A 556 Year Old Valentine to Johannes Gutenberg

30 Mar

I’ve read in my car while waiting for high-schoolers to stop shmoozing and dawdling.

I’ve read in my bed, though it does get exhausting shifting from side to side as your elbow gets tired.

I’ve read in a restaurant with a sugar-pourer holding the page open while I ate.

I’ve read a book about the Crusades while my aunt and the rest of her bowling league sent pins flying.

I’ve read on the subway trying to get a head start on the ten-book limit the Chicago Central Library imposes if you’re not an adult.

I’ve read quite comfortably while a blizzard tried to crash through windows of my one-room apartment.

I’ve read Deliverance with shallow breath while I kept checking why my future wife wasn’t home, yet (not easy in that anxiety- filled era before cell-phones.  Eventual explanation: shmoozing and dawdling.)

I’ve read under a tree with my head resting on the home of my soon-to-be-born child.

I’ve read in a hammock …briefly.

I’ve read on gloomy, rainy day when I was glad to be in the middle of Shogun or Watership Down or The Winds of War.

I’ve read in a room full of strangers who were reading also.  Miles and centuries apart – but together.

I’ve read out-loud in a room packed with Jewish celebrants, shouting out the words of a Pharaoh long gone but still affecting the present.

I’ve read alone with tears in my eyes.

I’ve read by the light of the moon.

I wish I could read your face as you read this.

Which is a long way to say – Thanks Johannes.  You done good.

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