Yesterday I went to this place. If I were on the quest for a new religion, I would worship whomever was required so that I could be in this place always. Or at least when I come visit my mom.
Oh, it was wonderful. There were books. Nearly floor to ceiling, multiple floors. And of course I had to take this picture on the sly because everyone in NY is nutso with the “nopicturetakinghere” and whatnot. But look how pretty! And no books were harmed in the taking of this photo, I promise.
And while I was there, I took out a book called Into Thick Air, by author Jim Malusa, in which he “bikes to the bellybutton of six continents” and tells the tale with great cleverness, and a wry, not unbearshapedspherelike sense of humor. And I laughed, and turned pages as fast as my little eyes would take me, and at the end, he says this:
Everybody has a plan, something that may or may not happen–but that’s really not the point. It’s the plan that counts, the pleasure of possibility.
He rounds out the sentiment, saying “You might hope to sail alone to the palm islands in a boat of your own design. To please your spouse in a remarkably athletic way or marry the right person the next time around. Or to sell your house before the plumbing goes and more to a carefree condo at the clean edge of a golf course until God’s call.”
I am so glad I went on that virtual ride with Jim Malusa. He’s so right about the plan thing. You’ve got to have one, to look forward to that ribbon, that graduation, that bridge-jump, that whathaveyou. I plan to spend some time thinking about what this next year might bring. And about how off his rocker Jim Malusa is. Wonder if he’s coming back to South America any time soon. And I wonder if he likes libraries. I’ll bet he does.
Got a quote that’s turned your head lately? Let me know. Warning: if you quote the Mark Twain bowlines bit, I will block your ISP. I don’t know how to do that, so please don’t make me learn.