The Pros and Cons of My Kindle

I was squirreling away my pennies, saving to buy myself a Kindle when Loverman beat me to the punch and gave me one for Christmas. To say I’m enjoying it would be an understatement.  It’s sleek, sexy and best of all, it fits perfectly in my pocketbook.

I thought maybe I’d miss the physicality of books, but so far, I don’t.  I also thought I’d miss trolling the aisles of Barnes & Noble and Borders, but not yet.  I also don’t miss the small piles of books cluttering my side of the bed, and oh!... did I mention that Kindle books are a lot cheaper than hard/soft book copies?

The first book I wirelessly downloaded was The Thing Around Your Neck by Nigerian novelist, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.  I first learned of Adichie after checking out her TED address on the danger of a single story.  Chimamanda must have spent some amount of time in Philadelphia because a few of the stories are based in Philadelphia or a suburb of Philly.  Once I finished Adichie's most recent offering, I downloaded her first novel, Purple Hibiscus.  I finished it today and now I’m in mourning. I’ll miss the main character, Kambili, terribly.  I guess I’ll just have to move onto Adichie’s 2006 release, Half of a Yellow Sun. 

These books were so good that I often found myself reading late into the night and to be honest, as much as I’ve enjoyed reading books, I have discovered one huge drawback of my sweet, sexy Kindle---- once you finish the book, you don’t get the satisfaction of sharing your copy with a friend.

Longing for the Good Old Days!

Olivia caught me off guard the other night while we were sitting next to each other in my bed, me on my laptop, Olivia watching TV.  I was trolling through Facebook, not paying attention to what was happening on the TV when my girl asked me about a commercial that she’d just seen.  “Mom, what’s that stuff?” I looked up and asked, “What are you talking about?”  She went on the describe one of those annoying KY Jelly commercials that air all times of the day.  I feigned ignorance, and continued staring at my computer screen.  A few days later we were sitting on the couch and the same commercial came on and Miss Olivia pointed it out, reminding me that this was the commercial she was talking about the other night.   I didn’t want t lie, so I simply told her I wasn’t sure what KY Jelly was and I’d have to look it up. I promised to get back to her when I found out.

Back in the ‘70s when I was a kid, you never would’ve caught a sexual lubricant commercial on television before 10pm, or better yet, it probably would have never hit the airwaves at all.   I often find myself longing for those good old days, when it seemed easier to shield children from the overt sexualized, dysfunctional, coded messages flooding our airwaves.  I miss TV mothers like Carol Brady and Florence Evans.  Olivia regularly checks out TLC and feels bad that Jon & Kate Plus 8 divorced.

Loverman and I had a good laugh at the spot Olivia put me in over that damn commercial and he went on to tell me that when he was younger and asked his mom to explain things, she would often tell him to go and look it up.  Looking it up for Loverman would sometimes require him to go to the library, scour the card catalog and sometimes ask the librarian for assistance in understanding the Dewey Decimal System before he found the answer.  Oftentimes, Loverman said the thought of having to put forth such effort would diminish his need to know.  Now, when we tell Olivia to look it up, she grabs her netbook and googles the answer she’s looking for in less than 10 minutes.   Boy, have times changed!

Finally!

It was less than a year ago Yannick announced he wanted dreadlocks like his daddy and sister.  I gave him the same speech I gave Olivia years ago when she made the same pronouncement, “It’s a huge commitment, you’ll need lots of patience while it grows long enough to twist and once it’s ready to twist I don’t want to hear any complaints about how long it takes to groom-----o.k.?” Yannick readily agreed and stoically endured the daily chore of picking, brushing and combing what may be the kinkiest head of hair I’ve ever encountered.

Well, the little boy’s patience has finally paid off.  On Thursday night, while I was chatting on the phone, Yannick was sitting on my lap watching television and I mindlessly began twisting his hair.   At some point he realized what I was doing and in a conspiratorial tone whispered, “keep going.”  I had no intention of spending the rest of my evening twisting his entire head, but I had to admit the small patch I’d completed looked great.  When I finished with my phone call, I got up to put the phone back n the dock and Yannick dashed off to check out what I’d done in the mirror.  Olivia and Loverman both offered enthusiastic encouragement and I thought, “what the heck,” this was as good as time as any to get the job done.

Once finished, I was amazed at how wonderful he looked with his head full of little twists. They fit him perfectly. He grinned at himself in the mirror trying to catch a glimpse of his head at different angles.   We briefly discussed his new hair maintenance regime, including wearing a bandana to bed to minimize the accumulation of lint, getting up early enough for me to twist each lock and last but not least, keeping his friends hands out of his hair as much as possible. 

As expected, Yannick was up lickety split Friday morning, stopping first at the mirror to see how his hair faired through the night.  He got dressed, sat on the floor between my legs allowing me to tidy up his hair and as he went out the door on his way to school, I saw a handsome boy, completely satisfied and confident with his new look.