Friday, August 20, 2010

Another Day Another Blow Job (or My First True Love)

From 2002:

Dear Diary,
Another day... another blowjob...

Oops!!! Sorry, just having a Go Ask Alice kind of moment. I would like to sincerely thank Mrs. Braithwaite, my fifth grade librarian, for recommending the book that indelibly etched those words into my psyche, and marked my transition from the Children's to the Young Adult's section at the local library. I would also like to thank my mother for patiently explaining, in words a fifth grader could understand, what exactly a "blow job" was. Two things I will always remember: 1) My Mom always answered my questions about sex without becoming embarrassed or angry, and 2)A "blow job" sounded like the most disgusting thing ever invented by a human being, and I was NEVER going to participate in such a degrading activity (yeah, right!)

For some reason, I was thinking about that book on my way to work this morning. I was remembering the people in my life who encouraged my adoration of the written word. Mr. Siegel, my second grade teacher, always read to the class, and set aside class time for "independent reading." Mrs. Braithwaite, the above mentioned elementary school librarian, invented a special award which she presented to me at my "moving up" ceremony. It was a maple plaque with a brass plate reading "Super Reader", and I was the first and only recipient. My mother, always my staunchest supporter, who trekked to the library with me every week and allowed me to choose whichever books piqued my interest. And last but not least, the children's librarian at the public library, whose name, for the moment, I cannot recall, who instituted the Summer Reading Program, in which teen volunteers listened to children describe books they read each week, and helped them pick out trinkets and stickers for each tome completed.

Anyway, I was reminiscing about my days spend curled up with a good book on my way to work this morning. I was one of those oddball children who would repose on a tree stump, engrossed in my newest discovery from Judy Blume, rather than playing hide and seek with the others. I used to beg my parents to allow me to stay up late, not to partake of the latest drivel offered by network television, but to finish the chapter I was working on in my Harriet the Spy novel. I am thoroughly convinced that the reason I wear glasses to this day is because of the reading by the light of a nightlight that I did as I child.

I hope that my children develop the love for the written word that I did. I refuse to force my interests upon them, but I will try to sway their opinion of reading by providing an environment that encourages them to lose themselves in the pages of a good book. I will purchase books for them that reflect their hobbies and interests, and make them available for their perusal. My cousin was reading by the time he was in preschool, not because his parents forced him to study phonics or learn his alphabet at six months, but rather because they constantly read him his favorite books, allowing him to follow along with the words as they verbalized them.

All I know is that as a child, books provided an alternate world for me. Books did not care about my weight. Books did not call me four eyes. Books did not care if I was afraid to catch a ball. Books were my first love, and it has developed into a life long affair.

4 comments:

Francis Holland said...

I have had the same experience. I liked books more than I liked to go out and play, maybe because there was no one in a book to criticize and laugh at me for being lousy at organized team sports, catching balls, etc.

Once I decided to make a determined effort to learn to enjoy sports when the school opened for a gym evening. I went immediately to a jump rope (probabaly because it didn't seem like a team sport) and no sooner had I jumped the first time than my foot got caught on the rope and I fell on my face and broke out one of my top middle teeth.

These days that could easily be fixed, but back then it ultimately just got removed, leaving one central tooth in my upper smile rather than two.

I traveled a lot in books as a kid, following the underground railroad from slavery to freedom, after I had read every Daniel Boone and Davy Crocket book ever written. I also read the Hardy Boys and their girls' counterpart (whose name I can't remember).

By the time I was nine, I was reading the local newspaper daily and by the time I was twelve I was hunting around the stores for the Boston Globe and the Washington Post. (This was before the Boston Globe turned into a cartoon magazine for the barely literate.)

As I spent my days reading, I told myself that there would be some recompense that I would receive in exchange for having passed my childhood within the four corners of the page, while I heard kids outside playing hide and seek.

Eventually, I was reading instead of going to dances and reading instead of feeling up girls. In retrospect, I really needed some help finding a social space for myself rather than hiding in books. But since so many of my friends from back then have gone to jails and prisons,my bookishness may really have got me something that many others missed: my liberty from imprisonment.

I can read in English, Spanish, Portuguese, French and I can understand what's going on in an Italian newspaper.

I even taught myself some Polish during a week in Poland.

Joanna said...

I find only ONE problem with my reading habit, Francis. A few months ago, I signed up for Shelfari, and saw a group for people whose goal it is to read 100 books for the year. Of course, as obsessive as I am, I had to sign up. So, I start to feel bad if it takes me more than 2 days to read a book, since my personal goal is to read 10 books (or more) every month. I was the same way with the summer reading club at the library as a child. I wanted MY paper to be filled with more stickers than anyone elses, and I wanted the largest collection of trinkets, which you received for a certain number of books read. I used to borrow a huge stack of books each visit, and when I met a girl who borrowed more books than me, it kind of made me angry and jealous!

Reggie said...

Joanna I absolutely love to read. There are hundreds of books in my house 8 or 9 bookcases. I have 5 leaning bookcases in my living room and I have read just about every book that I own. I love to read. I've been reading constantly for years. If I'm not watching television or playing on my laptop and I'm at home, I'm probably reading. I keep a book in my car and I'll take one with me on vacation and anywhere I'm going. Let me say it one more time, I love to read. I used to take my children to Barnes and Noble at least once a month to pick a book out for themselves. If I go into their rooms, I'll see dozens of books that I've bought for them over the years.

I know that people love their Kindles and electronic devices, but I've gotta feel a book in my hands.

One more time, I absolutely love to read!!!

Joanna said...

I bought a Kindle, Reggie.... big mistake... it is SO NOT THE SAME as reading a book in its intended form. You are lucky you have room to keep all of your books... I have three bookcases full of books I have not read yet, and the area above my kitchen cabinets have books I already read. In recent years though, I have only been able to hold on to my non fiction books, because I do not have room to keep the already read novels. I am still running out of room... I have a 3 foot high pile sitting on my kitchen floor!