No Books on A Plane

dahlias dahlias
dahlias dahlias
I might be disappointed in the tomatoes but at least the dahlias look great.

Yesterday I wanted to pay a bill using funds from a savings account. Since I couldn’t write a check, I took a wad of cash and then drove to the credit union to pay the bill.

They asked me for ID.

I understand the need for security in banking matters, but I can’t imagine why I’d need to show ID to pay a bill with cash. Is there a lot of this going on fraudulently? And if so, is anyone complaining?

Another thing that happened yesterday is Kim called. She couldn’t believe she couldn’t take a book on a plane. Magazines are apparently okay. “I’m fine with no liquids. I’m fine with no knitting needles. But I can’t take a book?” She couldn’t bear the thought of killing time flipping through a soul-depleting issue of Vogue or US Weekly or whatever.

After we’d visited a bit, I suggested taking a New Yorker. What a great magazine that I never read anymore because, dammit, it comes every week and I want to read more books. She agreed this was a excellent idea and was ready to go off to a good newsstand to see what other treasures she could find.

I just bought a pile of books for my summer trip. I already have a huge stack of books on the shelf that have been passed on to me and they are mostly big heavy book club type books. It’s August. I don’t feel like reading The Kite Runner or The Known World right now. I got books with magic, witches and time travel.

I still had one more book in my YA pile from the library and I dutifully picked it up. It’s called An Acquaintance with Darkness and sounded like it might be spooky. “Abraham Lincoln,” I said, after I read the first page. “Who cares?” (Something with a girl in the civil war.) I set it down and picked up one of the new ones. “I want to read about time travel.”

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