FAQ

A friend of mine in the Columbia writing program has an FAQ section on his Web site (that's Frequently Asked Questions, for those of you born in and around the nineteenth century), and I have to say, it makes me a little bit jealous of him. Mostly because it comprises, in nearly its entirety, the same questions I have on my Questions I Never Get Asked list. For example:

What do you read?
I’m by no means a fast reader though I do manage an average of 50 books a year, most being literary fiction, classics and contemporary alike. See Reading List for suggested titles.

Practically nobody asks me that when they find out I'm a writer. Nobody! It's a sin, frankly, because I have some pretty good taste in literature (The few questions on his list that I do get asked a lot are also on my Questions that Annoy Me list. Like, "Where do you get your ideas?" From my brain, typically.) Anyway, after much deliberation, and a few late-night conversations--possibly/probably including alcohol--I have decided that this blog needs an FAQ. So here they are, the questions everyone asks me all the time. In no particular order.

1. How do you spell that?
It's spelled R-O-S, as in Samuel-S, as in Samuel-I. As in, "Martini and Rossi," which is a vermouth company. Alternatively, you could think of it as being like Carlo Rossi, the maker of fine jug wines. Carlo is, in fact, my uncle from a somewhat estranged side of the family. We don't see him much, but I like to support the family business.

2. Paper or plastic?
Plastic, typically. I know it's not the most environmentally correct way to go on this particular question, but I find I have more use for plastic bags than I do for paper. I can store halved onions in plastic, for example, or any fruits and vegetables that would otherwise do poorly in my fridge. I've also made good use of plastic bags in place of bubble wrap for sending out delicate packages, whereas all I've ever done with paper bags is add them to the trash pile. Or, on occasion, made them into puppets for live-action versions of Fandango commercials.

3. How was your trip?
My trip was probably fine. I don't think I've ever taken a trip that didn't qualify as strictly fine. Which is to say, I've never had a trip take any disastrous turns, but I've also never had a trip so free of basic annoyances that it qualified as transcendent or even great. Most of the time, the trip does get me there and back, though, so I can't really complain. There was this one trip with my friend Holly, though, that went, not exactly disastrously, but kind of berserk.

We were driving from North Carolina to Philly together for the holidays, with a stopover somewhere in Delaware. Newark, I think. Somewhere in Virginia, about two hours south of Richmond, her car stalled and wouldn't get started again. Holly called AAA, and in short order, we were met by two mechanics--one large, who we named the Big Guy, the other small, who we called the Little Guy. The mechanics took a look at the car and said something very necessary had died. I think it was the alternator, but I wouldn't know. So the alternator died and the nearest alternator was two weeks away. We asked for a ride back to their shop to make a phone call, and they told us if we did that, one of us would have to ride in the car. Which was on back of the tow truck. Since neither Holly or I thought we'd be able to live with ourselves if the other person died while on back of the truck, we both decided to ride in the car. It was a little like tailgating at high speed. The two mechanics, seemingly oblivious to the danger Holly and I were in, sped down the highway and off onto a few winding back roads, until we were at their mechanic shop. Once there, Holly and I determined somehow that our best bet was to get one of the guys to take us to Richmond to catch a train. The Little Guy, whose name was Shorty, as luck would have it, volunteered for the task, and off we went. This time inside the cab of the car. Upon arriving in Richmond, we couldn't find the train station, but were able to find the airport. There, we tipped Shorty and thanked him, then bought a plane ticket at the last minute for Philly. This was back in the day when you could still buy a last-minute plane ticket. And with that, the adventure ended.

But yeah, other than that, my trip was fine.

4. Why do you ask?
No particular reason. I was just interested. Really. More often than not, unless the thing I'm asking about is really dire, like "Do I have skin cancer?" or really official, like "Where do I sign?" I'm just asking because I was interested. If you have to ask me why I'm asking, odds are good, this is the answer.

5. What's up?
Not much. What's up with you? Unless there's something madly exciting happening to me, I'd rather hear what's going on with you. Hence the infrequency with which I update this blog. And the number of women I've dated who claim I never tell them anything about myself. Honestly, I'm not that interesting.

6. Are you hungry?
I'm not particularly hungry at the moment, but I could probably eat. I think I've actually come to this answer out of a need to be vague in response to a vague and kind of leading question. The way it goes in my family is that they ask me if I'm hungry, and I say yes, they immediately feed me when I get home. If I say no, they've been known to delay dinner. Which is really the exact opposite of what I want at any given time. Unless I'm really starving, in which case I'll just fix myself a snack, I don't need to be fed the immediate instant I get hungry. So I always find it best to cop to having, not a sense of hunger exactly, but a general disposition towards eating. That hedges my bets nicely.

7. How long are you going to keep this joke going?
I guess that's really it, but in truth, I could keep going for as long as it takes for the joke to stop being funny. And then some. It takes a long time before I cut off a thought that's made me laugh. I mean, take this one. It continues to amuse me so much that I've actually gone back, now, weeks later and added to it. Because there was unfinished tomfoolery to be had, and I cannot have that. That's how dedicated I am to a joke that's only modestly funny to me. Imagine what I do when the joke really gets me off. Go on...imagine. I'll wait.

And there you go. The questions I get asked with the most frequency.