COLUMNS
Talk Show 28 with Thomas Beller, Joshua Furst, Elizabeth Graver, Dave King, and Binnie Kirshenbaum
/ Jaime Clarke
07.29.09
––What were some of the perks of winning?
Beller: You got a patch. You got one for every level. So this was the last patch—It said Tennis VI, and had the camp logo. I think if I had gotten it early in the season there would have been an outcry of protest that a dinker got it, but it was right before the end of camp, real life was about recommence.
Furst: A satisfying, and completely unearned, sense of accomplishment. Also, the public shame of having displayed an unseemly amount of mother-love. And then, also, the warm glow of knowing my mother knew I loved her.
Graver: I got published in The North Adams Transcript at the age of seven. And sold my soul. That all made an impression on me, but especially the selling your soul part. I was taken aback by being asked to change the ending, though it didn’t occur to me in any serious way to consider saying no. It was an interesting introduction to the world of publishing.
King: The prize was not actually a ribbon or certificate, but a fancy die-cut model of a haunted house. It was from Hallmark, and I thought it was fantastic: incredibly intricate in all its details and in its clever use of folded cardboard. The teacher had already put the thing together, and when she unveiled it and said it would be the prize for the story contest, I knew I wanted it, whatever the cost. In fact, I’m not terribly materialistic, and this may be the incident of greatest covetousness in my entire life, so it was something of an aberration, but at the same time it was very real.
I suppose I could claim I was overcompensating because we’d just moved to that school district, and the kids in my new school had all learned multiplication, which hadn’t been taught yet at my previous school; so I entered third grade as one of the dumb kids. But at the same time, I was reasonably well liked. I had friends and did Cub Scouts and for a while our family went to church. So I really can’t lay this at a sense of inadequacy or social insecurity. I just had to have that haunted house. Desire’s such an odd thing.
Kirshenbaum: In this case, I suppose I could say there were perks to losing. I learned to cut a mean snowflake. And I could push it and say it helped me develop a thicker skin and fostered a sense of individuality, especially when on the day of the pageant the fifth grade filed into the auditorium. We took our seats, and then after the principal made a speech, Miss Gilbert blew a C-sharp on her pitch pipe and the fifth grade rose up and took their place on the stage, leaving me in the midst of three rows of empty seats. But probably the only real perk was that I didn't have to look at that bitch of a music teacher every week.
Beller: You got a patch. You got one for every level. So this was the last patch—It said Tennis VI, and had the camp logo. I think if I had gotten it early in the season there would have been an outcry of protest that a dinker got it, but it was right before the end of camp, real life was about recommence.
Furst: A satisfying, and completely unearned, sense of accomplishment. Also, the public shame of having displayed an unseemly amount of mother-love. And then, also, the warm glow of knowing my mother knew I loved her.
Graver: I got published in The North Adams Transcript at the age of seven. And sold my soul. That all made an impression on me, but especially the selling your soul part. I was taken aback by being asked to change the ending, though it didn’t occur to me in any serious way to consider saying no. It was an interesting introduction to the world of publishing.
King: The prize was not actually a ribbon or certificate, but a fancy die-cut model of a haunted house. It was from Hallmark, and I thought it was fantastic: incredibly intricate in all its details and in its clever use of folded cardboard. The teacher had already put the thing together, and when she unveiled it and said it would be the prize for the story contest, I knew I wanted it, whatever the cost. In fact, I’m not terribly materialistic, and this may be the incident of greatest covetousness in my entire life, so it was something of an aberration, but at the same time it was very real.
I suppose I could claim I was overcompensating because we’d just moved to that school district, and the kids in my new school had all learned multiplication, which hadn’t been taught yet at my previous school; so I entered third grade as one of the dumb kids. But at the same time, I was reasonably well liked. I had friends and did Cub Scouts and for a while our family went to church. So I really can’t lay this at a sense of inadequacy or social insecurity. I just had to have that haunted house. Desire’s such an odd thing.
Kirshenbaum: In this case, I suppose I could say there were perks to losing. I learned to cut a mean snowflake. And I could push it and say it helped me develop a thicker skin and fostered a sense of individuality, especially when on the day of the pageant the fifth grade filed into the auditorium. We took our seats, and then after the principal made a speech, Miss Gilbert blew a C-sharp on her pitch pipe and the fifth grade rose up and took their place on the stage, leaving me in the midst of three rows of empty seats. But probably the only real perk was that I didn't have to look at that bitch of a music teacher every week.