I got to meet David Rakoff tonight after his reading at Mo Pitkin's House of Satisfaction on Avenue A. (Is that a great name for a venue or what?) He read from his new book, which I've been enjoying very much this past week and a half. Plus, I got to him to confirm that the civics nut Sarah in the first essay about him getting his U.S. citizenship (he was originally Canadian) is indeed Sarah Vowell. Apparently they all know each other: Rakoff, Vowell, David Sedaris, Amy Sedaris. Perhaps via This American Life, perhaps because they're all just New York essayists of a certain age and temperament.
Rakoff led off the reading, and then segued into the act of another guy named Dave Hill, who either is or isn't employed by Doubleday to drive writers to East Coast readings. I'm going to go with isn't, but that was the role he played in a funny little short starring the two Daves about a supposed trip to Boston for a reading by Rakoff. Being that there is a passing-traffic shot that's repeated about a dozen times in the short film, I'm going to have to assume that it was all just a bit of fun, and wasn't shot in Boston at all. After all, most writers have to get to book signings on their own, right? Dave Hill deadpanned from his "forthcoming memoir," which included a mildly funny rumination on crazed chimps.