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Month: July 2011

Virtually Gone

I have a dream.

Not a MLK kind of dream.

Not the sleep kind of dream, either.

The wish kind of dream.

{ fin }

Which I guess is sort of like a MLK dream.  But not nearly so important.

I’ve had it for a long time.

I have a dream that one day I will I will sit Granny down in her recliner and place a certain gift box in her lap.

There is an Attorney version of the same dream where he is kicked back in his big leather club chair.

Both dreams end the same way.

Each one opens the box to find my first book inside.

My book that I intend to write.

One day.

But I have a feeling that it’s not going to ever happen.

Not because Granny is 94 and who knows how many years or months she has left.

But because who knows how many years or months books have left.

Things like the iNookKindlePad are putting actual real-live dead-tree books on the endangered list.1

That makes me sad.

Because a big part of the reading experience will be lost.

I love that experience.  The joy of it comes from more than just the words on the page.

It’s also way the words are typeset on the page; the way the page feels on your finger tips; the size and weight and smell of the book.

You can’t get that from a dry, sterile, flat piece of glass and circuitry.

For example, last summer when I decided to read “Gone With The Wind” for the first time, I discovered several different editions at the book store.  Hardback, paperback, this cover, that cover, pulpy pages, smoother pages, etc. I picked up and handled a copy of each one of them until I found the one that felt most like “Gone With The Wind.”

That may sound silly, I know. But such an epic story needed to come out of a book that felt epic.

I doubt that anything I write will be epic or on the order of “Gone With The Wind,” but I’m not too crazy about my life long dream ending with “Here, Granny, this is my first book.  It’s inside that thing along with some angry birds and a People Magazine.”

And I don’t think it’s just electronics that is killing books.

I think that, in general, fewer and fewer people read anymore.

Read books, I mean.

Sure, they read blogs, Twitter and Facebook (which is really much more abut faces than books).  And admittedly I am contributing to the demise of books with my own blog, Twitter account, and Facebook page.

But up until recently I assumed that people were still reading actual books as well.

I mentioned on Twitter the other day that all the talk about the new Harry Potter movie was fascinating to me because while I got a kick out of the books, I never have gotten into the movies.

I got a response from several people that they loved the movies but have never read the books.

That shocked me.  I just figured that anyone seeing the movies had an interest in them because of the books.

I mean, who doesn’t like books?

With a good book and your mind, you can create an infinite world, while a film limits you to the specifics of someone in Hollywood.

As someone who likes to write, it’s hard to imagine that there are people who don’t like to read.

It’s like Willy Wonka  discovering that folks don’t like chocolate.

Granted, I’ve haven’t written anything much in over a month.

I think because it’s summer.

I never have written much in the summer.

Maybe it’s a sort of “school’s out” thing held over from childhood.

Where I did always spend my summers reading.

As well as swimming and playing and getting filthy from sunrise until well after dark.

Now, as an adult, I still swim as much as I can.  And I definitely still like playing and being filthy.

But it’s a whole different kind of play and filth now.

And I still love to read.


What am I going to do when they are virtually gone?

  1. a list that is probably virtual now, too. []

All Good

This may fall under the heading of TMI1, so if you are sensitive in that way, stop reading.

Still here?

I figured so.

Anyway, this weekend The Attorney and I were laying around, afterward, chit-chatting.

About different things.

Dinner, upcoming football season, my graying beard, his thinning hair, marriage2, etc.

Then he just up and said, “You can be really dirty sometimes.”

He wasn’t talking about my hygiene or my character.

He was talking about my mouth.

When I’m down in the trenches3 and really get going, I can talk a downright filthy blue streak.

It’s nothing new.  I’ve been like that all the four and a half years we have been together4 but this is the first time he has ever really mentioned it.

Mentioned it in that way, I mean.  Like it might be something he didn’t like.

So, I asked him if it turned him off.

He said no.

Like an attorney, he only answers the question that was asked.   But, I knew that wasn’t the full answer.

“But it doesn’t turn you on,” I pressed.

“It makes your dick super rock hard,” he said.  “THAT turns me on.  So, it’s all good.”

He’s right.

It is all good.

When you have a sweetheart of a man like that, how could it not be?

{ fin }

  1. Too Much Information []
  2. in general, not specific []
  3. or trench, singlar, as the case may be. []
  4. as well as before I met him. []