Feldenstein Calypso

August 17, 2013

Dear Mr. Pinkwater,

Several months ago I started writing a daily blog. More than any other author, as I write it, I find myself harkening to your writing, and often it provides for me a little bit of a compass in my work. The following is the one piece most explicit about that connection. From the comments I received I am thinking it may have sold one book for you! Though I suspect my readers use libraries or buy used. Anyway, thank you.

Let us, together, end the internet

In the totally wonderful Daniel Pinkwater book The Snarkout Boys and the Avocado of Death our teen narrator visits the family home of Rat (a teenaged girl) for breakfast. Her family is very eccentric, although, come to think of it, every single person in the entire book is eccentric, which I think is part of the enormous beauty of Daniel Pinkwater's writing and understanding of the world. Anyway, at the breakfast table, Rat's Aunt lectures passionately on the evils of opera. It turns out this is not a random speech, and that this Aunt has devoted herself to inveighing against opera, is fiercely against listening to opera, and is committed to explaining how opera can ruin your life. This mission of hers is matched in fervor only by her apparent love of opera. Any time not spent warning against the evils of opera she spends in her room, with her massive collection of opera albums, listening to opera.

There's just something about this…

Here's the world famous blogger writing away once again on the internet. What will he write about today? Every day must be something new, no resting on laurels here! He pauses mid sentence to wander the sprawling internet, home of his blog, for sustenance and inspiration. His hopes flicker. Why can't he find things he likes? 300 billion pages but he feels sad and lonely, uninspired and unentertained. Here is a link. It is a link to a link to a link to a link. It is very popular. The world famous blogger is jealous. The linkers to the links that have good links are more world famous than the world famous blogger. First it was called the "web", and "the net". Then it became the superhighway, the internet superhighway, and now, now it is the internet racetrack, a race, round and round and round. The world famous blogger parks his old battered internet car. "No," he says "This isn't working out." He heads off into the weeds, on foot. "I'm afraid the internet itself just hasn't worked out." He says sadly "And I'll be here daily, so come on by."

So that's why that one book of mine was sold!  Keep up the good work!