Without a Book
Monday, January 25th, 2010
Until yesterday, I could honestly say that I NEVER go anywhere without a book. Then Sunday, I flew a full four hours home from Nashville without cracking a book, though I couldn’t help myself from browsing the SkyMall catalogue tucked in seat pocket in front of me. Does that count?
I’d finished my last “real” book during the trip out on Thursday, and read a friend’s book, and my roommate’s magazines during my stay in Nashville. I just couldn’t bring myself to purchase an actual book for the ride home. You see, my loving spouse gave me a Kindle for Christmas, and I’d vowed not to purchase anything but ebooks for the foreseeable future. Between my sister’s library and my own, I wouldn’t have had a problem if sometime between Christmas and the start of this trip, I’d managed to choose a cover to protect my sacred Kindle. Ugh!
As someone who spends practically every otherwise free moment with my “nose in a book,” I was at a loss for how to occupy myself for the full duration of a four-hour flight home. A prolonged internal discussion of my options resulted in my decision to sleep. I indulged in an over-size beer at Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge before boarding the plane, and settled in between two tall, quiet-looking men seated near an exit to ensure ample leg room. Thankfully, I was “out” not too long after take-off. If I hadn’t woken up with an insurmountable need to pee when we hit turbulence, I may have slept until we reached Ontario.
Once we were again free to “move about the cabin,” I headed for the bathroom. Back in my seat, I couldn’t get back to sleep. I looked at the aforementioned SkyMall, and shifted so violently in my seat that I’m surprised that neither of my companions stirred from their naps.
I’ve never used my iPod on a plane – I’m always reading, remember? (And I don’t require music in the background to do so.) That changed on Sunday. I listened to the final two chapters of Barbara Kinslover’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, which was almost unbearable – not because of Barbara, but because I was so uncomfortable just listening to a book read aloud. I’m used to driving or running or…something…while I’m listening. Likewise with my music playlist.
I finally gave up. I turned my iPod off, pulled my earbuds out, and returned the tiny device to a pocket in my purse.
Thank Buddha, one of neighbors was alert by then. We exchanged itineraries, and talked about the snow-covered mountains below. Our plane was continuing on from Ontario to Sacramento, which was the starting point for his trek into the Northern California wilderness in search of somewhere he could “live off the land” fairly easily. He told me that he could see himself sitting on his porch at the end of a long day hunting and foraging, reading while his dinner cooked on the stove inside, or over an open fire.
