swede
12-19-2008, 09:58 PM
I waited two hours in the local Piggly Wiggly to have DD sign a copy of his new children's book. "Quickie Makes the Team".
About 400 books were signed in 90 minutes. Considering the 10" of snow that fell in the hours before his visit it was an okay turnout.
It is hard to believe that Driver came from such a tough background. He is well-spoken and kindly mannered. His lovely wife was there along with his two beautiful children. Some sort of a PR handler and a brother completed the entourage. Brother was affable enough, but I sensed a little sibling annoyance at the warm feelings constantly gushing out toward his brother. "He's just a football player, man," the brother was heard to say.
Waiting for Donald to arrive there were some persons who were so nervous that they were downright anxious, which struck me as funny because the brother was right after all if you really think about it. He is just a football player.
To put it a better way, Donald Driver is as much a person as you or me, but he happens to play football.
Now I certainly wasn't nervous, but I looked forward to shaking the hand of a player I really respect. If I could choose one Packer player to have as a friend it would be Driver. He overcame so much, worked hard, and became, from all evidence that I can see, a person who may be a better human being than he is a football player, which of course is saying a lot.
I shook his hand, he signed my book, and he thanked me for coming out in such bad weather and bid me get home safe.
Which I did. Thanks for getting me home safe, DD.
btw...the book is autobiographical and cute, but the illustrations were distractingly bad. The book could have been a real treasure with, say, realistic watercolor illustrations, but it is decorated instead with garish cartoons; all males are portrayed as absurdly muscular and all women are portrayed with enormous cartoon-y boobies. Think of those carnival artists that draw your portrait in ten minutes, exaggerating your features and distorting your physical proportions. I think Donald might have been doing some friend of his a favor by tossing a little illustrating work his way. Oh well, the profits go to charity and it probably was never going to be under consideration as a "Caldecott" book anyway. So the book can at least be recommended on its merits as a means to help others.
About 400 books were signed in 90 minutes. Considering the 10" of snow that fell in the hours before his visit it was an okay turnout.
It is hard to believe that Driver came from such a tough background. He is well-spoken and kindly mannered. His lovely wife was there along with his two beautiful children. Some sort of a PR handler and a brother completed the entourage. Brother was affable enough, but I sensed a little sibling annoyance at the warm feelings constantly gushing out toward his brother. "He's just a football player, man," the brother was heard to say.
Waiting for Donald to arrive there were some persons who were so nervous that they were downright anxious, which struck me as funny because the brother was right after all if you really think about it. He is just a football player.
To put it a better way, Donald Driver is as much a person as you or me, but he happens to play football.
Now I certainly wasn't nervous, but I looked forward to shaking the hand of a player I really respect. If I could choose one Packer player to have as a friend it would be Driver. He overcame so much, worked hard, and became, from all evidence that I can see, a person who may be a better human being than he is a football player, which of course is saying a lot.
I shook his hand, he signed my book, and he thanked me for coming out in such bad weather and bid me get home safe.
Which I did. Thanks for getting me home safe, DD.
btw...the book is autobiographical and cute, but the illustrations were distractingly bad. The book could have been a real treasure with, say, realistic watercolor illustrations, but it is decorated instead with garish cartoons; all males are portrayed as absurdly muscular and all women are portrayed with enormous cartoon-y boobies. Think of those carnival artists that draw your portrait in ten minutes, exaggerating your features and distorting your physical proportions. I think Donald might have been doing some friend of his a favor by tossing a little illustrating work his way. Oh well, the profits go to charity and it probably was never going to be under consideration as a "Caldecott" book anyway. So the book can at least be recommended on its merits as a means to help others.