Last week, thanks to neighbors Pat and Ed Leaf, I had the opportunity to give a talk and sell some books. The event was an evening meeting of the Philadelphia Ship Model Society. It was held at the Independence Seaport Museum in Philadelphia, and two dozen people attended.
This was the first time I'd had a chance to do a "reading" for Eight Survived. For my first book, The Sea's Bitter Harvest, I made several dozen appearances where I either talked to audiences or greeted passersby and engaged them in conversation, hoping for a sale. I set up my table at restaurants along the New Jersey shore, in libraries, at boating and SCUBA clubs, anywhere I thought I might find an audience.
And I loved the experience. I met some very nice people and got to tell a story that I'd spent a couple of years reasearching.
So I was elated when Pat and Ed invited me to talk to the members of their club.
For the event, I wore what for me is the high end of my wardrobe. I ditched the blue jeans and T-shirt and wore a button-down shirt, tie, Blue blazer and gray slacks. I felt pretty spiffy.
Once we arrived at the museum, I saw that I was a bit overdressed. Everyone was in casual clothes. So I started my talk with the announcement that I would be taking an informal approach.
How informal, I didn't actually realize.
First I told my audience -- men and women who build incredibly intricate models of a vast array of ships -- about the sinking of the US submarine Flier on August 13, 1944. (I let them know that I was humbled by their expertise and would claim no such quality for myself.)
Then I read one passage from the book -- about three pages -- where some of the most vivid action takes place.
After I'd wrapped up by telling of the cast of characters whom the downed submariners met in the Philippines, I took questions. As you might expect, the questions were thoughtful an numerous.
By the time the final question was asked, I really needed to use the head. And that's when I discovered just how casual my talk had been.
For the previous forty-five minutes, while my mouth flapped so did my fly, which had been unzipped the entire time.
I had to laugh at myself. I guess I've turned a corner that secures my place among the senior citizens of the world.