Ebert’s number one fan

The show will go on at this year’s 15th Annual Ebertfest. Tilda Swinton, Shailene Woodley and Jack Black are among those expected to attend this year’s festival.

Hey, it’s Mike again–I promise I’ll fill you in on Montreal eventually, but the sad event  of yesterday — the death of Roger Ebert — changed my plans. My longtime and dear friend, Brand Fortner, was without question Roger Ebert’s biggest fan. FYI: I met Brand  back in 1990. He was a co-founder of Spyglass, a then tiny startup software company in Champaign, Ill., that was spun off from the National Center for Supercomputing Applications at the University of Illinois. And he hired me. It remains the best and most fulfilling job I’ve ever had — it led to an unforgettable ride during the dot.com days, and the success of Spyglass changed my, Beth’s and our son Gus’s life for the better. Best of all,  Brand and I have remained friends.

I’m like a lot of people — I fully enjoyed Roger Ebert, even when I didn’t agree with him. But no one loved or respected Ebert more than Brand, who has also always attended and supported Ebertfest, a terrific film festival held in Champaign’s historic Virginia Theater each year.

After yesterday’s news, Brand was good enough to share a little essay his daughter Paula had written in college about what it was like to grow up with someone who worshipped at the altar of Roger. Paula—-now an accomplished adult (yikes) in her own right — was good enough to let me share it here on Beth’s blog. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. 

Roger and Dad

My dad idolizes Roger Ebert. He has Ebert posters hanging on his walls and Ebert movie yearbooks filling his bookcases. Every year, my dad attends Roger Ebert’s Overlooked Film Festival and comes back laden with souvenir hats, bags and t-shirts. Above my dad’s desk hangs a signed, framed photo of Roger Ebert shaking his hand. “To Brand, on the occasion of HAL 9000′s birthday,” Roger wrote, adding a quote from HAL’s demise in the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey… “Daisy … daisy …”.

When we were younger, my brothers and I needed my dad’s approval before going to the movie theater. My dad never cared about a movie’s rating, violence or explicit content. Rather, he needed to discuss whether Roger would approve of our choice.”You want to see that movie?” he’d ask. “Well, you know what Roger said about it, don’t you?” My brothers and I would look at each other and sigh. My dad would pull up the review and read to us from the holy word of Roger. We almost never made it to the theater by showtime.

My dad has bought nearly every film that Roger liked, and as a result, he owns hundreds of movies. Although my dad has barely seen a quarter of the movies he owns, he knows what Roger thinks of each one. For the movies my dad has seen, his opinion is intertwined with Roger’s. I remember my dad once telling me that he hadn’t enjoyed a movie that Roger rated favorably. After some consideration, my dad decided to watch the movie again to better understand Roger’s opinion.

When I was in high school, my friends would drop by to borrow movies from our massive collection. This pleased my dad to no end. He even made his own video rental cards and checkout slips to facilitate the borrowing process. And he loved spreading the gospel of Roger. If a friend wanted to borrow a particular movie, my dad would sit him down and walk him through Roger’s review. Then my dad would jump up. ”Oh, and if you like this movie, I know at least six more that you’ll love.” My friends always left with their hands full. Even now, I still turn to my dad for movie advice. Whether I’m in the mood for a mindless action flick or a foreign drama, he knows exactly what to recommend. My dad really knows his movies. Or, rather, he really knows his Roger Ebert.

The new one snores

Hi all, this is Mike–also known as husband of Beth. She’s in New Jersey at the The Seeing Eye, training with her new guide dog. I’m holding down the fort with Hanni, and will post occasionally over the next three weeks. I’ll try to get you the latest news from New Jersey and maybe mix in a little of my experience during the transition.

Before I get to dog news, though, some of you probably had trouble listening to Beth’s WBEZ radio essay last week. The link was broken, and though it was labeled as Beth’s story–and had a photo of Beth and Hanni–it went to a story about pies. Well, this one is supposed to work better:

http://www.wbez.org/episode-segments/saying-goodbye-old-friend

Now, dog news. Beth called to tell me she just got matched up with her new guide dog. It’s a boy! He’s a yellow Labrador Retriever, and judging from the sound of her voice, Beth seems already to have fallen in love with him. And, she reports, he snores while napping.

Hearing her so happy is what I expected–but it was still a relief. Last week Beth and I both moped, knowing that Hanni’s working days–and really, a whole wonderful era for Beth and me–was coming to an end. Beth got Hanni in 2001, not long after 9/11. We still lived in Urbana, and when I went to pick Beth and Hanni up from the airport, they wouldn’t let me go to the gate to meet her. The beauty of Champaign’s Willard airport, though, was that I could see the gates–all four of them–from my little bench on the other side of security. What I remember is Hanni’s tail wagging straight up in the air, and the two of them walking so fast they were a blur.

First there was Dora (she's the one with the antlers). Photo by Lois Haubold.

Since then, our son Gus moved to Wisconsin, we moved to Chicago, Beth’s had two books published, and well, really, she’s built the career and life that blindness had interrupted. Hanni’s been there for all of it, so the retirement decision has been especially tough on Beth.

Hanni–and Pandora before her–have meant nearly as much to me as they have to Beth. Not because they’re great dogs to have around when they’re off duty (they are). But because when Beth heads out without me, I know she’s not alone. When Beth first lost her sight, I worried constantly. In the beginning, before she got orientation and mobility training, the thought of her walking to the mailbox down the corner from our Champaign apartment terrified me. Even after she learned cane skills, though, I struggled with anxiety when she’d go places without me.

That all changed when she got a guide dog. When Beth goes out, she’s always got a partner. For better or worse, people have responded to Beth much differently since she began working with a dog than when she used a cane. With a cane, they were hesitant to engage her. They’d get out of the way and not utter a word. But with a dog, you can’t beat ‘em off with a…stick. I don’t mind that

...then there was Hanni, a wonder of a dog. New guy's got a tough act to follow, but I know he'll be up to it.

a dog provides a little security, too–they’re not trained for that purpose, but I have to think a would-be mugger is deterred by a 65-lb. dog.

Which is all to say, I really can’t say enough about what The Seeing Eye has done for Beth–and for me. I’ll always have a place in my heart for Pandora, Beth’s first dog, who lived to 17–and was one stubborn Lab. I know I’ll love the new guy Beth brings home. In the meantime, though, I gotta go play with Hanni. We’re both off work today.

Click and Clack Clicked Here

The Tappet Brothers knew they had to link to my blog after seeing this groovy picture of my sisters and me in front of Cheryl’s lime green 1967 Mustang.

You’ve heard of an NPR show called Car Talk, right? Tom and Ray Magliozzi? Click and Clack, the Tappet Brothers? Well, then you can imagine what fun it was to hear my talking computer sing out Doug Mayer’s name from my in box the other day.

Doug Mayer is the head writer of Car Talk and the producer of the radio show’s website. And as all Car Talk fans know, Doug Mayer is not a slave to fashion. Doug Mayer had emailed me to let me know he liked the post I’d written about driving the 2010 Mustang. He liked that post so much, in fact, that he added it to the “Links We Like” Section of the Car Talk website! This is no small thing – cartalk.com receives more than 400,000 unique visitors per week. You read that right: more than 400,000 unique visitors a week.

Hanni didn’t seem at all excited about the attention we might get from this great news. She did, however, take notice when my talking computer started barking out a bio of Doug Mayer’s dog Chloe from the Car Talk website:

Chloe Mayer is Car Talk’s Assistant Staff Canine.

Chloe commutes to Car Talk Plaza with Doug Mayer, her human companion. At Car Talk, her primary responsibility is to greet visitors, shake her tail so violently that her butt knocks over boxes, and bark menacingly when a visit from weird Bob next door is impending.

When not on duty at Car Talk Plaza, Chloe is responsible for keeping a number of beds at Mayer’s home office warm and fur covered, and staying on guard against the constant threat posed by possible Fed Ex, UPS-guy or Jehovah’s Witness visits.

In her 22 hours of free time each day, Chloe enjoys sleeping, running alongside skiers, sleeping, hiking, trail running, compost-pile excavation and cataloging, mindless retrieving of objects of all kinds and sleeping.

Now, that’s one job any working dog would love. I’m afraid Hanni is envious.

Obama’s Book Club

An NPR story called Obama: A New Force in Publishing describes how our president is helping authors sell books.

When he’s seen reading a book on a plane or carrying one in his hand during his travels, it can create a stir. When Obama was photographed holding Fred Kaplan’s Lincoln: The Biography of a Writer, the book’s sales bumped immediately, and requests for media interviews with the author surged.

Now, that’s the sort of surge I’d love to experience! So here’s my plan: I’m going to send a copy of Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound to the schools the Obama kids go to. Both Obama daughters attend Sidwell Friends School, but Sidwell’s lower school is in Bethesda, Maryland — that’s where Sasha attends second grade. Malia is in fifth grade, and that’s part of the middle school, located on the same campus as the high school in Northwest Washington.

I’ll send a letter along with each book, explaining the visits Hanni and I make to schools. I’ll tell them about our dear friends in Alexandria, Virginia. “We visit Pick and Hank a lot,” I’ll write.” Next time we’re in town, Hanni and I would love to come visit your students.” I suppose the Sidwell Friends School gets barraged with offers like this, but am hoping my letter might stand out:

• I live in Chicago, and that’s where the Obama girls are from.
• it’s rumored Melee and Sasha will be getting their new dog as an Easter present tomorrow, so dogs will be all the rage at the school.
• Because I can’t see, I won’t know which of the kids in the school are the Obamas. This means I won’t gawk.

I came up with this great idea (to send a book to Sidwell) months ago, when the Obamas first announced that the girls would be attending that school. But as Thomas Edison liked to say, “Genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration.” So far I haven’t worked up one bead of sweat composing the letter, much less addressing the envelopes or asking Hanni to guide me to the post office to slide the packets into the mail. Now that I’ve put this idea out to the public in this blog post, though, I have to do it, right?

My fantasy, of course, is that Sidwell asks Hanni & me to come. Malia and Sasha love our presentation so much that they take Safe & Sound home from the school library. Their dad greets them on the White House lawn when they return from school, and they hand the book over to him before receiving their hugs. Snap! Snap! Snap! The cameras start clicking, and next thing you know President Obama is pictured hugging his girls with one arm, the other arm hugging a copy of Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound. This could be bigger than…well…bigger than Oprah.

From the NPR story:

Perhaps, Seroy (Jeff Seroy, a publicist for the publisher Farrar, Straus and Giroux} likes to say — only half in jest — Obama will have the kind of influence on book sales that his supporter Oprah Winfrey has had.

“I think there’s room for two Oprahs, and I think if there is a new Oprah, Oprah will be happy that Obama is the new Oprah,”

And Now, for Sports

That's Billy (and me). Let's hope we're still friends after Monday night.

Four years ago I won an award for a White Sox story I did for Chicago Public Radio. Ever since, I’ve been telling people that I am the only blind woman in America to win an award for sports broadcasting. I don’t know if that’s true, exactly, but so far no one has told me differently. It is in that spirit that I am sharing news of three momentous events from this week in sports that could change our lives.

1. I picked Michigan State in the NCAA pool at our local tavern, and for the first time ever, in my entire March madness life, I am still alive going into the final four. Not only that, but I have a chance, although remote, of winning the jackpot. My stiffest competition comes from beloved bartender Billy Balducci. He has North Carolina beating UConn in the final, I have Michigan State beating UNC in the final. In order to get to that final, though, Michigan State has to beat UConn tonight. Mike, Hanni and I will be watching the game from Hackney’s – Billy is bartending, which means he’ll be waiting on us hand and foot as we enjoy a Michigan State victory. Go Spartans!

2. Yesterday NFL quarterback Jay Cutler was traded to the Chicago Bears by the Denver Broncos. Normally I don’t follow football, but this trade is noteworthy to me because Cutler was diagnosed with Type I diabetes a year ago. I have Type I diabetes, too – that’s the disease that caused my blindness. Yahoo Sports had a sportswriter whose own son was diagnosed with Type I a few years ago write a piece about Cutler. The description of Type I in the article is one of the best I’ve ever read. The writer points out that two very different conditions are referred to as “diabetes” – Type I, formerly known as juvenile diabetes, and Type II.

Type II diabetes, often brought on by obesity or poor nutrition, involves a breakdown in the body’s ability to process the insulin it makes. For that reason, improved diet and exercise can often improve the condition and lead to the reduction or elimination of the need for insulin injections. Type I is an autoimmune disease in which the body attacks itself and destroys its insulin-making cells. There is no behavior that “causes” it; doctors believe it is a genetic condition often triggered by an environmental stress, such as a virus. It is more typically diagnosed in childhood but in recent years it has become increasingly common for people Cutler’s age or older to become symptomatic. Those who suffer from Type I are completely insulin dependent, and there is nothing that can be done to change that fact.

The writer explains how Type I diabetics balance food, exercise and insulin to walk a tightrope between high and low blood sugars, and how we use blood glucose monitors to check our blood sugar levels regularly (mine has audio output that calls my results out loud).

Yet control not only requires hyper-vigilance, but it also correlates to a risk in the regular occurrence of hypoglycemic episodes, or “lows” – the scariest day-to-day element of diabetes management.

To control blood sugars, most people use one of those finger-stick kits like the one Cutler carries to check their blood-glucose reading on a frequent basis, certainly before meals and often as much as 15 times a day. When that number is higher than the intended target range, additional insulin can be given through shots or via a battery-powered pump that is threaded into the body (the plastic insertion devices typically must be removed, reloaded and relocated every two or three days). When the number is low, fast-acting carbohydrates – usually juice or glucose tablets – must be ingested. It is also important that a person accurately computes the amount of carbohydrates he/she consumes, ideally by reading labels and measuring or weighing portions. Insulin is then dispensed according to a preset ratio (which also needs to be tweaked based on frequent testing).

Sounds pretty complicated. That’s because managing Type I diabetes is complicated. but the writer goes on to say that Cutler isn’t the only pro athlete who has Type I, and that plenty of people with Type I diabetes manage to live happy, fulfilling and healthy lives.

For now Cutler – like Charlotte Bobcats forward Adam Morrison, Seattle Mariners pitcher Brandon Morrow, golfers Scott Verplank, Michelle McGann and Kelli Kuehne, swimmer Gary Hall Jr. and other pro athletes with Type I – can help the cause simply by conspicuously continuing to perform at a high level, despite the daily challenges he faces. And if seeing him suck down a juice on the sideline or prick his finger during a timeout helps some observers gain a better understanding of the rigors of Type I management, that’s not a bad thing.

Amen.

3. Thanks to Hanni, Mike and I managed to get tickets to Monday’s White Sox home opener – the game is sold out, but since she needs room to lie down we qualified for seats in the handicapped section. Rumors are flying, pardon the pun, about Barack Obama throwing out the first pitch. Our president is a big White Sox fan, you know, and he does have experience — Obama threw out the first pitch during the 2005 playoffs, and the 2005 World Champion White Sox won 8 straight games afterwards. I can’t imagine President Obama returning from the G20 Summit overseas in time for Monday’s 1 pm start, and once he sees the weather forecast I doubt he’ll make the White Sox game a priority –it’s supposed to snow.

OMG, it’s 4:37 already. Time to head to Hackney’s. Go, go Spartans!

Hanni the Diamond Dog

 

Gus, Hanni and I--in front of the Hank Aaron statue outside Miller Park in Milwaukee.

 

Gus is always happy to be at a ball game--especially on his birthday.

 

 

 

A fourth grader raised his hand Friday and asked,” What happens when you go to Wrigley Field?” We were at Emma Melzer Elementary School, doing the “q&a” part of our presentation. Meltzer School is in Morton Grove, a northern suburb of Chicago. Like most north-siders, the principal -and many of the students – at Melzer are Cub fans. And sometimes Cub fans can’t imagine going to any other park than Wrigley. “You mean, how does Hanni get me to a baseball game?” I asked. After all, I told them, Hanni has been to five different major league parks with me. And as it happened, Mike, Hanni and I were leaving the next morning for Wisconsin – it was our son Gus’ birthday, and we were taking him to a Milwaukee Brewers game.

At all the parks Hanni and I have gone to together (Seattle, St. Louis, Milwaukee plus Wrigley and US Cellular in Chicago) we’ve traveled “sighted guide” – a method you might remember from reading my My Date with Billy Balducci post.

“But a lot of times the people I’m there with are all men,” I said. “So Hanni guides me through the women’s bathroom by herself.” They laughed and laughed at that one. It was a killer!

The question about Wrigley gave me an opportunity to talk about something serious, too. The only time Hanni ever went with me to a game at Wrigley Field, the man taking tickets said he didn’t know if the dog was allowed. I pointed to Hanni’s harness, told him she was a Seeing Eye dog. He sent me to a different gate. The man at the second gate wasn’t sure. He’d have to get a supervisor.

Turns out that a week earlier someone had brought their puppy to Wrigley, claiming the dog was a service dog. The dog misbehaved, and fans sitting nearby complained. After that, the people working the gates were told to scrutinize anyone coming in with a service dog.

“The guy who brought the dog in with them was pretending he had a disability, just so his dog could come along,” I told the kids. “And that’s not right.” I didn’t have to explain ADA law, or how long the Seeing Eye and other pioneering guide dog schools had worked to get access legislation passed, or what backlash means. The kids understood. And they agreed with me. “

That’s not nice!” one of the kindergartners in front said. She sounded troubled. That’s when I remembered. I hadn’t finished the story. The supervisor finally said we could go in, I assured them. “It just wasn’t right to make Hanni and me wait while everyone else got to walk right in.”

They agreed. After all, we might have missed batting practice. And everyone knows, duh, that batting practice is your best chance to get autographs. Or catch a baseball!

Do I Look Like Michelle Obama?

It’s weird, not being able to see myself in a mirror. Instead of dwelling on things I can’t do, though, I try to take advantage. Brush my teeth, comb my hair, wash my face. Smile, and assume I look like I did when I was in my twenties.

But then, every once in a while, a comment throws me off for a while. Yesterday I got an email from my dear friend Steve:

you’re probably tired of hearing this, but every time I see Michelle Obama, which is a lot lately, there’s something about her face that makes me think of you. Which makes me like her even more.

Ironically, shortly before receiving that note, I’d been talking to a woman in the locker room where I swim.

“Have you seen Barrack Obama?” she asked. I couldn’t’ know for sure, but from the sound of her voice, this woman was older. And African-American. I started to tell her yes, that I’d seen Barrack Obama in Chicago when he was promoting his Audacity of Hope book. But for some reason, Right before opening my mouth, I realized: she wanted to know if I’d ever seen Barrack Obama. So I told her no, that I’d been blind almost 25 years.

“He’s cute!” she said.

“Does he have a nice smile?” I asked. I can often tell — from the sound of a voice — that someone has a big smile.

“MM-hmmm,” she nodded. With a big smile on her face, of course.

And then I asked about Michelle Obama. I knew two things about her looks. For one, I’d heard on the radio that Michelle Obama is tall.

I’m tall, too.

For two, after Michelle Obama’s speech Monday night, I overheard a guy at our local tavern say, “Well, that Michelle Obama proved one thing: if you’re a woman, and you’re a Democrat, you can still wear a dress.”

I like wearing dresses, too.

“What did she do, did she go to school at Princeton or something like that?” the woman in the locker room asked me. “She looks like a school teacher. Or a librarian.”

“You mean she looks serious?” I asked.

“She looks smart,” the woman answered.

Note to my friend Steve: I’ll never get tired of being told I look like Michelle Obama.

Henry Has a Home

 

Henry, in safe hands after thumbing a ride from the ASPCA.

Remember my Lucky Dog blog post? It was about Kristen Limbert, the Coordinator for Humane Education at the ASPCA. While chauffeuring the Henry Bergh Childrens Book Award winners to a fundraiser to benefit a southern California animal shelter, Kristen stopped on a busy highway to rescue a puppy.

 

Now, that was one lucky dog. What were the odds of an ASPCA van crossing his path, headed directly to the local Animal shelter?! He had no tags, so was dubbed Henry — for the book award, of course! Kristen vowed that if no one adopted him by the end of the week, she’d take him home.

Many of you commented to that post, wishing the best for Henry. Well, guess what? You get your wish! Kristen emailed this week with this wonderful news:

I thought you all might like to know that Henry, the adorable little critter that let me rescue him off the California freeway has been adopted by a family out there. I had spoken to SEAACA (Southeast Area Animal Control Authority) staff on Saturday, when his stray hold was up, and at that point no prior owner had come looking for him. He was doing well, no longer limping, but still waiting patiently for a family. I was planning on taking him home myself, if he wasn’t able to find a new home easily and quickly. Such a sweet dog. However, I wanted to give him a few days, to see if a new caring person would come forward out in CA, saving him what would surely be a stressful flight to NY.

I called yesterday to check on him, and to begin making arrangements if he was still there, and he had been adopted!!

A smidgen of sadness, definitely, but I know it’s for the best. Hopefully he will have a happy, healthy life in Southern California. Good news for everyone involved!

Practice Run

 

2007 ASPCA Henry Bergh Award Winners

It’s been a week now since Hanni and I attended the cocktail reception in California to accept our ASPCA/Henry Bergh Children’s Book Award, and we’re both still walking on air. Finally this morning I’m coming down long enough to sit in front of my talking computer and compose a blog post about the big event. Eight writers won the Henry Bergh Award this year, some for fiction, others for non-fiction, poetry, young adult books, and so on. Two illustrators were also recognized with awards.

I was so excited to get to the reception that we arrived early — the room was pretty darn empty when we got there. Our early arrival turned out to be a good thing – it gave Hanni and me a chance to practice getting from our table up to the stage. You know, so we’d be ready when they announced our award! For the first dry run I let go of Hanni’s harness – I held on to her leash as someone guided us and pointed out where the three steps to the stage were. At the foot of the steps, I crouched down next to Hanni and pet her and rubbed her and told her over and over what a good girl she is. When I stood up, I put my foot on the first step. Tapping my foot then, and pointing to the step, I exclaimed, “Good girl, Hanni! Here’s where we want to go. Good girl!” We were led back to our table. I sat down, then helped Hanni situate herself underneath. After that, I pretended our names had just been announced. I pulled out my chair and called Hanni to come out. She did. Standing up, I lined my back against the back of the chair and commanded, “Forward!” Hanni led me right to the stairs. She was perfect.

She is perfect!

 

Joe Pentangelo, me, and Hanni

We tried it a few more times – the practice was more for me than for Hanni – until I felt fairly sure we’d make it without me falling. Or fainting. My Blue Marlin publisher Francine Rich arrived with her husband Jude around that time – they presented me with lilies. The fragrance was sensational. I felt like a star. The whole event was first class, fancy hors d’oeuvres, fancy drinks, fancy people. I even had a police escort! Joe Pentangelo, Special Agent for Humane Law Enforcement at the ASPCA — and one of the stars of the Animal Precinct TV show on Animal Planet — met Hanni and me at the stage and walked us to the podium to receive our award. Find out if we made it without tripping — or fainting! — by reading my next blog post, called Winners!!!

Lucky Dog

Wow. So many wonderful things happened while Hanni and I were in Anaheim to accept the Henry Bergh children’s book award from the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA) — it’d take an award-winning writer to sum it up in one blog post. Hey. Wait. I am an award-winning writer now! I oughta be able to condense this great weekend into 500 words, right? Let me give it a try. Sunday morning started with a fundraiser for the Southeast Area Animal Control Authority in Downey, CA. We’d do presentations there and sign books. Proceeds would go to the shelter.
 
The drive there took us speeding down one of those famous California eight-lane freeways. We were close to our destination when our driver (Kristen Limbert, the Coordinator for Humane Education at the ASPCA) saw a dog crossing the road. “I’ve gotta stop,” she said, merging through deadly traffic to pull over to the side, open her window and make kissy noises. The puppy was understandably confused by all the traffic, but somehow needled his way right into Kristen’s arms. Now, that was one lucky dog. What were the odds of an ASPCA van crossing his path, headed directly to the local Animal shelter?! He had no tags, so was dubbed Henry — for the book award, of course! Hanni stayed calm for the entire ordeal, and Kristen vowed that if no one adopts Henry by the end of the week, she’ll take him home.

My sister Cheryl and I--and Hanni, of course--at the American Library Association conference

After the shelter event Hanni and I joined my sisters Marilee and Cheryl at the American Library Association (ALA) convention center. Marilee had come from Orlando to join me; Cheryl had flown in from Seattle. We visited the Independent Book Publishers Association Booth to make sure the copy of Safe & Sound displayed there was front and center, then did the same at the ASPCA booth. After that, it was time for the ALA World Championship book cart precision drill team competition. From a blog post on LibGig:

What’s that you say? You’ve never heard of such a thing? What is a Book Cart Drill Team? Well, you know what a drill team is, right? And you know what a book cart is, right? Well put them together and you get the single most nerdcore sporting event ever. Presiding over the festivities were Mo Willems and Jon Scieszka. They entertained the crowd, conducted interviews and provided color commentary while the judges tallied their scores…

There were pinwheels, there were catch and release routines, carts were spun on one wheel. Librarians surfed on carts, did splits on carts, wore sequins and lab coats, and the singing was amazing!

I was not a judge, but the Bibliofiles book cart drill team from the Austin Public Library was my favorite. If you’ve read my previous blog posts, you already know how much Hanni and I love Austin. A lot was made of the drill team’s headgear (books that spun!) and I thought it was cool that the team learned sign language, donned white gloves, and interpreted their soundtrack to us. But what really sold me on the Bibliofiles was their grand finale– they rolled out a big banner of a famous Helen Keller quote: “Literature is my Utopia.” It was written in print, and in Braille. They took silver in the competition, and Marilee found a video on YouTube of their performance –check it out!

On Monday we went to an author presentation, signed up for contests, picked up free pencils, post-it notes, books and catalogs at exhibits, fronted Safe & Sound where necessary, then headed back to the hotel to get ready for the ASPCA/Henry Bergh Children’s Book Award ceremony. I slipped on my Lana Turner dress, Cheryl wore sequins, Marilee fluffed my hair and lent me her jewelry. Hanni stood proud as she guided me into the Anaheim Hilton for the event. True to form – I mean, Flo Finke didn’t raise no fools — we were the first to arrive at the party, and the last to leave. Yikes! I’m over 500 words already! I’m sure you are just on the edge of your seat, though, waiting for details of the award ceremony — guess you’ll just have to stay tuned for my next post!