Okay, here’s a confession. Even though I was surrounded by a dozen or so intelligent readers and writers at Hypster Mom’s Lit Salon, the only thing I wanted to talk about was Vodo & The Big Ticket. And now as I’m typing this I have no idea why I didn’t take a picture. I wrote down quotes, oh yes, I did (one included “oh yeah, I find myself drinking mustache water for like an hour.”) but I a picture never, ever crossed my mind.

From the moment I walked in the door, I couldn’t talk about anything else. I was all, “Hey Jags, Hey David, Hey Dale, Hey Beard.”

Since I last saw Vodo he’s grown this big, Grizzly Adams’ beard. It’s hilarious. Vodo’s a skinny hipster doofus who rocks the Buddy Holly glasses and the floppy boy hair. To see this big, bear-like beard on his face is weird. Really weird. And it’s not as though he looks bad, it’s just that he looks very unVodolike. More unVodolike than when he went from the long, luscious hair to the short, floppy boy hair.

I was obsessed with the beard. People kept asking him what he was up to, and I pointed at the beard and said, “Growing that thing.”
“Well yeah,” Vodo stroked the bushy thing. “It takes a lot of time. It’s like a plant you have to feed it and talk to it.”

Then I peed my pants from laughing so hard.

I kept trying to change the subject — music, books, writing — anything. We almost had a good discussion about superheroes and comic books, but every time he would ponder something he’d stroke the beard.

“What’s that?” I asked.
“What?” he asked.
“You keep stroking your beard. It’s like you want to call attention to it.”
“I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” he said.
“I hope you know I am going to blog this,” I said gasping from laughing so hard.
“If you do, make sure you call it The Big Ticket.”