"Where your pleasure is, there is your treasure; where your treasure is,
there is your heart; where your heart is, there you is your happiness." -
feel like a Friday at all. It feels much like Saturday. Maybe it's because
I woke up late. Or because I've laid around all afternoon reading the
newspaper... and then my newest book. And that's something new for me. Oh,
the newspaper I read every day... but it's been a while since I've read a
book for pleasure.
I've always been a fan of reading. Reading opens so many doors. It expands
your horizons and teaches you new things. And until I was about junior high
age, I read a lot of books. But the older I got, the less interested I was
in reading stories and the more interesting I became in reading for knowledge.
It's been that way ever since.
A few weeks ago, I had spent the weekend at
Jessie's apartment with two
other friends. On Sunday morning, the others glanced through one or two sections
and tossed the paper aside. I think I ended up reading -- or at least looking
for something to read in -- every section of the paper. That's just the way
I am. Novels? Not usually. Newspapers? Can't live without them.
Anyway, I got my new book last night. I had to special order it from the
good folks at Barnes & Noble in
Jessie made a trip up there
for other business and picked it up for me. It's a bestseller from the 70s
"Report from Engine Co. 82." The author -- Dennis Smith
-- spent years in the South Bronx as part of the busiest engine company in
the department. He worked there through the turmoil of the late 60s and the
heavy fire loads of the time. They saw a lot of fire "back in the
I'd be finished with it already, but I'm trying to pace myself. Trying to
make it last. Like opening presents on Christmas morning, I don't want it
to be over quickly. But I can't help myself. When I get a moment where my
both my mind and body are doing nothing... I pick it up and start to read.
And it's not just because it's a book about firefighting. This guy can actually
write. He does a wonderful job of telling his tales.
Shame on me. I had forgotten what it feels like to read for pleasure. How
it feels to always wonder what is on the next page. To create the images
of the book in your head. To try to become part of the story. Yep, these
are feelings I once knew very well. How did I ever stray from them?
Last night, I
was over at Jessie's place to
pick up my new book. We sat around for a few hours talking and watching a
bit of TV. She fell asleep on the sofa and I couldn't resist the temptation
to start reading my book. I let her sleep and I read until about 3 a.m. I
remembered that I needed to print an ad out at work, so I stopped by the
office on my way home. I ended up finding something else that needed to be
done while I was there... and didn't leave until it was about 5:30.
The birds were chirping and the sky starting revealing hints of the lighter
blue shades that daytime brings. Folks were waking up to go to work. Many
were already on their way. I like -- no, I love -- that part of the day.
In one moment, everything is quiet and still. It seems like I'm the only
one awake in town. And in the next, I everything wakes up... the busy day
that it will become is just being born. Sure, some of the problems of yesterday
linger... but the day is brand new. Most everything lies ahead of you. I
love that feeling. (1749)