Slumus Lordicus" - Sedaris' father's experiences as a landlord of a apartment complex in the early 80s. A humorous reflection on his father's life as a landlord of a section 8 apartment complex (which is a kind of low-income housing). This story takes place in the 1980's. This essay was written in direct response to the mistreatment of gay men and women in America. Sedaris reflects on the mistreatment he has suffered just for being gay. In his latest collection, Sedaris has found his heart. This is not to suggest that the author of Me Talk Pretty One Day I thought of listening to Spalding Gray because he gives one man monologues, but the narrator of Monster in a Box had an irritating voice. Maybe one of his other books will have a better narrator.

I think I may have broken free of the endless Sedaris loop which I have had playing in my car, but I’m sure I’ll return to it eventually. If for no other reason than to hear about . . . . .That being said, it’s not going to come as a big surprise that this collection is more of the same types of stories we’ve heard in the past, but I have to say that Sedaris really shines when he talks about his sister, Tiffany, and his brother, Paul (a.k.a. The Rooster). Those were my favorites in the collection. This is an essay about the life of David's younger brother, detailing David's experience of the brother's birth, childhood, and eventual marriage. I have listened to his books many times over, that is, what I remember of them, as I am lying in bed trying to not think so I can sleep. What is it with old people and insomnia? At least I am not alone. But that is not comforting.

Repeat After Me" - Sedaris' visit to his sister Lisa, and his family's feelings about being the subject of his essays I read this again which was a happy accident. I didn't think I had. I have heard several of these stories in other works, so David does recycle a story here or there. This was a wonderful laugh and tension drainer for me. I really enjoyed some of these stories.My room was situated right off the foyer, and if the Tomkeys had looked in that direction, they could have seen my bed and the brown paper bag marked MY CANDY. KEEP OUT. I didn't want them to know how much I had, and so I went into my room and shut the door behind me. Then I closed the curtains and emptied my bag onto the bed, searching for whatever was the crummiest. All my life chocolate has made me ill. I don't know if I'm allergic or what, but even the smallest amount leaves me with a blinding headache. Eventually, I learned to stay away from it, but as a child I refused to be left out. The brownies were eaten, and when the pounding began I would blame the grape juice or my mother's cigarette smoke or the tightness of my glasses-anything but the chocolate. My candy bars were poison but they were brand-name, and so I put them in pile no. 1, which definitely would not go to the Tomkeys. Word spread that Mr. Tomkey did not own a television, and you began hearing that while this was all very well and good, it was unfair of him to inflict his beliefs upon others, specifically his innocent wife and children. It was speculated that just as the blind man develops a keener sense of hearing, the family must somehow compensate for their loss. "Maybe they read," my mother's friend said. "Maybe they listen to the radio, but you can bet your boots they're doing something." I will tell you, audio is the ONLY way to go when it comes to stories about the youngest Sedaris – be it David or Amy’s impersonation, you’ll be hard-pressed not to look like a hysterical maniac if driving while listening.

I opted to schedule a mental health vacay day instead and went home to immerse myself in my favorite type of therapy this time of year – decorating Christmas trees (with an added bonus of listening to the soothing sounds of David’s dysfunction this go ‘round). Dress Your Family was a great blend of stories of the Sedaris children and parents (words cannot express how much I adore Sharon, their mother), the Sedaris children as adults, David and Hugh and everything in between. Thanks to the combo of some sort of sinus condition/basement dust I lugged upstairs along with the decorations, I laughed until I was overtaken by an emphysema-ish coughing fit/wheeze that may or may not have concluded with me urinating a bit on myself - and if THAT isn’t an endorsement, I don’t know what is. In many ways 2020 probably hasn't turned out quite as David Sedaris imagined it in the early 2000s, his father still being alive--going on 96 and living an assisted living home last I heard--being the most positive aspect.David becomes a professional maid, and this essay tells of a time when he was first starting that new job, and he went to a house where he found a very confused sexual fetishist who thought David was there for different reasons. Having read all about rich and fabulous Sedaris in Calypso, it was nice to read not always so rich but still as quirky and hilarious Sedaris in this one. With a childhood right out of The Virgin Suicides--you'd think it was about the only book I've ever read based on how much I'm referencing it lately--what's not to love? Cue quote about love: "Real love amounts to witholding the truth, even when you're offered the perfect opportunity to hurt someone's feelings." David Sedaris doesn't usually make me go awww, but come on, that's pretty cute, especially given that he dedicated the book to his longtime boyfriend Hugh.

Sedaris is a master at autobiographical essays. These short form pieces about his life read like carnival folklore, so seemingly unreal at times it feels surreal. Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim is a 2004 collection of twenty-two autobiographical essays by American humorist David Sedaris. Each of the essays reflects on a different part of his early life, blending his trademark cynicism with an acute sensitivity to the absurdities of seemingly banal experience. The collection, Sedaris’s fifth, focuses primarily on memories of his dysfunctional and eccentric family in North Carolina. Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim received positive criticism for its vivid portrayal of many peculiarities of suburban American life. Like his earlier performances, the essays are sardonic, funny and wry, but at the same time there is a new strain of introspection that makes for a book with more emotional resonance, a more complex aftertaste. The embarrassments of adolescence, the difficulties of connecting, the sense of being a perpetual outsider—these perennial themes of the author are not simply played for self-deprecating laughs in this volume, but are made to yield a more Chekhovian brand of comedy.— Michiko Kakutani The New York Times

This is an essay reflecting on the expectations we often make about popular kids in school, versus the reality of their lives. Some of his other books are not quite so warts-and-all. If you try Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim on for size, realize it may not suit you. Perhaps try on another first and ease your way into this strange fashion. Sedaris was 13 when he began feeling like a hippy. He started dressing differently, much to the chagrin of his friends and family, but perhaps it was the idiosyncracy that Sedaris liked most. When Sedaris visits his sister Tiffany's house, things get confrontational. He tells about their private sibling history. My room was situated right off the foyer, and if the Tomkeys had looked in that direction, they could have seen my bed and the brown paper bag marked MY CANDY. KEEP OUT. I didn't want them to know how much I had, and so I went into my room and shut the door behind me. Then I closed the curtains and emptied my bag onto the bed, searching for whatever was the crummiest. All my life chocolate has made me ill. I don't know if I'm allergic or what, but even the smallest amount leaves me with a blinding headache. Eventually, I learned to stay away from it, but as a child I refused to be left out. The brownies were eaten, and when the pounding began I would blame the grape juice or my mother's cigarette smoke or the tightness of my glasses—anything but the chocolate. My candy bars were poison but they were brand-name, and so I put them in pile no. 1, which definitely would not go to the Tomkeys.