At lunch I left the office and walked to the library. It's only about a block. But on Tuesdays the library doesn't open until noon. I got there at 11:41. So I walked around the civic center. Did you know that the new 'Aquatic Center' is open Monday through Friday from 6:45 a.m. to 9:45 a.m. for laps? Amazing!
When the library opened I checked out two books. Then I went back to the office and worked 'til 5:00 p.m. The I drove home and had dinner. I started reading the first book during dinner. It's now 9:00 p.m. and I finished it.
Summer times, when I was in high school, I would read a book a day. Life its ownself made keeping up to that schedule impossible. But I'd like to get up to four a week. That's doable.
Right now, behind me, I've got Cricket on, some kind of cup play from England, with the English against the Indians. From the looks of them, they're Apache.
The Effable, almost ineffable, Efforts of one Man to Change his Pants.
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12 comments:
I used to read more... But that was back in the day before I had television. My problem is that I often leave the TV on for "background noise." But I always turn it to Discovery, History or Science Channel, which means I'm halfway interested in what's on. I end up reading in desperate little bits here and there during commercials. Consequently, I retain nothing of the TV show, nor of the book.
Have you ever read Watership Down? (Has nothing to do with boats.) It's the only non science-fiction (speculation) book on my "top five" list. 'Tis a very well-written piece of fiction indeed!
Was that the one about the rabbits? If so, I started it, but when it turned out they didn't have any 'magical' powers, I put it aside.
I'm happy if I read one book a week, and by "book," I mean "half an issue of Parade Magazine." Four a week is just hubris, and would require ignoring the people in my life to such an extent that I would actively be choosing fictional characters over real people. And fictional characters are much quieter when they're ignored.
On the other side of the coin, fictional characters never borrow money, never puke in the hallway just outside the bathroom, never pat my wife's ass, thus forcing me to damage my knuckles, never complain when I can't come pick them up at a bar they're too drunk to drive home from, etc., etc.
Fictional characters make up in consistency what they lack in substance.
Believe me, the real human clowns who populate my world DESERVE to be ignored.
Are you a speed-reader, Mr. Bananas? Or does your reading of choice feature a great many illustrations? I cannot read an entire novel in such a short time span, so I'm wondering if you have some secret powers in this respect.
If I may recommend my favourite book: The Stars' Tennis Balls by Stephen Fry. The London Times described it as "a gruesome romp through the canon of human wickedness". Katrocket describes it as "a fine modernization of The Count of Monte Cristo, with better fashion sense."
Talking rabbits aren't magical enough? Whaddaya want? Lasers coming out their ears?
Kat, I speed read. I skip all the punctuation marks and ignore capitalizations. Also, I skimp mightily on comprehension. All these tricks were taught to me by a mute bunny..., speaking of which, I now must back track, find, and finish Watership Down.
I shall find and read The Stars' Tennis Balls. But I'm curious... Based on your description, why didn't he name it The Tennis Stars' Balls?
Oh, never mind. Let me puzzle it out for myself.
"We are merely the stars' tennis balls, struck and bandied whichever way please them." - The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster
Why is every book a "romp?" Why is every comedic writer "irreverent?" I hate book jacket speak. I do, however, love pictures of authors reclining with pipes and tweed jackets.
As for this Count of Monte Cristo, I enjoy his sandwich, but I accidentally spilled some Swiss cheese from one onto page 238 of his book when I attempted to read it. Fearing that the cheese-ruined page would contain crucial setting descriptions or plot points, I threw the book into the fireplace. There wasn't a fire in there or anything, but it's really tough to get in there to retrieve it, especially with my knees being what they are.
What I'm trying to say is that God doesn't want me to read it.
What kind of office do you go to? I thought you painted the numbers on the curb. Do you read books about that too?
Ms. Even-Handed Hope, my curb number painting business is in it's 25th year, having been started in early 1982. It's not just me with a can of paint, a brush and some stencils, although that it how I started. There are days I don't get to leave the office. But I much prefer getting out in the brilliant weather of SoCal, meeting and taking care of the curb numbering needs of the diverse population of said SoCal. I have one of those personalities that is attractive to people. I often gather a crowd of people eager to talk to me as I make my way up a block. I'm a lucky, lucky man.
As for a book about the ordinary life of a curb number painter... I figure it's the fact that there's no sex involved that has been the sticking point in getting one published. The closest I ever come to sex is getting my leg humped by the occasional friendly, uninhibited pooch.
Isn't it weird that cats never dry to dry hump available humans?
Cats don't even like humans much.
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