Auckland Writers and Readers Week

Today was sunny and 70ish in Auckland.  I should have popped out out of bed like a jack-in-the box, but I was sluggish and slumpy instead.  It was at least 9:48AM when I got up off the couch. Yes, the couch.  I've been sleeping on the couch for a week now.  It's harder than my twin trundle bed, which is on wheels and a mere 12 inches off the floor. 

After my last visitors left, my back persuaded me to move to higher ground.  It's also easier to get up in the morning.  I'm much closer to standing.

Anyway, today I had plans to attend a few free lectures at the Auckland Writer's conference. The first one started at 11:3oAM. I was expecting it to be story hour, like we used to have at the library when I was a kid in Alexandria.  My mom would take Carrie and me quite regularly and we would sit on the floor and enter our dream world.  Later, after we'd moved to North Dakota, I had two teachers who understood the power of reading to your class, Mr. Wetzel in 5th grade and Mr. Bjornson in 6th grade.

So I got to the first session and closed my eyes as the four different authors read from their novels.  It was not quite the same as when I was a kid.  (I think perhaps the stories were simpler then.)  But it was still enchanting.  I'm thinking that we should have adult story hour.  I think when I start my cafe/community center, I will have an adult story hour.  Who said we have to give it up when we hit the double digits?  

The highlight of the readings was Mr. Duncan Sarkies, a contributor to "The Flight of the Conchords" and recent author of "Two Little Boys."  The audience was nearly falling out of their chairs with laughter.  

After a 30 minute intermission, in which time I wandered to the book table, filled out a survey, and picked up some Auckland city maps for Molly and Josh's impending visit, I returned to my seat in the Limelight room.  A man in head-to-toe black including a suit jacket sat next to me. He was carrying a medium-sized moleskin journal and black permanent pen, which he used to make flourishes and notes as the lecture moved along.  The writing was so filled with flair that I couldn't sneak read it from my close distance.  He looked like an art critic, but was wearing a sponsor tag. 

Oh, back to the lecture.  (I may have been more interested in my neighbor.)  The lecturer, Dr. Charles Pigden, was a very hyperopic (literally and figuratively) philosophy professor from Otago University in the south island, speaking on the history of philosophy in New Zealand. 

He started out by repeatedly saying how NZ was superior to all other countries, except perhaps Finland, when it came to philosophy. (This county is fantastic at flagrant self-promotion.) He then went on to cover the history and specificially deride one of the early philosophy professors, William Anderson, at the University of Auckland.  After a long and loud lecture, he asked for questions.  A middle-aged woman stood up. She wore a worn camel leather coat, black pin-striped pants, and straight blondish grey hair, about shoulder length. 

"I am the granddaughter of William Anderson."

Mr. Philosophy professor's ego visibly deflated and he looked annoyed as she went on to explain her grandfather's philosophy on philosophy and education...  

That was the highlight of the lecture. 

And the lesson is...  this is a small country, be careful what you say!  Oh and and don't forget about "Adult Story Hour", coming to a cafe near you! (When I return to the states one day.)