before the deluge

December 10, 2003


Nobody was chatting about the weather today at the Bakery Deli Cafe. Actually the old guys had already left except for the Leader of the Pack (the ringleader of this gang of antique antiquers who drives a Harley). The owner and the Leader of the Pack were looking at truck brochures. Last time I was there everybody was talking about the weather. Of course that was Friday when that was all everybody talked about anywhere and everywhere. I kept on belivieving it wasn't going to be that bad right up until I was shoveling 20 inches of snow. So we're supposed to have major rain and flooding tomorrow but nobody's talking weather.

Last week there was a miracle at the Bakery Deli Cafe. I was sitting at my table eating an onion bagel, drinking coffee, and eavesdropping on the whole gang of old guys talking about stuff they found at flea markets and restoring antique clocks and such. They got up to leave and Mrs. Bakery Deli Cafe asked "Does that cane belong to one of you guys?" The cane was hung on the windowsill. It didn't belong to any of the antique antiquers and it didn't belong to me so one of the old guys exclaimed "It's a miracle!" Everybody speculated about whether it was the coffee or the food that allowed the person to leave their cane behind. We all pretty much agreed it must be the coffee. I pictured the walls of the Bakery Deli Cafe decorated with canes and crutches like at Lourdes (which I haven't been to) or Chimayo (which I've been to). Alas, the cane was not there today. You must have to keep up a steady intake of the coffee.

None of this explains why two days after the storm the crazy lady is out there sweeping the slush in the street. Actually, I think she's sweeping nothing. Just sweeping. She tried to talk to me about the weather but I just kept staring at the pavement as I walked to my car. I drove away without making eye contact. She didn't pursue me with the broom this time.

I think I just saw a raindrop. Maybe it was a snowflake. Somehow drenching rain is just not the thing to bring on the Xmas spirit. I did attempt shopping today at the Andover Bookstore, but since I already have the nieces' presents and I don't know for whom I'm supposed to buy yet in the Secret Santa lottery because we didn't do the lottery on Thanksgiving I was a little unfocused. On a conference call last night with Beach Boy and Kevin we decided to have La Madre draw the numbers (birth order) for each of us and tell us privately who we got. I pointed out that we already missed the deadline for mailing Xmas presents to Iraq so Kevin says we'll just have to send BiB email with pictures of the presents he would have gotten.

While we were chatting about snow accumulation amounts, battleships, tax accounting, and InfiniBand (no wait, I think I got through a conversation without mentioning InfiniBand) Andrea asked to speak to Beach Boy about a computer problem. She was having trouble formatting her report on great composers in Word. We all deferred to Kevin since we're not networked tightly enough to see what's on her screen. Beach Boy started listing composers: Beethoven, Mozart, Bach... I chimed in with "Bartok". "Who?" they asked, and went back to talking about Word. Anyway, I told Andrea if she needed help with any homework involving used books just call me. Come to think of it, there are a couple of used book stores on Bartok Bela ut amidst all the computer stores...

That thing about emailing pictures of the presents BiB would've gotten got me thinking about how the Internet has not lived up to the hype of the last 10 years. A lot of life still involves physical objects moving around in physical space. Or even physical people moving around in physical space. Watching a web cam pointed at Bartok Bela ut is not the same as walking down it. Just like pictures of the Xmas presents BiB would've gotten are not the same as opening the packages on Xmas morning. But the Internet sure has made it easier to get used books... real physical dusty ones.

Today's Reading
Two Roads to Dodge City by Adam and Nigel Nicolson, Chasing the Sea by Tom Bissell

This Year's Reading
2003 Book List


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Copyright © 2003, Janet I. Egan