Wayward: Fetching Tales from a Year on the Road

my first date with matt gross, the frugal traveler

I had never been to a bookstore reading before tonight. My distaste has had nothing to do with the author, who is often simply whored out on a press junket, kneeling in front of the genitals of potential amazon. com five-star reviewers. I can swallow that concept just as fast as the author can swallow the ejaculation that comes in the form of praise. Rather, my apathy seems more rooted in a suspicion that the audience would be a congregation of fucking dweebs.

Tonight’s little thingy at Idlewild Books didn’t completely upend this philosophy but it did help me turn a corner towards coming to terms with my own little inner dork.

I should start by saying that Idlewild Books in New York City is to a travel writer what Al’s House Of Titty Porn is to a porn addict. Mecca. Devoted entirely to travel, each section is arranged by location, as is custom. The owners have gone to great pains to include reading beyond guidebooks for each territory, therefore allowing for a piddly brain like mine to understand the cultural magnitude of places that my public-schooled-ass might not have known.

Borges’ Collected Fictions and Bruce Chatwin’s In Patagonia sit right next to Moon Buenos Aires and Lonely Planet Argentina. All of this is housed in a loft that feels decorated by real people and not architects who love to frolic in plywood. It felt like I was in San Francisco instead of New York City. That’s a huge deal in Manhattan.

The reason for tonight’s gathering of thirty-odd people was a talk by Matt Gross, otherwise known as The Frugal Traveler from The New York Times. Something of a Menudo scenario, Matt inherited the column from several other writers who have come in and out of the section since 1994. He’s added a blog topspin that seems to have breathed new life into the section.

It must be a sensational burden to begin your day with a word as un- sexy as “frugal” stamped on your byline. The thing is, Matt Gross is kind of a piece of ass. He’s got the geekchic thing nailed and could easily be a member of Weezer or Modest Mouse. He rocked a fresh new traveler beard, an early 90’s Gap sensibility and an endearing sense of humility. He was obviously well traveled and mentioned the name of each country with perfect pronunciation (“Oor-O-Gway”), yet pulled it off without a sense of self-importance. He ended up being sweet and disarming from the get-go, almost suspiciously so. I’m not suggesting anything terribly nefarious, but he might be the kind of guy who secretly harbors anal beads in the way-back of his closet.

Over the course of thirty minutes he read passages from a few books (lamenting the recent suicide of David Foster Wallace in one reading) and told a few tales from his recent Grand Tour of Europe, during which he re-imagined the “classic European journey” on less then 100 Euros a day. He covered everything from solo-traveler-psychology to Cambodian brothels to Organic Apple Farms to The French Riviera to the benefits of a Capitol One Visa card. There was no annoying reach for an overall theme or continuity, which went perfectly well for my ADD-riddled mind. I fucking loved the guy.

I have to admit the crowd was not as bad as I had imagined. Sure, there were the people who hung on every word and guffawed at even the weak jokes. There were the wine-grabbers, a couple of mid-thirties women who downed thirteen (counted) glasses of free wine between them. Or the lady who farted. Or the man who repeatedly licked the ghost of cheese from his fingers. Overall though, this was a group of people that I would probably like to hang out with. In fact, they might be the exact crew that I would choose if I could cherry-pick the other passengers of a hellish, six hour chickenbus ride through Peru.

Frugal Matt says that he’s been working on a book, tentatively titled Just Go. It seems to be an inspirational kick-in-the-ass for mainstreamers who might be wary of trying new places and new things.

I left Matt and Idlewild with my travel itch in high gear, knowing that there was an adventure around the corner in my life. The whole night gave me a kick in the pants to get going with my trip, to be done with the numbing day job and really try something crazy. Like write my way around the world.

So thanks, Matt. Maybe I’ll just go.