Ralph Nader, Wally Lamb and Moi

House of Good Hope is a finalist for the Connecticut Book Awards in the Biography and Memoir category. Other finalists are Ralph Nader's memoir about growing up Winsted, Connecticut, and a collection of essays written by women in prison edited by Wally Lamb. I won't be able to attend the awards ceremony to hang out with the likes of Stewart O'Nan, a finalist for his rich gem of a novel Last Night at the Lobster, but I'm missing the ceremony for the very best of reasons. Friends Courtney Lowery and Jacob Cowgill are getting married in Montana, and I've been granted the privilege of officiating at their ceremony and pronouncing them husband and wife.

But if any of y'all would like to go to the Connecticut Book Awards or reception to follow, the good news is you can! Here's the info you need:

When? Sept. 21, 2 p.m.
Where? The atrium of the Hartford Public Library on Main Street in downtown Hartford
How much? FREE!
Free? Really? Well, the awards ceremony is. A reception and book signing to follow is $40. Get tickets by calling 860.695.6320 by September 15.

Truck No. 3915

Today I finished after two months -- yes, two months -- I finished reading Don DeLillo's book Underworld, which is a tremendous book, a really great American novel, a category of book that is good to have because though there will never be a single great American novel there are many, and because we have the category we can name them and include Roth's American Pastoral and Melville's Moby Dick and Fitzgerald's Great Gatsby and Morrison's Song of Solomon and others I'm forgetting. Underworld is a great book, but what matters today is that as I read the last pages, I heard a roar outside and a clang and there were the City of Baltimore sanitation workers in their orange Tees, one driving and two riding, house by house emptying the cans we'd left out for them all up and down Sefton Ave. They rode Truck No. 3915 and they picked up the garbage that all of us had placed in bags and tied off at the tops and placed the bags in the rubber barrels that we call cans, a holdover from when there were trash cans made of metal, and the men in orange Tees took those bags and threw them all together into the back of a truck with the bags from other streets. Those bags held torn credit card slips and used condoms and weeds pulled out from between rose bushes and DVDs that didn't work anymore, and warrantees for items that didn't work anymore and love letters and religious bulletins from Methodist churches and Catholic churches but not Unitarian churches because those bulletins are placed in the recycling and this was the garbage I'm talking about here, this was our lives and that's why reading Underworld has been a very good thing, and why, even though it seems a coincidence, it is worth mentioning that as I finished the book the City of Baltimore sanitation workers cruised our street, loud and shouting, as if at a party, to take our lives, our histories, away.