7.14 The Bookstore
The first thing I noticed when I walked into the bookstore was the smell. I couldn’t remember the last time I was in a bookstore that wasn’t a Chapters or Indigo. The last few visits to those stores were bathroom breaks or to get a coffee.
The smell brought me back to remembering how much I used to enjoy walking around bookstores and seeing what popped out at me. I have no nostalgia for the printed book, I think that ship has sailed. I used to have tremendous pride in my book collection, but after moving them several times and ending up living in a place that has limited space, I whittled my books down by half.
When I’ve tried to do this before, I’d pick up a book, read the back and return it to the shelf with fond memories. Sure, most of them I’d never thought of since finishing them, but there is a sense memory with books. Some come into your life at the right time, serve their purpose and are forgotten. Maybe not forgotten, but somewhat integrated into your psyche, and become a part of who you are as a person.
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7.13 Austin, Texas
When I stepped off the airplane, the first thing I noticed was the band playing. Austin is, after all, the live music capital of the world.
As the music faded and the closer I got to the exit of the airport, another band waited for us at the end of the escalator that led towards the front doors. At the baggage claim, four men in dark suits held up signs with names written on them. A fifth man held an iPad who, unlike his comrades, seemed to have embraced the advantages technological advancement provided to his job. I stood around the baggage claim, but all I had was a carry-on hanging from my shoulder. I was scoping out the five men with signs as they collected their passengers one-by-one. The last man, shifting from one foot to the other, anxiously checked his phone. I approached him, looked at his sign and said, “You’re looking for Wilson?” He nodded, offered to take my bag.
Inside the car, Nick the Driver blasted the air conditioning. He asked me about what brought me to Austin. With little sleep the previous night, combined with having to wake up early, I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. However, in my current situation, a certain amount of small talk was necessary.
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7.11 Springboarded
A few weeks ago, I was sitting outside on a bar patio with a friend in the middle of the afternoon. The patio was right on the sidewalk and we faced out, enjoying the sun and people watching. About a block away, I spotted two women approaching and said to my friend, “Don’t look now, but an ex of mine is coming this way.” We didn’t exactly make eye contact, but she must have seen me. She did that thing where she stopped her friend, pretended they were going the wrong way, turned and headed back away from us. It’s been well documented that I seem to have this effect on women - a repelling effect. Especially when it comes to ex’s. Now, this is a situation that many people have been in, running into an ex, but I would like to use this experience as an opportunity to bring up a few points.
I’m friends with almost no ex’s. Does this reflect badly on me? Probably. Most likely. Yes, when a relationship ends, there is heartbreak and sadness, but retaining some sense of a friendship always seemed futile to me. I’m not knocking those that do salvage a friendship, it’s just not for me. Do I really need to put the effort into this? Hmmm, well, last year I ran into an ex at the bar Three Speed (a place where nothing good ever happens), she grabbed the guy she was with and ran out of the place.
This kind of incident calls for some self-reflection.
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7.9 The Ship of Theseus
A few weeks ago, I was trying to post a blog, but it wouldn't appear on my website. It's one of those situations that took way too long to sort out and in the end was something stupid. Somehow, the year of the posting got changed to the year 2023. So, the post wasn't appearing because it was scheduled for seven years from now. This stuck in my brain for some reason, this notion of reading posts seven years from now. How would things change in seven years? What would I be like? Just how ridiculous would it be? I mean, I sometimes dislike what I've written last week, so seven years is an entirely different situation.
According to the website Live Science: "Every seven years we become essentially new people, because in that time, every cell in your body has been replaced by a new cell." It's the Theseus' Paradox, which ponders on whether an object that has had all of its components replaced remains fundamentally the same object.
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