Doctor Sleep

Started new book by Stephen King......oh, baby!

A Bad Case of the Festschrifts

Did I just hear you say festschrift? If so, STEP AWAY from that book. This is your final warning! For all you regular folk, I am sure I need not remind you the meaning of this malevolent word. To eliminate confusion, a festschrift, is quite simply a book written as tribute to a respected person.

Now why would I be using such potty language as festschrift here on such a respectable venue? I'll tell why. I am here to cry out and save your precious souls from engaging in what clearly must be the work of the devil himself. Let me digress and tell you how this all came about.

I had found the words of the Lord through his modern day prophet or as he is humbly known- Chief Rabbi of the UK R. Jonathan Sacks. I might add that his youtube videos are quite profound and deeply rewarding- so seek and ye shall find the Lords wisdom in his work. I bought R. Sack's Covenant and Conversation which gives Torah for the weekly portion. Three thumbs up. Then I chanced upon a book called Radical Responsibility which had his picture on the cover so I swiped it up only later to realize the folly of my simple ways.

When I began the introduction, I was hexed by the 8-fold mentioning of that accursed word 'festschrift'. Being the responsible reader that I am I looked up the word and realized that R. Sacks did not write this but some other brainiacs from the academia world decided to get their highfalutin philosophical mumbo jumbo printed on the back of R. Sacks. Say it with me kids:WASTE- OF- TIME. There was one good article that unfolded in R. Sacksien style of sensitive reading of the texts to uncover deep truths and meaning (Regarding the story of Achan in the book of Joshua relating to collective responsibility but that's for another time).

Just after completing the book, my father-in-law gave me a book to read. Now I'm-a-gonna give you but one guess which word was in the very first sentence of that book and if you say 'festschrift' I'm-a-gonna knock you between your schrifty eyes but you would be right.

But have I learned my lesson? NO! I read the whole damn thing cramping the whole way. Eliminate me now. There were a few worthy articles but as a whole it should've been relegated to the world of doctoral dissertations and academic research. I need stuff that so inspires me that I would actually want to share it with my wife, my kids, and the one who really has got my backside- my proctologist.

So as per my doctors orders, if you don't want a pain in the ass, flush that festschrift right outta your system.

Talk to Me...

Have inanimate objects ever talked to you? Come now, admit it, you are amongst friends, you know. Did you ever emphatically deny that you are delusional, trusting that your sensory input was OBVIOUSLY accurate? Well, send in the boys with those special coats that you don't find in any Far Rockaway gemach because THERE BE TALKIN'.

Now don't y'all get goofy on me but as of late, I feel like the books I read speak to me. Of course, I mean that metaphorically or else I can kiss custody of my kids goodbye. Hmmm, don't tempt me. And let's face it, talking books are for the visually impaired anyway or like Trix, they are for kids.

I find this experience akin to what people feel when they come across something in the weekly Bible section and find it directly relevant to their current life situation, as if God put it there just for them (do I smell egocentrism?). The words speak to them, provide insight, perhaps perspective, or maybe just express what they were feeling but couldn't articulate.

I like to glean pearls from all the different authors and books I read. If I go through a book with less than two light-bulbs floating over my head, I'm disappointed. I crave these ephemeral incandescents for they are the bulbs that shine light upon my life. Today I was reading from Skeleton Crew and found Stephen King whispering and sometimes screaming at me. (Is that ambulance sirens in the background?) So here is what caught me with my pants down, which isn't always a bad thing but can be quite revealing:

"I got scared and I let her get away. Was it as simple as that? Dear God help me. I think it was. I'd like to have it a different way, but perhaps it's best not to lie to yourself about such things as cowardice. And Shame...And if those things were true- if [she n me] had somehow belonged...Did you laugh? Did you scream? Did you shoot yourself for a yellow dog?"

Well I don't know about that ole yellow dog but I nearly wet my self because as I write these words I really hear voices. In fact they are singing, "Don't know what you got til it's gone." Yes, Cinderella's song is playing on the radio right now.
Just strike me down now if the next song is Nights in White Satin- "Letters I've written, never meaning to send..."

For all those who appreciated that frightening glimpse inside my head remember: "The exhausted mind is obsession's easiest prey."-SK Lisey's Story.

There is a little pill for OCD...I think I hear it calling my name...
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