With fronds like these, who needs anemones?

I went to Half Price Books this morning. On Wednesdays the boys are in daycare and I am meant to be working on the house. Today, however, I needed to go buy the sequel to The Sparrow so I had it to take on vacation. Not only did I find the sequel, but I bought a copy of The Sparrow for two bucks. I also scored The Rule of Four; I’ve heard a lot about this and for three dollars, I was willing to take a flyer on it. My little brother liked it well enough, and he’s one of the smartest people I know, so…it’ll probably go on vacation with me. Hmmm, what else, what else? I bought Jonathan Harr’s A Civil Action. Why? Other than the fact that it was 2 bucks and I vaguely remember someone saying it was good, no good reason. To add to my shark lit collection, I picked up Richard Fernicola’s Twelve Days of Terror; I think it came out the same summer as Close to Shore, it tells the same story, so I thought it should be in the collection. I got an Anne Roiphe called Married: A Fine Predicament and I really don’t know why because her books pretty much bore me. But I am navel-gazing a lot lately (kinda hard to miss, sticking out like that and all), especially about the state of my marriage and the impending baby, so maybe I thought it could offer some insight. In the travel section I found Off the Rails in Phnom Penh: Into the Dark Heart of Guns, Girls, and Ganja. The author, Amit Gilboa, is the older brother of the husband (whom I like very much) of an old and dear friend, and I’ve met Amit, so what the heck, I’ll read it. Maybe I’ll even ask him to sign it, if I like it : )
Lastly (for me) I got a food book I’ve been keeping an eye out for, American Pie: Slices of life (and pie) from America’s back roads by Pascale Le Draoulec. Pie is one of my favorite foods, and no, it pretty much doesn’t matter what flavor. I don’t know if I have ever met a piece of homemade pie that I did not like. Pie for me is sorta like that old aphorism about pizza and sex: When it’s good, it’s very very good, and even when it’s bad, it’s still ok.

I did discover at the bookstore that I picked up many books and said, “Ooooh, that looks interesting,” only to realize that I already own it. So maybe I should just go shopping in my own library next time?

I picked up some clearance books for my boys: Richard Scarry’s Mother Goose, the first in the Magic Treehouse series, which I think Si will be ready for within the year; an anthology volume of Frog and Toad, and another Arnold Lobel, Owl at Home. I kid myself that it’s the beginning of my Christmas shopping, but I’ll probably cave way before December.

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Snippets:

None of Salon’s summer reads strike my fancy except possibly Philippa Stockley’s A Factory of Cunning.

This book, Hunger’s Brides, looks interesting. And heavy. (Speaking of heavy, I once tried to read Vikram Seth’s A Suitable Boy but lugging it around proved too much for me.)

The Atlantic is moving. No, not the ocean, the magazine. And I am with Jessa Crispin of Bookslut on this one: if they lose William Langewiesche (along with reportedly 90% of the rest of the staff), they are losing me.

My soapbox (ahem):
Pat Robertson is an idiot. Even if he backtracked and apologized. He’s still a huge moron. Our fundamentalists can be just as dangerous in their way as the Islamic extremists. And just because they *think* God is on their side does not make it true.

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There’s an article in this week’s Newsweek about making children’s books “more interactive.” Hello? Am I missing something? Books are fairly interactive already, I think. But what do I know? I just have to listen to endless re-tellings of stories I’ve read to the boys; all about the new characters the boys have created to go into the stories (Bob the Builder now has a trash truck named Stinky); all the new stories they’ve made up to go with their favorite characters (Pooh is a big favorite here); and never-ending requests to define or explain words and terms they encounter in their books. As far as I am concerned, a normal book is exponentially more interactive than even the most “interactive” video or TV show. Or even a book with a sound chip or accompanying DVD. Although I do admit to buying those books that come with the story on tape; my guys really enjoy hearing another person read to them occasionally and it takes a bit of pressure off me. There are many activities I refuse occasionally to do without a single qualm (how many games of Monopoly Junior can *you* play?), but Si and Jude know they can almost always guilt me into reading to them, no matter how busy or engrossed I am in something else.


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RockStar INXS update. Dan will get home from band practice and discover that his wife is a moron: I could not get the VCR channel to change to CBS, so I think I recorded the ballroom dancing show on Fox instead. Oops. How a computer engineer and a librarian cannot figure out how to tape one program a week, I do not know and am sad and embarrassed to admit. I probably should’ve just asked Simon to set it up. Dan will have to say, “I’m sorry, you’re just not right for my family.” It’s not as catchy as “You’re fired!” but it seems to work for INXS.

Now having said that, Jordis sucked big time last night and still managed to avoid the bottom three. She’s still charmed. JD was the only one I voted for; he’s a jerk but he’d be a great INXS frontman. He’s also the only one who even approaches any sort of sex appeal. Ty BORED me, as usual, and I love that eventually, they finally admitted that he “cowrote” Deanna’s song. Marty did a good impression of Tim Burton meets Kurt Cobain, with a dash of David Bowie thrown in. The size of the man’s mouth and teeth continue to astound me. Suzie’s cute and all but she’s not going to make the cut. And thank heavens Swiss Miss is gone, back to her geriatric nursing home, one presumes. Thank God. I couldn’t watch her saggy boobs and wrinkled brow one more week.