Bill Bryson packed the house at Drake University last night. My friend and I, along with a whole lot of other Iowans, crowded into the Knapp Center so we could see the home town author who made it to the big time. We arrived a half hour early and were among the last to find chairs in the original seating area, though we had to divide and conquer to do it. I found an empty chair three seats in from the aisle. Getting the attention of the occupants of the first two seats was a challenge. The gentleman on the aisle sat with his head bowed, eyes closed, and his fingers in his ears. The woman beside him, I presume his wife, was intent upon the book she was reading.
Three loud “Excuse mes” and a tap on the shoulder later, I got their attention and squeezed past them to take my seat. The man returned to his meditation, the woman went back to reading, and I peeked at her book. The chapter title was “Sex and Other Diversions.” Then I saw the book title, The Life and Time of the Thunderbolt Kid. She was reading Bryson’s growing-up-in-Des Moines memoir, specifically the chapter where he spends years trying to get into the peep show at the Iowa State Fair. A hilarious read, but the woman never cracked a smile.
That changed when Bryson took the stage and told his stories. He had everyone laughing at his “You Know You’re an Iowan If…” list. His affectionate memories of life as a child in 1950s and 60s Des Moines had us crying, and the excerpts he read from his books held us spellbound. The whole evening was a giant family/school roast/reunion, a complete delight. For me the highlight of the night came during the open microphone Q and A time at the end. An elderly gentleman came to the mike, corrected an error in Bryson’s memoir, then revealed his identity. He had been Bryson’s Roosevelt High School English teacher.
The evening was magical and memorable, totally unique. I can’t recreate the experience, but I can enjoy more Bryson humor in his wonderful books. You can, too. Pick up his books at the library or the book store. Start reading and start laughing. And you’ll wish you’d start wishing you’d grown up in 1950s and 60s Iowa with those of us who did.
