If you’re like me no past-time is dearer to your heart than breaking down and analyzing pop culture minutiae from days of yore.
One day Anna G. and I were reminiscing about the TV show The Hogan Family, (which nobody should remember in the first place). Up for discussion was the chatty, busybody redheaded neighbor who was always bursting in at the most inappropriate moments. Anna couldn’t remember her name, and since neither of us had thought of the show in fourteen years that wasn’t really a surprise. However after only moments of thought, up it came from the depths of my brain like so much resurfacing shipwreck debris. “Patty K. Poole!“, I cried. Anna stared at me in horrified amazement. A moment later I realized I left my bank card in the ATM machine I had used 20 minutes earlier.
My brain is full to bursting with useless factoids, analyses and insights into shit like Family Matters, Clarissa Explains It All and Sassy Magazine. The consequence of this store of knowledge is that other important information–i.e. certain tasks I’m assigned at work and when my credit card bills are due–have virtually no chance of gaining a foothold in my cranial space. Since this time I have referred to my affliction as “Advanced Patty K. Poole Syndrome”. The syndrome is described as a condition in which the sufferers brain is fulled with so much useless knowledge that new, pertinent and actually relevant information cannot be absorbed.
Another, far more commercially successful sufferer of PKP Syndrome, Chuck Klosterman is reading at the Union Square Barnes and Noble Monday night. The man who captivated us in Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs with his dissection of Saved By The Bell and John Cusack’s romantic appeal reads to us from his newest venture Downtown Owl.
It’s a novel described by the folks at The Boston Globe as existing within the subgenre of “small town quirkiana.”
I haven’t read it yet, but I know it’s about People who do Things and live their Lives in a small town.
Come for the reading and hang out for a possible Q&A chance to ask the man his opinion of The New 9210.
Monday June 22, 7 PM
Barnes & Noble (33 E 17th St)
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