not the only guy bawling. Success!

Here’s a picture of me and the new army. It was like the Braveheart speech, but more so.

Tough, tough, wonderful kids. If any of you who were there are reading this, you remember what I said: This is happening, and I’m glad, because it brought us together. You’re going to be fine. Even when you’re not. I love every single one of you who was in that room. Believe it. 

Then it was time to sign like an OG. Just look at this Hunter S. Thompson wannabe.

The trip went too fast. I had to fly back about 24 hours after landing. But I’ll be back next year for any of you who asked.

For those of you in the TS community, nothing is more important than perseverance, advocacy, and supporting each other. You hold on to whoever you’ve got and you tell me if I can help.

A few specific messages for you kids who asked specific questions, you’ll know who you are:

Yes, you can get a driver’s license. You don’t want to be pedaling chicks around on your unicycle.
Yes, anger and loneliness can help you make art. I suspect more art than we’ll ever know comes from dark places
No, there’s nothing wrong with saying “I hate this and it’s not fair.” It just can’t be the only thing you say.
Yes, you can have a normal life.
Yes, being as tall as me is great.
In my experience, confidence is the total lack of self-consciousness
Yes, I will try to come to your birthday party if you remind me
Bullies? Go for the biggest one first. They’ll stop if you teach them that you’re not worth the hassle. DEFY them with every breath you take.

And if you’re part of the ignorant community calling us “retards,” you know where I’m at. Bring your jawbone.

 

For You Overly Considerate Tourette’s Folks!

Hi all, and today I’m specifically talking to you people with Tourette’s, or parents of kids with Tourette’s.

I’m getting lots of emails from you, which is wonderful. Sometimes you want help, sometimes you want to vent, sometimes you want to ask questions, and it’s all just great.

But! way too many of these emails start with things like:

“I know you’re way too busy, but–”

“You probably won’t even read this, but–”

“I’ll be surprised if you have time for this, but–”

etc.

Listen. I don’t get to feel genuinely useful very often, and when I do, it’s usually because I’m doing something Tourette’s related. So here’s my plea. If you’re dealing with Tourette’s and you think I have anything to offer you, please stop being so respectful of my time.

If you ask for too much, I’ll say “That’s too much.” If I don’t have enough time, I’ll say “I don’t have enough time.” If you ask a question I don’t have an answer for, I’ll say “I don’t have an answer for that.”

But if any of you are not writing/asking/contacting me just because you’ve already decided I couldn’t possibly have time for you, that would break my heart. Snap out of it!

If I can help, I will. If I can’t, I won’t pretend I can. If what you need is someone to listen to you, I will listen. If you want me to listen to you for 100 hours, I’ll say that’s way too much. But until we get there, ask.

In the comments, in email, or on the phone. ASK. (please)

Being Kind – George Saunders Commencement Speech

George Saunders, one of my favorite authors and seriously one of the most decent, good people around, has delivered the loveliest commencement speech I think I’ve ever heard/read/heard of. It’ll go right next to David Foster Wallace’s This is Water for me.

Read it here.

In short, it says “Let’s be kinder to each other.”

But of course Saunders can and does say it in a way that nobody else could.

The Curiosity by Stephen Kiernan

Hi all, busy busy week, but I wanted to pop in and steer you to the wonderful novel The Curiosity by Stephen Kiernan.

When I saw the tagline “What if the love of your life died decades before you were born?” I thought, “Oh no, how have I wound up with the latest Nicholas Sparks monstrosity?”

But thankfully the love story in The Curiosity–and it is ultimately a love story–is beautifully rendered and satisfying. I’m not going to say more because 1) I’m short on time and 2) the story, told from multiple viewpoints, unfolds so exquisitely that I don’t want to give anything away.

I was on an author’s panel with Mr. Kiernan at ALA in June, and the more he talked about this book, the more excited I got. Well, what sounded promising is even better on the page.

Curiosity tell the story of a man, Jeremiah Rice, who died in the 19th century. He is revived in modern day by a team of scientists, including the lovely Kate Philo, who gets tasked with showing him the world he has returned to.

Stephen’s non-fiction is also brilliant, but I hope he writes more fiction. This is a seriously great read, to phrase it in a very vague, cliched, and unwriterly way.

 

 

Also, if there has ever been a novel featuring a more infuriating, pompous scientist than Erastus Carthage, please don’t tell me.

Video From The Hartford Library/Mark Twain Event

Hey everyone, The Hartford Public Library just posted the full video of my event. I was interviewed by Jacques Lamarre, Director of the Mark Twain House.

Highlights/lowlights

My tics were pretty bad for an event, so if you’re curious, this is what a 5 out of 10 on the Tourette scale looks like for me (it does stop while I’m talking).


For you Tourette folks, there’s a lot of good discussion about tics, breathing, and my timeline


At least watch the Q & A, which is about the last 15 or 12 minutes. Pay particular attention to the “midget” question and how deftly I danced around that madness


I spanked Jacques in the final minute of the video and he giggled. A legitimate giggle.


My shoes, which I only trot out for libraries

Watch it here.

Poll: Breaking Bad

Ok y’all, Breaking Bad is going to be back to wrap things up in a couple of weeks. I’m going to be genuinely sad when it’s done.

Are you watching it?

Got any predictions?

How would you like the show to end?

All I feel is that it’s going to end badly for Walt.

I Threw A Rock Through My Truck’s Window – “You’re Wiiiiild!”

A couple of days ago I was up in the mountains. This is happening more frequently. I can’t seem to wrangle the tics unless I’m out in the trees and everything is quiet. So I go out, I pick a group of trees, and I start running towards it. I run until I can’t, then I sit for a while and come back.

So I was up there for hours and hiked up to Lake Solitude.

By the time I came down I was sweaty, tired, and it was getting dark.

Oh no! I had left my keys in my car. Phone, too.

The parking lot by the trail-head was full of people, but I didn’t want to ask anyone for help.  I was just in a hurry, but not for any real reason.

I’m not very smart, but I’m decisive when it’s go time. No thinking about consequences for me!

I threw a rock through the driver’s side window of the truck and could not believe how many zillions of pieces it broke into. I had this idea that it would create a dainty little hole. I’d reach through the hole, get my keys, and lovingly remove the rest of the glass in one big sheet. Ha!

There were a lot of people around. They must have all thought I was a very brazen, patient thief, as I swept the glass out onto the ground. My editor told me this was an extremely stupid way to handle the problem, but so what. Someone recently told me my book was “raggedy” and that’s my editor’s fault, so her credibility is totally gone!

It also reminded me of this scene from Dirty Dancing. Fast forward to about 1:30 and say it with me…”You’re wild!”

Two Sausage Wednesday, Mark Twain and Stephen King Recaps, Summertime Girls, And More

Back at home. I spent the past four days in New York and Hartford.  What follows is a raggedy, in-no-order list of observations and occurrences. But first, if you haven’t seen me arm wrestle Stephen King, check it out.

Flying is getting worse for my Tourette’s, not better.  I mostly had decent seatmates, but also had to explain a lot and had a couple of idiotic stare-downs.  Had a really hard time figuring out anything that worked this time. Two 4.5 hour flights. Blah. While exiting the first plane, my head broke one of the tube lights overhead.  That was stupid.


New York was way too hot. I got to have dinner in Sleepy Hollow country, though, which was fantastic. Also, fireflies. Lots of them.


The drive to Hartford was beautiful. However, at one point I passed the signs for Newton and Sandy Hook and immediately had tears in my eyes.  Still unbearable.


Hartford was even hotter than New York. By the end of the first hour I had noticed that the official sound of Hartford is the terrible “uhhhhh…..” everyone exhales every time they step outside.


I stayed at the Ramada Plaza, which isn’t noteworthy except that I could not believe how good looking all of the desk folks were. Male and female, it was like a calendar. It’s always crazy to see people  in real life who are so pretty they look like they’ve been airbrushed.


Oh, but first I went to the Mark Twain House. This was the first thing I saw inside:

My first thought was…just kidding, I couldn’t think at all. I was just about as giddy as I get, which means I almost had a facial expression.

I met Jacques Lamarre, marketing director. He’s the one who invited me to talk. Jacques is fantastically gay, and I was quickly welcomed into his “inner circle of queenie friends.”  He started trying to marry me as soon as I showed up, but he’s already married, so I made him pipe down fast. He was my tour guide. Oh, and we had an intense Chris Isaac singalong. And I also coined the phrase “It’s a two sausage Wednesday, don’t fight it. It’s just science.”

This is Jacques and I in Mark Twain’s drawing room:

Jacques seriously might be the funniest person I’ve ever met. He’s certainly the sassiest.

The outside of the house looks like this:

And this is the desk in the man cave where Twain wrote Huckleberry Finn.

Look what they gave me!

This is a replica of the busts that were passed out to guests at Mark Twain’s 70th birthday party. It’s heavy, it would make a greater murder weapon in CLUE.

We went to the radio station for an NPR show. Seriously, you don’t need to listen to the hour-long interview, but please listen to the intro . Tucker Ives wrote it. I was laughing so hard that I had to ask them not to ask me any questions for a minute.  Tucker wrote it base on things he had heard me say or seen me write about various authors. I will never get over the line about Joyce Carol Oates.


The prouder was the hilarious Chion Wolf IV. This is happening more often, but everywhere I go, people want to be picked up. Happy to help.

My event at the Hartford library was great. Here’s a pic. Jacques interviewed me and he actually blushed when I slapped his butt on stage, bless his heart. But the best part of the event was Catherine. She was 88 years old and said, “I dragged my daughter here. I wouldn’t have missed meeting you for anything.” I don’t know if I’ve ever been so touched. And if you wanted a close-up of my shoes, here you go. Catherine, you were the best part of the trip.

Then a few of us went out to dinner. This devolved into me arguing with one of the Mark Twain house employees about Skyfall, Lincoln, an iPhone case of Abraham Lincoln, and I was only able to de-escalate the situation by reciting a Rilke poem directly into her ear while holding her against a wall. (Hi Mallory). The poem was Lament.


Next day, lunch with Stephen King. It was Jacques, Stephen, me, and three other people. He signed about 400 books that would be passed out to people who had paid for the private reception that night. He was impossibly nice. At one point–we were in a private room that was kind of cold–Alyza the intern was shivering. Stephen stood up and said “I’m going to go buy you a sweatshirt in the gift shop.”  He didn’t find one, but he did return with a suit coat from one of the wait staff. Alyza tried to protest but everyone screamed her down. “You do not get to not have a story about Stephen King getting you a jacket.”


Oh, we arm wrestled. Have I mentioned that? I have. In fact, I’ve spent most of the last three days hanging out with that picture.


Lunch was so fun. He was so kind, and so down to earth, and so not interested in only talking about himself.


I came back an hour later and watched him get interviewed for a podcast. Then I got to ride alone in the car with him over to the reception. En route, we talked about how women dress in the summer, 50 Shades of Gray, mentholated cough drops, how easy it is to make people happy by signing a book, my book, his next three projects, and how to stay sane and healthy on tour. I kept forgetting that he’s 66. He was already pretty tired at this point, but was incredibly gracious with everyone.


I just have to type it again so I can look at the words–I got to ride in the car alone with King and talk about all this stuff. Oh, and he asked me to sign one of my books for him.

 

I got to work security at his reception. There were about 250 people to get through the line. I had to check bags and boxes to make sure nobody was sneaking severed heads in. And I had to fold my arms and try to look severe, which wasn’t hard, knowing how tired he was, and how respectful of his time I hoped people would be. Tours have really changed. He didn’t sign, but now that everyone has a phone, everyone can get a picture. He was so kind to everyone. Stephen doesn’t do many events anymore, so people were there from Canada, Utah, St. Louis, and on and on and on.


My tics were so horrible afterward that I told him I was going to skip the event and head back to try and calm down. He hugged me and we had a brief conversation in the green room that I will never forget. He made a very gracious offer that I will be accepting, that’s what I can say now. And I was able to say, “I don’t really care who you are. I’m not a star struck type and I like everyone. What I love is that you’re this kind to everyone.”

That’s pretty much the write-up. Glad to be home. I didn’t get paid for these events, but I would have paid 10 times what I did for the experience I got.

Josh

The Day I Arm Wrestled Stephen King

It went like this, intense at the start.

But then it ended up like this:

It was…how should I put it…fun. More fun than I thought I could have. Stephen is a wonderful person and now I have to go get ready for the event tonight.

I may never stop smiling.

Update: Here’s how the night ended:

Picture From The Hartford Library and Mark Twain Event

Hi all, this was one of the greatest days of my life. I’ll be back soon with a long update, but here are a few things that are happening.

The library was great. Like, this great:

Sometimes you simply have to wear two-toned shoes. Like on days when you get a private tour of Mark Twain’s House.

And days when you learn that you will officially be working security for Stephen King at his event tomorrow. Yes, that is happening.

More soon!

Josh