open book

After standing in line for two hours at a suburban Costco in order to simply shake a man's hand and get his signature, I've come to the realization that book signings are simply lame. The 20 seconds of conversation didn't do it for me either - it could've been had with anyone, in any city: "Oh yeah, I really like (insert name of your fair city here). I'd love to move here, but my wife wouldn't want to. She can't stand (insert undesireable quality about your fair city here)." For me, it was Seattle/gray. For others it could be Santa Cruz/hippies, San Francisco/traffic, Chicago/cold winters, Key West/hurricanes, San Diego/cost of living, etc.

But don't get me wrong, I still think Alton Brown is the man. I'd just rather sit and have a cup of tea in his kitchen while he whips me up a batch of biscuts. (Hey, a girl can dream, right?) And his books are most excellent, although I'm not quite sure why my book is better now that it's got some scribbles on the first page that say, "To Amanda, -AB." It just loses the whole idea of personalization after standing in line for two hours and watching the hundreds of people before and after me go through the same motions.

I'm not sure what I was expecting at a book signing though. I know he wasn't planning on making me biscuts, but a reading or some sort of talk would have been nice. It being at Costco should have given me some clue. Oh well, now I know.

And knowing is half the battle.