Adventures in Marketing — Week 320

Sold a “Lollipop” and a “”Cheesesteak.”
The former went to a café pal who intended it as a gift for his daughter’s father-in-law, a semi-well-known East Bay political figure with an interest in urban violence. The latter went to a fellow I’ve been talking with in cafes for 30 or 40 years. He is a great talker. Like yesterday, in 20 minutes, at a table of eight, he discoursed on guitars, the Miami-Boston series, recliners, and brussel sprouts. (He is also good on the music of North Africa, eastern religions, and life in Laurel Canyon.)
Recently, he has been arriving at the café with a notebook. A few days before, I had asked what he was writing. He went on for 20 minutes about his poetry, its content and history, and I sat there nodding and thinking, Gee, he’s never asked me one thing about my writing, when it seemed to dawn on him that I had books on my able for sale. “I’ve never read anything of yours,” he said. “Which one would you recommend?”
So he’s off my Top 10 – maybe Top 3 – Non-Customers list.

In other news…
1.) Had two promising conversations with strangers. One was a 50-ish woman, a splash of Bonnie Raite white hair in a field of brown. As a two-year-old, she had been in a coma, so the back cover of IWKYA spoke to her. She was a psychoanalyst and knew several people Adele who had gone through the DMH program with. She was in a rush, so I gave her my card.
No sooner had she left, then up stepped a UC undergraduate of East Asian heritage. He was in computer science. He asked what I wrote, and I told him, but, though nothing I said seemed to register with any more impact than dew on granite. I invested a card in him too.
I have heard from neither of these people since.
2. The passing of Ray Liotta moved a couple of my correspondents to recall favorite moments in his films and one to repeat stories told by a son who had acted with him. I reply-all-ed that when efforts were being made to make a film of “Best Ride” 30-some years ago, the producers tried to get the script to Liotta, who had played basketball in high school, without success, a yarn which seemed to interest no one.
In fact, my telling it – indeed, this entire recounting of “Adventures” – may strike outsiders of evidence of my being self-absorbed.
This would seem a fair assessment.