Time With an Old Friend

My daughter knows I am a huge Stephen King fan and she graciously lent me his book, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft.  I finished reading it yesterday.  It is a remarkable book, part memoir and part instruction book.  As with most of his writing he approached a subject he clearly loves with common sense and affection.  He revealed a lot more of his early life with a detachment that didn’t ring true.  He had a tough childhood with a single Mom and at least one very disturbed babysitter.  I found the description of his near death after being run down while out walking especially heart breaking.  He has a remarkable ability to put the reader right by his side as he went through this.   

I enjoyed the sections of the book where he writes about his wife, Tabitha.  It’s obvious that she had a more than significant role in his success and that he still loves her desperately.  I’ve read all of his books and it was incredibly interesting to hear how many of these old friends (how I think of books) came to be.  More than anything else the book convinced me that he and I could be friends, that we share a lot in common.  I could see us hanging around for an afternoon and just shooting the breeze, fellow New Englanders that share some mutual appetites. 

I know that will never happen.  I also know that I could never approach his dedication or excellence in writing. After reading this book I know that I will always be a low A level ballplayer while he is destined for a special niche in the Hall of the Fame as one of the all-time greats.  I enjoyed the time we spent together this week.  Hanging with the father of so many of my “friends” was a real treat.  Yet another debt I owe to my own daughter.

In my own mundane world I returned home last night expecting the tree decorating to be nearing completion but I could see from a distance as I approached the house that my wife hadn’t even finished the light re-arranging yet.  Apparently she was distracted during the day by giftwrapping the front door (I didn’t ask – but it does look kind of neat.). She even hinted that my assistance decorating the tree would be welcome.

This is a huge step for her as she had reserved that role exclusively for herself since the kids left the house.  I think it has something to do with the absence of any sense of style in my tool box.  I was humbled by this new confidence but opined that I would be more tractable with a Zorbas pizza under my belt.  The pizza was destroyed and we set to work on the tree which didn’t come out too bad.  I know my wife will spend the rest of the weekend subtly moving certain ornaments but it was kind of fun.  Buddy contributed by hunting.   He has this weird habit of going on alert and stalking invisible quarry under the many plants in the house. All ornaments had to be above “tail level” to ensure their survival.

Our Giftwrapped Front Door

Christmas Tree Nearing Completion - Just Needs Tinsel and Wifely Adjustments