The Decision to Attend
What matters when adulation becomes passé?
by Jay Rehak
ONE-HUNDRED-YEAR-OLD RENOWNED author Alice Bainbridge hated it when she was referred to as a “master storyteller.” In her mind it always felt a little dishonest and a lot pretentious.
So when her caregiving grandson, Eddie, brought in the mail one cold Chicago January morning, and announced to her that she was to be honored in a month at the Midwest Writers Conference as a “master storyteller,” Alice wasn’t sure she would go.
“First of all, Eddie, I don’t need any more awards. I mean, if they give me a plaque, what would I do with it? You’ll just have to throw it out when I die. That’s just a waste of a good piece of wood.”
“Come on, Alice, it’s something to look forward to,” Eddie said.
“Second of all,” Alice said,