I had appointment after appointment today, so I was walking through the streets of Manhattan for hours….which meant I overheard a lot of chatter.
My favorites were between kids and their parents.
Child: Mom, can I get a smoothie?
Mom: I don’t have any money.
Child: Well, can’t we just buy some?
Child: …we saw Adrian afterwards.
Grandmother: It’s nice that he lives close by.
Child: Yes, right by the sewer.
Child in Stroller: Woo Woo Woo Woo Woo Woo…
Dad: Do you simply have to be heard all the time?
Child: (silence) Yes. Woo Woo Woo Woo
I’m taking a class in children’s book publishing this semester at NYU. We’ve read picture books, middle grade, young adult, you name it.
I took the class the learn about the editing side of the biz…but the more I learn about children’s fiction and non-fiction, the more I’d like to take a stab at writing it.
The interesting twist is that, even though the books are for kids, the parents are the ones who buy and read them. So that’s why books like these are bestsellers.
Hey — maybe I can do this.
The more you know…
Did you know NBC has been producing those cheesy PSAs for 25 years?
I think they are some of the more cringe-worthy moments in television writing history, and I only have to watch them. The poor celebrities have to try and sell the stuff. But the network keeps cranking it out to meet their public service commitment to the local community.
Now, I’m not saying the ideas behind the messages aren’t good. But there has to be a more creative way to do it. Music videos. Demonstrations. Puppets. You name it.
I think the celebrity spokespersons and the audiences would appreciate it (and actually listen to the darn things for a change).
Someone has to know that.
It’s no secret that I’m claustrophobic.
There are security guards at the St. Louis Arch who probably still talk about the girl who hyperventilated all the way up the elevator to the top (and wouldn’t go back down…for two hours).
I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
So I am happy to see small children today won’t have any problem at all with small, enclosed spaces…what with their mothers wrapping them in plastic inside their strollers!!
I, on the other hand, am gasping for air just looking at those poor kids. Don’t they know their oxygen is running out?
When I was walking through baggage claim tonight in Terminal C at LaGuardia, I noticed a little boy — four or to five years of age, I’m guessin? — who was closely examining the wall-mounted water fountain.
His father stood patiently to one side as his son pushed the button again and again, seemingly fascinated by the stream of water he was summoning forth.
“That is so cool,” the boy said.
“It is really cool,” his dad replied.
And then we all smiled at each other and shared the moment, which was really cool, too.