Reading

God, I'm showing my age.

Brigitte and I were talking last night about the entertainment we had as kids, and I was able to up even her pathetic story! "All we had was this old radio, and we'd cuddle around it and listen." This conversation, by the way, was inspired by something I read about an incredibly bad idea, on par with smell-o-vision: some suit came up with the concept of an "interactive" way to read. You read this e-book thingy, but when you come to certain passages, like "The footsteps became louder and louder" audio footsteps  appear on your earbuds. When it says "The wind sighed through the trees . . . " uh, okay, you get the point.

I mean, what's the bloody point? The whole point of great literature is that through the writer, your IMAGINATION is forced to work. Obviously, a great writer is going to make your imagining a whole lot more enjoyable than a lousy writer. Otherwise, why bother having a writer? (Side note: I cleaned up our library yesterday and had dug out a book about the making of the atomic bomb. I wanted HER to get into it too, so I started reading aloud in what I thought was a deep, sonorous voice. She started laughing. "Why are you laughing?" say I. "You sound like that guy on all those animal shows."

I was deeply offended. That guy. THAT GUY happens to be Sir David Attenborough Guy. But I digress!!)

Anyway, I pointed out to Brigitte that when I was growing up, we didn't even have a radio. We had a "phonograph" upon which my parents would play Sinatra or musicals (they were very popular back then) or classical. That was it. That . . . and books. According to my mother, I was reading quite capably at three years old. I hardly think that's possible, but that's what she says. But that's all we had. That's all my parents had too.

(cue tiny violin on shoulder)

And we had to walk twelve miles to school . . . and had the same pair of shoes for ten years and thin gruel for breakfast lunch and dinner yada yada yada