Yesterday, my wife wrote a post about bookmarks and other devices used to keep your place in a book. I highly encourage you to read it so that you can see the full state of insanity that takes place anytime I’m not around.
Here’s the gist. My wife and I are both very avid readers. When we first met, before putting a book down, she would…it shames me to admit this…dog-ear the pages.
Let me repeat that in case you blacked out because of the horror of that paragraph. She would purposely mutilate a book multiple times just to make it more convenient for her.
Those creases are like scars. They never go away. They just sit there in the corner of that page for all of eternity advertising the fact that someone brutally attacked them in order to save a few seconds. It’s just sad. All of the other books on the shelf that are well taken care of (aka, my books) turn their eyes and look away in order to not embarrass their poor neighbor who has never known love.
Fortunately, I was able to break her of this horrific habit not too long after we were married. To me, books are like old friends. One of my favorite books of all time is Legend by David Gemmell. I’ve had my copy of the book since I was in junior high. It’s one of the original printings with the cover where the lead character, Druss, looks just like Sean Connery. I’ve read it about 45 times and lent it to about 10 friends. At some point, my son ripped a little bit of the cover off the spine. With all the wear and tear, it’s become a great friend. Would you repeatedly scar a good friend just to remember where a conversation left off? Of course not.
Now, it would appear that in my absence, my wife has resorted back to her evil ways. It might be about time to head home before she starts murdering people.