Unfortunately...

 

For me, it's always been about the words.  This week's adventure has been a delight, filled with the world around us bursting into fall colors, meeting unforgettable people and yesterday seeing a wonderful play at The Purple Rose theatre.  But for me, the frosting on the cake took place in a small bookstore along a side street.

We had some time to kill between lunch and the play.  As we wandered down the leaf-strewn walk we came upon a wooden A-frame ladder.  It was positioned such that anyone using the sidewalk couldn't help notice.  On the top of the ladder was a metal sculptured chicken.  The chicken was not attached to the ladder but was affixed to a metal coil base.  A small sign read, Spring Chicken.

Halfway down the ladder was another sign that read, Bookstore, with an arrow pointing down the alley.  I couldn't help myself, it was like I was wearing magnetic clothes, and the force field of the books was over powering me.  I had no choice.  I had to go in.

Keep in mind, under normal circumstances my mind would have flashed an overhead projector image of me - wandering off, leaving Claudia standing on the sidewalk.  I would have seen that image, stopped, turned around and explained that I'd be right back.  But like I said, the forceful draw of the bookstore was too great.

Once inside I was enveloped in a classical violin piece that was completely mesmerizing.  The music seemed to blend smoothly with the walls, the carpet and rows upon rows of books.

As I turned one corner I saw Claudia.  She had apparently come in through the front door; obviously I was distracted by the chicken, or I too would have simply walked in off the sidewalk.

We both looked around at various books, enjoying the perky music and the fact that, for the time being anyway, there was no place we had to be, and nothing we had to do.  We just immersed ourselves in the moment.

We found two chairs and camped out for a short time.  Claudia was checking out a hardcover book, and I was enjoying a paperback entitled, Eats, Shoots and Leaves.  The cover showed a picture of a panda bear, walking away holding a gun.
The book was all about punctuation.

Just as we were about to leave, I noticed a book called, Growing Up.  There was a red band above the title and imprinted within the band it said, National Best Seller.  I knew we were leaving but I had to take a moment just to read the first sentence.  I wanted to see what comprised a national best seller.  I wanted to see if that first sentence would grab me, like a well-constructed sentence should.  I picked it up from the shelf and flipped to chapter 1.

I was not disappointed.  The imagery is still with me today.  It was truly a great first sentence.  I just wish I would have written it down.

zc