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Hi DP,
Just saw this photo of a dog that reminded me of the one in the lovely Hoboken Chicken Emergency:
http://www.bighappyfunhouse.com/archives/06/09/01/07-53-17.html
The guy who posted it lives in Chicago and shares pictures he buys at flea markets, etc. Thought you might get a kick out of it.
Yours,
Nichole
What a great picture! What a great dog! Nice! Not that I don't see that very expression every day of my life--but it still put a similar smile on my face. Thanks.
Hi Mr Pinkwater, I'm doing a biograghy all about you and I just need you to answer 3 questions.
1. What year did you go to Africa?
2. What year did you go to Asia?
3. What year did you go to Europe?
1. 1967/1968
2. 1967
3. 1959
Hi. When I was in 7th grade, I was growing up in Connecticut. I was also in a Catholic School. So in 7th grade, I did a book report on "The Snarkout Boys and the Avacado of Death". It was an insanely conservative environment, as you might imagine, and I got ridiculed a lot by my peers because my parents weren't Republican. I felt like a total fish out of water there. So, I went in front of the class, and described your book as accurately as possible. The class laughed frequently as I did so. The teacher told me that this was not a real book, obviously, and that I hadn't done my assignment. She just didn't believe that your book could be a real one at all, that's how narrow-minded it was there (this was back in the late 80s, btw).The next day I brought in a copy from my town library of "The Snarkout Boys and the Avacado of Death" to class, to prove that I was, in fact, doing a report on a real book. The teacher looked at the book, and read the flaps on it, and regarded it with ridicule and disdain. When she noted on it that got the Steve Leonard award, or something to that effect, she said that Steve Leonard was probably a third grader. She had no appreciation for anything that wasn't "normal" or what she didn't understand at all, like many of my peers as well. I felt like some of the protagonists in your books who felt out of place in an environment of conformity. n-e ways, I recently got that more recent edition of 5 novels of yours in one volume, and I'm currently enjoying rereading "The Snarkout Boys and the Avacado of Death" immensely. On americanfeedmagazine.com I also wrote an article there about how Catholic School back then drove me out of my mind. So you may be sick of hearing this, but I think that, if done right, some of your books would be great films. But I can't blame you if you don't trust Hollywood. That's all, and thanks for all the fun.
best,
Stefan Hurzeler
I wake up smiling every morning, thinking how I don't have to go to school, will never have to see moronic teachers, such as you describe, again. But ones like that hardly exist any more......do they?
Dear Mr. Pinkwater,
I've recently started Graduate Studies in Library Science, and in one of my lectures we were discussing what influences got us to consider becoming Librarians. I remember driving along Interstate 90, listening to "All Things Considered" to one of your commentaries. You were talking about a Library on the near west side of Cleveland, and how it was the heart of the neighborhood. I was so close, I almost drove to the library, to finish listening. Could you please forward me a copy of the commentary, so that I may share it with my Professor and fellow students? Thank you for your time and all the wonderful times I've shared with my son, through your books.
Ohhh, I wonder where that piece could be. There are more than 600 of those commentaries, and not being a librarian, or cut out to be one, I am not so organized. Unless it is in the book, Hoboken Fish and Chicago Whistle, we may both be out of luck--but thanks for your very kind words.
Dear Pinkwater.com,
I have found on your website the list of books by Daniel Pinkwater. What would be a mighty helpful addition to this would be to indicate which books are novels and which are picture books. Does this exist anywhere else, and if so, where?
I might add that I have just finished reading The Education of Robert Nifkin, and it was one of my favorite reads in a very long time! My aim is to locate over the web as many of Mr. Pinkwater's novels as possible, and, like Malcom X., by whatever means necessary.
Sincerely, J. Speer
The paperback compilations 5 Novels and 4 Fantastic Novels cover 9 of them, and there are a few more floating around, and of course, The Neddiad, in progress on this very website.
Dear Mr. Pinkwater
I have enjoyed your books and radio commentaries for a number of years; my personal favorite is Lizard Music, because it all seems so plausible. (I'm sure it really did happen, just as you reported). I am writing to request a source for the bit you did on NPR about taking the dog to the vet and your wife Jill not accepting the "dog is going to die" diagnosis and cooking chicken. I loved that particular bit, and the tie-in with the people in the two different long-lived communites whose secret to longevity seemed to be that they were such terrible gossips. I kept my Boykin spaniel alive 5 years after her initial estimate of 2 to 8 months (lymphoma)on home cooked chicken and rice (with green beans and sweet potatoes, yum) (oh, and Chemo)and the cat is now 19, in renal failure, eats nothing but home cooked chicken to which she looks forward eagerly enough to keep her keeping on. So I'd love a copy of the essay.
Thanks, and thanks for the great books you write for young people. My personal young people are now grown-ups, but are producing more young people, for whom I am finding copies of things like Pickle Creature. Thanks, Linda Ward
"It's bad news," the vet said.
"How bad?" I asked.
"Worst news possible," the vet said.
Maxine, the yellow Labrador was fidgeting. She'd had
enough of the veterinary clinic, and wanted to be getting
home.
"So, do you think we should hold off on her booster
shots?" Jill asked.
"Maxine won't be needing any more booster shots," the
vet said.
"So, what I'll do is call you in a couple of weeks,"
Jill said. "I'll let you know how she's doing, and we can
decide about the booster shots then."
The vet was starting to look a little scared. "Jill, in
a couple of weeks she won't be living. Probably, in a week
she won't be living. I did the tests twice. I'm sorry."
"Well, I'll give you a call, and let you know how she's
doing," Jill said.
We left the vet looking perplexed, and led Maxine out to
the car.
"What are you going to do, the chicken thing?" I asked
Jill.
"It's worked before," she said.
Two years have passed since that visit to the
veterinarian. Maxine is alive, asymptomatic, and in fact
seems to be in a better mood than before she got diagnosed as
terminal and began receiving a generous serving of chicken,
usually boiled, as part of her supper every single night.
Maxine isn't the first pet of ours to seemingly throw
off dire illness and live an extra-long life. It's not that
we believe in the magical powers of chicken--though cancer is
a wasting disease, and getting lots of high-quality protein
isn't going to hurt. The way we think it works is simply
that Maxine wakes up every morning knowing that if she is
still breathing and able to ingest by 4:00PM, she's going to
get all the white meat she can hold.
The vet refuses to test her any more. He says it would
be tempting fate. He also says he wants to come and live
here when he gets old and sick.
I told my mother about the chicken theory, but she was a
woman of no imagination. She's dead now, of course. When
she lived, she was friends with Sula, a Polish
Anthropologist. I never knew what they saw in each other.
Sula was quite the lively intellect, and lots of fun to talk
with.
She was a great favorite of the Soviets. They let her
go wherever she wanted, study what she pleased. What
interested her was that community of mountain-dwelling
Georgians some will remember from the yogurt commercials.
These are the people galloping around on horseback, and
fathering children when they're 97. She would visit these
mountaineers every year, and also spend time on an island off
the coast of Maine, where most everybody lived to be a
hundred or better. This went on for years.
I asked her what conclusions she had come to after all
the study. What did the two long-lived groups have in
common?
"Well, they are all smoking cigarettes. They are all
eating red meat. They are all drinking to excess, they
experience lots of stress, and they are terrible to their
children."
"So, what's making them live to be over 100?"
"They are also terrible gossips."
That was her theory. They never died because they
didn't want to miss any scandal.
I'm assuming they also put away a fair amount of
chicken.
Note -- the essay is also available in audio form over here. --Ed
This message is for Thomas M. Anderson, who remembered a book from his childhood that had a character, Mefirst. I think the book could be Manners Can Be Fun by Munro Leaf. I believe it was published in the thirties.
I'll tell him if I see him.
Hi Daniel
I wrote you last week asking if you had gone to Nettlehorst Grammer School. You asked if I had a brother Henry. NO. Actually I had sent my married name and my name before I was married and when I went to grammer school was Beckett.
Well? Did you go to Nettlehorst?
BEST
LOIS
Sure. I went to Nettlehorst. I later went to Lake View High School for a couple of years. No doubt you share my fond memories of the Belmont Avenue branch of the Chicago Public library, Belmont Harbor, Eddie's toyshop-cum-magazine stand across from Nettlehorst, and many other features of the neighborhood.
Dear Mr. Pinkwater,
I am a practitioner of the richly rewarding art of children's book illustration... a surefire shortcut to fame, fortune and guaranteed instant gratification.
As a practicing children's book illustrator and writer, I'd luv to send you a copy of my new book coming out in September, the title of which is 'One Smart Cookie' (Albert Whitman Fall 2006).
It's a story about a dog named Cookie who wears glasses and reads books and writes on the fridge with a dog biscuit. This lucky dog has electronically obsessed children for owners who do not read books much. It turns out a reading dog is a very useful pet. Cookie goes to school where he becomes a bit of a teacher's pet. But it all works out in the end though I shouldn't spoil the story in event you might by some miracle notice this book in the bins and bins full of similar books about reading dogs with eyeglasses named Cookie you might come across.
Anyhow, I would love to send you a review copy of this book only I'm too dumb to figure out where to send it.
I have an online illustration portfolio with samples from my Cookie book there if you're curious... mixed in with other art from other books.
http://www.johnnez.com/
Thanks for having this great site where real people can actually talk to you. I've had a great time reading through the messages. I wish publishers had sites like this.
Thanks!
Salami, Salami, Boloney
John Nez
p.s. I like that story you wrote about the polar bear that floats away down the Jersey shore. Also I love the Chicken stories too.
I even did up some chicken sketches for that once... since I couldn't get the image of a 5 foot chicken knocking on a door at the top of a stairway with a boy in a gatsby cap out of my mind. In general the wonderful philosophy you have created to share with the world of 'Damn the torpedoes and let's try and have some fun already' is an excellent philosophy to live and work by.
Have the publisher send it as a review copy, at their expense, not yours. And keep practicing.
I am 67 years old, retired, and have begun writing. After returning from a recent visit to NE to be with 2 of my grandsons, I got an idea for a kids "book." I read it to my writer's group and they bloody well applauded and strongly suggested I run with it. I was advised to touch base with you for guidance on obtaining an illustrator and advice on what to submit and to whom to get this small 3 page ditty published. PS your shtick on Chicago hot dogs remains an all time classic for me. As my Southern Spouse would say, "persheate it!"
Sid Goodman
Congratulations on having written something. So who advised you to come to me for "guidance on obtaining an illustrator and advice on what to submit and to whom to get this small 3 page ditty published?" What you need is an agent, or some other kind of expert who knows things about publishing and the market. I'm just a writer.
HEARD you and a PRI announcer doing The Cremation of Sam McGee and it reminded you of the parod I wrote for my daughter to celebrate her becoming a lcensed polce officer in Anchorage, some 15 years ago.
Thought you might enjoy it.
RL
THE PROBATION OF OFFICER LEHRMAN
There are strange things done in the Midnight Sun
By the officers in blue,
Each city street could tell tales so neat
Of the amazing things they do.
On Northern Ligths we've seen strange sights,
But the the strangest we ever did see
Was that night in the snow
When officer Lehrman had to pee.
Officer Lehrman was a PTA Chairman
Before she joined the force.
Mother of five, glad to be alive,
And just over a new divorce.
So she took the test and she beat the rest
And got through Acadamy.
Buit she didn't know that at forty-below
It would be so hard to pee.
She was bundled around witha sixteen-pound
Belt with cuffs, nightstick and gun
And a Kevlar vest hung off of her chest
But she wasn't having much fun.
The problem, you see, was she had to pee
But she couldn't leave her post.
So she waved off cars from the neighbohood bars
Like a frozen flashlighted ghost.
it ws Christmas Eve and a guy named Steve
Had taken too much to drink,
Ran out of the bar and drove off in his car
Without taking time to think.
Lehrman aimed for the john when her radio went on With a code that froze her gizzard.
Old Steve, who was smashed, caused a ten-car crash
On Northern Lights in the blizzard.
Out in the street she stood and it didn't feel good
In all that gear, you see
Holding her legs together in forty-below weather
Cause Officer Lehrman had to pee.
So she clenched her teeth and all beneath
Till a break in the traffic showed,
And she slipped arond back of a tarpaper shack
And she hoped that nobody knowed.
She tore off her gear, with people real near,
And God, how good it felt
To squat and pee on bended knee
And keep it away from your belt.
To straighten your back when the traffic came back
to get back out on the street.
And to finally know that at forty-below
There's just no way to stay sweet.
Now Lehrman's a woman who is only human,
And she cares for each officer brother.
She's a real good sport, so she said with a snort,
Let's each look out for the other.
The drunks out tonight put safe drivers to flight.
They drive as if they can't think.
And out in your cars these fools from the bars
Can make each of you wish for a drink.
So Officer Lehrman,ex-PTA Chairman
Who could hardly wait intil morning
Talked to each without trying to preach,
And gave this solemn warning:
Tonight if you're cursed with a helluva thirst,
And near Northern Lights you go,
Please be nice, take my advice, and don't eat yellow snow.
There are strange things done in the Midnight SAun
By the officers in blue,
Each city street could tell tales so neat
Of the amazing things they do.
On Northern Ligths we've seen strangest sights,
But the the strangest we ever did see
Was that night in the snow
When officer Lehrman had to pee.
(Apologies to Robert Service.)
Congratulations! You have written the one-zillionth poem in the manner of Robert W. Service....and probably the most tasteful one. Your imitation wolverine-skin certificate will arrive by 4th class mail.
Thanks Daniel,
I have already done the things you suggested to me about getting into writing children's books. Kathleen Roedder was a children's book critic and she suggested those things to me several years ago also a number of years ago. Now that I have more time, I just have to start submitting query letters. I know it is nearly impossible to break into the field.
Kids books are a favorite of mine and Ive been reading a gazillion of them and enjoy that hobby very much.
For some reason I hadn't realized I should look at your website for your answer. Better way to get the word out to everyone. Thanks for your ideas.
Loved your "cremation of s. mcgee" reading.
Of course, doing things that are "nearly impossible" can be a lot of fun.
Dear Daniel Pinkwater,
Did you ever snark out? How old do you have to be to snark out?
From,
Darby
age 8
I snarked out, and I was in high school. I hate to have to say this, but the world seemed to be a lot safer years ago when I did my snarking. I would be much more careful about snarking today, and I might do it in a different way.
As an artist, I was very disappointed when I found no examples of Jill Pinkwater's artwork on this website. Not only are you missing an opportunity to "pretty up" the pages, but you fail to gratify us right-brain folks. I for one am curious about and inspired by the works of all other artists, and I had hoped you would give equal attention to what is old-fashionedly, but correctly, called one's better half.
I thought there were some Jillustrations on this site. But you're right. More would be better. I'll ask her.
Hi DP!
Do you have any kids? And if so do they like reading and writing?
From your #1 fan,
Annie K.
No kids, but two dogs--and they love to read, though their ability to do so is limited.
This morning I listened to you and Scott Simon do the cremation of Sam McGee--delightful. I reminded myself again that you are the person who may solve my quest for a children's book I knew as a child. I cannot remember the title. I was born in 1941. It was available to me in younger years learning to socialized. It was illustrated. It had several characters, all which were associated with message intended. The one I remember the most is "me first". I believe there were other like "grabby" "nosey", etc. Can you help with this? I have three grandchildren with whom I want to share this book.
Thanks,
Tom Anderson
Nope--not a clue. Maybe some other reader of this site will recognize your book.
I was so happy to hear you on NPR this morning reading about Sam McGee...and to hear about this website. I've often wanted to let you know that you are important in the life of my family. One of our favorite and most-quoted lines is yours: My house is me and I am it, and it is all my dreams. When our neighbor painted his house four different CLASHING colors, we quoted that to him, and the rest of the neighborhood calmed down!
Thank you. My kids, husband and I send you love & gratitude!
Yaaay! Another nice reader! I may not be the best writer, (then again, I may--it's not for me to say), but it is certain I have the best readers of anyone.
Dear Mr. Pinkwater,
I would like to send you a copy of my new book "The ABCs of Central Park, an Alphabet Guidebook" because I like your work and would appreciate your opinions. You can see a bit about it on the web at www.lynaspress.com.
Thanks.
G. Lynas
Have your publisher send it, at their expense, as a review copy. But I can't promise to deliver an opinion--I have a full-time job.
Re: The reading of "The Cremation of Sam McGee" on NPR Weekend Edition Saturday today.
I remember one question, namely whether there was a moose on a Canadian quarter. I have never seen a moose on any Canadian coin. Canadian quarters often show a caribou, though.
Aren't caribou malnourished moose?
Hi Daniel
My favorite program is the Saturday Edition with Scott Simon on NPR and I have heard you on the show many, many times. Enjoyed the poem you read today with Scott.
I was born in Chicago and lived on Roscoe Street until I went to college. I graduated from Nettlehorst School and even went back for their 100th anniversary. I just think you went to Nettlehorst, too. Did you ever go back? The school has been remodeled and changed for the best.
LOIS URSILLO
You didn't happen to have a brother named Henry, did you?
