Like a lot of pet owners I know, Lisa is certain that no one can take care of an animal as well as she can. I wanted to go up to this woman and ask, ‘What do you plan on doing with that thing once you lose interest in it?’” I don’t know what kind, but it was small-not much bigger than a doll-and was in a pink frilly dress. “Speaking of which, I was there a few months ago and saw a lady with a monkey. “I like to be at Starbucks right when they open, at five a.m.,” she said. I’d gotten up early to catch my flight from Raleigh, but still she had me beat by an hour. It was spring, and my sister Lisa and I were in her toy-sized car, riding from the airport in Greensboro, North Carolina, to her house in Winston-Salem. If we must live in interesting times, there is no one better to chronicle them than the incomparable David Sedaris. In Happy-Go-Lucky, David Sedaris once again captures what is most unexpected, hilarious, and poignant about these recent upheavals, personal and public, and expresses in precise language both the misanthropy and desire for connection that drive us all. And back on the road, he discovers a battle-scarred America: people weary, storefronts empty or festooned with Help Wanted signs, walls painted with graffiti reflecting the contradictory messages of our time: Eat the Rich.

Newly orphaned, he considers what it means, in his seventh decade, no longer to be someone’s son. His offer to fix a stranger’s teeth rebuffed, he straightens his own, and ventures into the world with new confidence. He vacuums his apartment twice a day, fails to hoard anything, and contemplates how sex workers and acupuncturists might be getting by during quarantine.Īs the world gradually settles into a new reality, Sedaris too finds himself changed.

To cope, he walks for miles through a nearly deserted city, smelling only his own breath. As Happy-Go-Lucky opens, he is learning to shoot guns with his sister, visiting muddy flea markets in Serbia, buying gummy worms to feed to ants, and telling his nonagenarian father wheelchair jokes.īut then the pandemic hits, and like so many others, he’s stuck in lockdown, unable to tour and read for audiences, the part of his work he loves most. David Sedaris, the “champion storyteller,” ( Los Angeles Times) returns with his first new collection of personal essays since the bestselling Calypso Back when restaurant menus were still printed on paper, and wearing a mask-or not-was a decision made mostly on Halloween, David Sedaris spent his time doing normal things.

Happy go lucky david sedaris