Thrashed With a Guidebook

Renoir - Woman Reading

I love to read. Any occasion calls for it. If a civil war should suddenly spring up, I would be found off to the side somewhere hiding under a wagon, my nose in a book. I long ago decided to that I was a conscientious objector to country wide brawls. I’ve taken my thumps in the past at the amateur level. As the oldest of six I had to step in on occasion and defend my beloved siblings.

Now that they are grown…well that’s another story. Fortunately they are not the type to yell “for Valhalla” and dive head first into a fray. Except for my youngest brother, but he’s on his own now. I don’t even attempt to break up fisty cuffs between grown men. And I use the term grown loosely when it comes to bar brawls.

It’s so unpleasant and usually uncalled for. I don’t need my honor defended, thank you very much. Those who won’t back off with the receipt of a scathing look…well…I leave the vicinity immediately. OK, I must confess, I did whack a rude fellow over the head with a guide book I was reading once. In my defense he pulled my hair 3 times. Pretending inability to speak English the first 2 times I asked him to stop pulling my hair, and calling me a bitch the 3rd time. A lady can only take so much before she results to the deployment of primal defense maneuvers. And I didn’t have a pair of gloves handy to slap him with.

So I read 2 books this week. My sister told me about them. Both by Jerome K. Jerome. Three Men in a Boat and 3 Men on a Bummel. They are both hilarious, laugh out load funny. Both stories are about 3 friends traveling together. Jerome has an insight to people that is timeless. He wrote these books in the late 1800s and they are still completely relevant today. The same sense of adventure mixed with peevishness and occasional desire to say “to hell with this” and be transported in the blink of an eye to ones home and bed are the experience of any traveler.

The let down of arriving at an attraction after much fussing and hardship and finding it less than attractive has happened to just about anyone who ventures farther than the end of their home street. The same with the sudden sense of bliss and all is right with the world at the end of a long day of successful adventuring. A good meal and a drink or 2 make all the difference in the world. If this happens under a roof, in a building with running water, even better. We are now approaching Nirvana.

10 responses

  1. Enjoy Nirvana! Bring me a t-shirt!

  2. “I don’t need my honor defended, thank you very much.” You and I are so alike sometimes it is scary!

    1. Hee Hee, I always love an excuse to say “great minds think alike.”

  3. well, books are educational, either from what you learn while reading or from when they are mashed up on somebody´s head. I´m sure the guy learnt the lesson at the time LOL

  4. Here’s a bit of fun for you – http://iwl.me/s/8bf4a8b3

    You plug in a few paragraphs and it analyses them and tells you who you write like. I got JD Salinger on a bit I wrote for the blog, and David Foster Wallace for the nanowrimo novel sample (sadly, he hanged himself – the meds stopped working… why can’t writers just be cheerful and happy???)

    1. I plugged in some of mine and got H.P. Lovecraft??!!?? How odd. People tell me I shouldn’t read his stuff because it’s scary. I did and didn’t find it scary at all. I thought at times HA! Try living in the French Quarter or in my brain on an off day, then we can talk about scary. Writing is a fascinating craft to do and to read others writing.

  5. What??? why was he pulling your hair???

    1. He kept jumping up out of his seat behind me using my seat and my hair as a catapulth to launch himself into the aisle. Yes this happened on a airplane. Before all the TSA hysteria. When he called me the name he also shoved his feet into the back of my seat so hard that I almost ended up in the lap of the person in front of me. That’s when I lost it and started yelling “I know you can speak English so I know you understand me. STOP PULLING MY HAIR and KICKING MY SEAT,” then the thrashing commenced. No one said a word. He disappeared somewhere in the back of the plane and I didn’t see him again.

  6. Amen! And I LOVE your title here! So well said–so true–to arrive and have running water is Nirvana–though sometimes the running water was missing in Haiti.
    Kathy

    1. Wish I could say I can’t even imagine that, but I can. Yuck, no water is the worst.

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