It’s happened again, so I am grounded…
March 26, 2008 § 1 Comment
Last night HM’s band was practicing. At the drummer’s house. That means no scheduled dinner. Yay. That means writing time, 2.5 hours of it.
I fulfilled 1.0 hours, hammering away at the skeleton of an original piece. I went to Walgreens for a few items. I pointed the car homeward. It took me directly to B&N. There in the parking lot, I got out, slammed the door and addressed the car.
“Now look what you’ve done,” I said.
A guy I knew from the days of our sons playing little league together was just getting out of his car with his lover. He dumped his wife ages ago. He’s been so happy since, in fact he was laughing now as he locked his car and took her arm.
They didn’t hear me dressing down my car. Good. They’d think I was mad. But lovers, even those who have been such for years, don’t hear other people.
I marched into the store. I breathed deeply and that wonderful calm came over me. I had no schedule, no plans, no particular wants yet a B&N gift card was in my purse, zipped into its own compartment, against the time of need.
I browsed the New Paperbacks. I browsed the New in Soft Cover. The Chick Lit. The Bargain Shelves. The 3 for 2. Then I headed for Fiction and Literature (an odd category – I guess there’d be quite a tussle if the store had to separate those two.)
I couldn’t think of any title I wanted ’til my eye fell on something by MacSomeone titled Falling on something… I’d read a recommendation on someone’s blog about this book and these were my key words…”Mac” and “Falling” and there it was. I grabbed it. I didn’t even read the back or inside page. No. I did however note that it had an “Oprah circle” on it. Oh Lord save me. Should I put it back? Nah, I’ll pretend I found it before she did. Besides, so-and-so’s blog said it was the best thing she’d ever read. And I’d never heard of it. Sometimes, those are the best books, the ones you never heard of, even if all the 4 o’clock TV watchers in the world knew about it already, from the big “O” herself.
I carried it with me to the cafe and ordered a plain coffee.
“The book, too?” the girl asked.
“Yes,” I said having only at that moment really decided to get it. I slid it across the counter.
I chose a table, put my stuff down, went to the magazines, chose four to look at and returned to sit and read. Magazines give me ideas. Books give me escape. (The good kind of escape, after all, I have nothing to escape from really.)
Lovely. Excellent coffee. Beautiful art magazines ($14.95 each – gag.) And one about dogs. Dogs get me. I mean, they win my heart.
My phone rang. What? It was in my pocket. It was HM. He was on his way home. We’d watch Boston Legal together.
I was in the car and buzzing home in no time, laughing. Only B&N could make me forget an hour with James Spader and W Shatner! We plunked down on the couch, catching up on his rehearsal session and what I had been reading.
The show wasn’t on. It was some popular pap filler, a hangover from the time of the writers’ strike.
The next morning (now)…
My new book is still in the car. I’d forgotten it in my haste to get in the door. I’ll see it in a few minutes, as I pack up and head for work. Which I don’t mind doing, not at all.
I’ll listen to Ulysses (on 40 CDs!) and the new book will ride next to me on the passenger seat.
I have, however, grounded myself from B&N for purchasing it.