A place for random thoughts, ideas, and fun!
|I belong to a book club. A WONDERFUL group of women, each of whom I enjoy VERY much. I happen to be the youngest in the group by AT LEAST 10 years (I can't imagine that Christy is more than 10 years older than I am . . . though she may be, with 3 married, adult children and several grandchildren). I don't, however, often enjoy the books we read. I stay with the group because of the women.
On Sunday evening, Bob went to an Oscars party at our local cinema. Because we never did get a digital antenna up and working, and a week or so before the Oscars, he started to PANIC that he wouldn't be able to watch them. I had suggested we go to the Oscars party a few years ago, and he said no. So then we talked about it when we ditched cable, and he waffled. By the time he reached his panic state, there were a few tickets left in the front rows. Hands twisting together, he asked if I would mind if he went. Knowing full well that I CANNOT sit in the front rows of a movie theater. I panic. Here's the story behind THAT: I have this memory . . . that may be an actual memory, or may be a dream from my childhood. But I was sitting in the multipurpose room in my elementary school, right in the front row, on the floor, watching a movie on a pull down screen (which we did on occasion - that's where I was introduced to Pippi Longstocking) ANYWAY! I'm definitely rambling here. So my memory is that after the movie ended, my head had been tipped back for so long, watching, that I had trouble tilting it back down again. I've actually been known to stand in the back of the theater to watch a movie, when the only option was front row. I ALWAYS get to a theater early, or I start to get panicky. So he knew better than to ask if I wanted to do THAT. When he actually purchased his ticket, he found out that there were some single seats, further back, so he chose one of those. It's a fancy event . . . he was disappointed that he doesn't have a tux, but got dressed up in a suit and tie.
When he got there, he discovered something that had not occurred to him - the audience was mostly women, and mostly quite a bit older than him. So he was wandering around, and saw 2 of my book group friends (yes, there's a connection here . . . I did not just randomly switch topics). One of the women who was supposed to join them had canceled, and they asked if he wanted to sit with them. So Bob sat in the middle of a big group of Red Hat Society ladies! Which ended up being wonderful, because otherwise he would have been sitting alone (well, alone in a packed theater).
So at some point, Betty asked "is Amy home reading the book?" And Alberta laughed and said "she's not going to read it." No, really . . . it was said endearingly. But when Bob came home and told me that . . . well, I hadn't started the book. That was Sunday night at bedtime.
So yesterday, I read the book! I had a dentist appointment at 10. Came home at 11. Sat down, and started reading. Skimmed over a few bits . . . kept looking at the clock . . . skimmed over some more (truly, there were parts that were very skimmable - we discussed that at book group, actually). I was chatting with Dr B in the afternoon, and they asked if I could talk on the phone sometime 6 PM or later. Yes, I said. I could do 6. But I had book group at 7, so would need to leave at 6:30ish.
So this is the true story of a young man in depression era Washington, who puts himself through college, and decides to try out for the rowing team. And the story of how this rowing team makes it to the 1936 Olympics in Germany. And there's some Nazi Germany pieces, which I skipped for the most part. But . . . picture this . . . the story is about rowing to win these races. And those parts are described in such a way that the reader feels as if they're in the boat. Pushing forward, racing for the win . . . racing, pushing . . . skimming . . . looking at the clock . . . eating dinner . . . pushing forward . . . racing . . . I finished the epilogue, closed the book, looked up. The clock said 6:00! *fistpump* YESSSSSSSSSSSS!
Gold Medal for Mumsy!