Today was a potentially great day for me. To start, Cosmopolitan UK named my next book, Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend, #1 on their Best Books for February 2012 list and offered a glowing review.
The cover of the book also appeared publicly for the first time, and it’s one that I love. In fact, I have seen a sneak peek of the US cover as well and am blessed with a bounty of great art for both sides of the pond.
The actual UK cover will feature a quote from the very generous, internationally bestselling author Jodi Picoult. Ms. Picoult offered me the best blurb of my life in regards to the book. It reads:
A novel as creative, brave, and pitch-perfectas its narrator, an imaginary friend named Budo, who reminds us that bravery comes in the most unlikely forms. It has been a long time since I read a book that has captured me so completely, and has wowed me with its unique vision. You've never read a book like this before. As Budo himself might say: Believe me.
A pretty good start to the day. Right?
During the school day, I managed to earn my students’ respect in a realm rarely achieved by an elementary school teacher:
A truly outstanding a cappella group performed at our school this afternoon, singing a number of Motown hits by Michael Jackson, KC and the Sunshine Band and others. The kids loved this music, which I thought was odd since they normally make fun of me for liking “old music” like The Beatles, Van Morrison and Springsteen.
When I questioned them about this after the performance, they explained that Michael Jackson, The Who, Neil Diamond and others are not considered old in their minds (a few admitted that The Beatles were probably acceptable as well). When I showed them that I have 38 Michael Jackson songs on my phone, they gained an immediate, albeit grudging, respect for my taste in music.
I went on to show them the 67 Neil Diamond songs, the three full albums by The Who, and the handful of songs by new artists like Katy Perry, Maroon 5 and Lady Gaga that currently reside on my phone.
They left school feeling like I possessed a modicum of coolness, which in the land of ten-year olds is quite an achievement for any adult.
At dinner, I told my daughter that I loved her, and with a piece of bread still stuffed in her mouth, she said, “I love you so much, too, Daddy.”
Clara has said that she loves me many times before, but something about her earnestness and sincerity nearly brought me to tears.
It was as if she really understood what the words meant for the first time.
Later, I felt our baby kick inside my wife’s belly for the first time. Actually, I felt it kick several times. It was jumping around so much that it nearly made Elysha sick.
I still remember the first time I felt Clara kick, and this was just as exciting.
An unforgettable moment, both then and now.
But the Patriots lost the Super Bowl on Sunday night, and in horrific fashion, so all this good news was wasted on me. There was no way in hell that I was going to feel at all good just 24 hours after a loss like that, regardless of what happened during the day.
Nice try, universe, but I don’t think so.