my old friend

My old friend Ignatius has found me once again. I stepped into this biblioteque – or for you simple minded folks out there – the LIBARRY. In the mountains, these book exchanges are housed in old timey school houses.

And on the shelf was sitting A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole, there for the taking.

In my experience, some “friends” do not return books that I lend them. Then, if I’m looking to read a tome from my private collection, that has been lent out to an irresponsible and tardy individual, an alternative solution must be found. A logical answer is to get yerself yer very own library card.

Librarians in their monocles, french twist up-dos, and long prairie skirts are reluctant to hand out these cards. Par exemple, I came to the almighty desk of the keeper of the books, and with my best manners asked “Oh, I beg your pardon, but may I please get a library card?” I was shoed off and the customer that already possessed a card was checked out first, despite my place in line. Then she sent me away to a dark corner to fill out the paper work.  After returning to the desk, it happened again. Another lucky that already was the owner of the prestigious library card was serviced before me. I was patient though. It was worth it. The book mistress at long last relinquished her stern grasp on lending priviliges. I got a golden ticket to the Gunnison County Public Library. I can’t blame libraries though. I  presume many people do not return their books. And they deserve late fees. I imagine the book people pool them for wild bowling parties with lots of nachos and pitchers of beer.

Back to the book at hand. This little nom yom is one of my favorite things I’ve evar read. The characters are so alive in wackiness. I just love Ignatius’ ideas and crusade for Moorish Dignity, and his preference for weenies. If you haven’t read- I highly highly suggest. But there isn’t anything quite like returning to one of your favorite books. It feels like you picked up right where you left off with your old friends.

Pssst. I also got to see my Pirate Weenie Vendor incarnate in New Orleans – which was a very special serendipitous discovery.

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