Am back, a bit dazed and rather tired, after a very short stint at the bookstore. Peter Yarrow played the guitar and sang for over an hour to a crowd (200-odd) of adoring children and nostalgic parents. It was a nice event--the audience was flooded with enthusiasm and he did sing "Puff The Magic Dragon"-- but my brain feels like it got a little battered. It was a bit surreal to see a large crowd of children and parents and grandparents paddling imaginary boats to a song that talked about being a boat and being a sea. There were parts where everyone was singing along, and I felt like I had been transported to some weird and dangerous universe where life spontaneously morphs into a folk musical.
I've also realised that, sometimes, discussing unconventional narrative techniques while wearing the ebullient and smiling retail voice is difficult for people to swallow. I was gushing about a Grace Paley story to a customer and looked up to see him staring at me as if I had just let him down, rather unforgiveably.