One Tree Woodwork

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Crumbs,Vonnegut and the magic hour

So I am in the process of reading a book my sister gave me for my birthday (Slaughter House 5  by Kurt Vonnegut) an iconic book I have long wanted to read but never have done so. It has been placed in my rotation of books that I keep by the bed, I read really slow in an on again off again sort of style. Why do I read several books at one time you may ask? Because as you might remember I am some one who exhibits A.D.D with a side of O.C.D with just a touch of T.C.B and my reading tends to move in the general direction my brain goes (in circles). A.D.D + O.C.D=FUCKED.UP.T. You may have noticed also that I have not written a respectable blog entry in several weeks and for that I apologize I have not found my off beat rhythm that usually only tends to show up for a limited time only. But when it does it seems as if the universe can make complete sense with one breath but then with the very next breath it brings uncertainty. Such a moment usually happens between the third and fourth drink of the night and it seems as if lately I have been skipping a few steps.

Back to the book I will not go into detail of this powerful book because I don’t have any business talking about such literary power that has been dissected to death by critics, but if I do decide to it will be held on another post and it will be after I finish. Again I am a very ,very slow reader. I know what your thinking get to the point. I ramble on. My sister left a bookmark inside the book she gave me that belonged to my brother that he had left behind in a book he was sure he would open again. Leaving behind a bread crumb no doubt that he was sure to find and reminisce on at later date, in a book he wasn’t finished with. To bring to mind a good vacation past  and a great bookstore he visited.

The bookmark was from the Elliot Bay Book Company in Seattle, Washington. On the back he wrote a note ” Great selection of books. Shitty selection of Ales”. I know what your thinking a bookstore that sold beer. Not only a bookstore that sold beer but one that had a SELECTION of beers. Now that’s a book store. Now this isn’t about the beer or lack of “Ales” nor is it about the book store.

This is about the crumbs we leave behind in our daily life that we intend to pick up on our way home. Some of us leave more crumbs than others by virtue of our fear of getting lost. My home for instance is full of crumbs and I hope that if one day I don’t wake up or if one day I don’t come home that someone will take the time to wade through the many crumbs I have strategically placed like tiny trojan horses. In locations that I fully intend on revisiting but am comforted by them being there just in case I’m not given the chance to.

Because a bookmark with some scribbles on the back is just that. Unless you’re a member of a search party looking for one of your own that has gone missing and then it’s something to be held on to,to be studied and deciphered. Maybe it was just a bookmark or maybe just maybe it was a crumb.

As for me it’s time to sign off because the magic hour between 3rd and the 4th has arrived and there’s many miles to go before I  sleep.

P.S

It has been brought to my attention (Tim,Crystal) that I have been phoning it in lately and your right my (3) readers deserve better. If the few of you out there want to see some real writing then visit the above links. If your happy with some senseless rambling of a carpenter than you have come to the right place. I’ll be right back.

Be careful what you pretend to be because you are what you pretend to be.
Kurt Vonnegut

I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can’t see from the center.
Kurt Vonnegut

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4 comments on “Crumbs,Vonnegut and the magic hour

  1. Crystal Jackson
    April 25, 2012

    I found that bookmark, that crumb, before I was ready for it. But like most of the other things in Mason’s house that are now in my house, I put it aside for later. In a safe place, next to my books. And after a time, that crumb became a small life preserver. A reminder of the person we lost. And on your birthday this year, it seemed like it needed to live with you.

    Much like you, I read multiple books at once. Mason did too. There were many, many of his books that had a book marker of some sort (usually a round paper clip) 1/3 or 1/2 or 3/4 of the way through. Unfinished books. Unfinished business.

    I’m glad that you share the occasional crumb here on your blog. Don’t stress about not posting too often. We’re all in it for the long haul. Crumb by crumb.

  2. Trailer Park Cyclist
    April 26, 2012

    I forgot to tell you guys that I lost a brother, also. His last words to me were outside a liquor store in St. Petersburg, FL. We never saw each other or talked. I don’t know why. I was coming out of the store, grinning foolishly about some witty comment I had made to the clerks and no doubt revising my comments for the next shift when I heard a familiar voice say, “There’s my brother, smiling in the sunshine.” It was my little brother who I was seriously neglecting in the wake of his divorce. But that was before I learned that the living need help and it is our job to do it. Later I ignored his pleas for pity while I pursued my self importance and he ducked under the veil behind way too much vodka.

    Sorry. You kids are of an age to be my own children but in my second childhood, as I track my way back on the journey of life I seem to be about 24, right now. Or an erudite twelve. If we could live our lives over again, knowing everything we know now, we would do all the same stuff. We already know what to do; our decisions are based on who we are, not what we know, I think. That is somehow the way it should be.

    Tohner, that post was damned fine (my Hemingway voice) and don’t sweat your various diagnoses. You are here doing the work and the only other carpenter I know who takes the time to write it down and that is a damned fine thing. You too, cryjack.

    tj

    • TOHNER JACKSON
      April 27, 2012

      I’m sorry that this is yet another thing we have in common. Thanks for the encouragement it means more than you know.
      Tohner-

  3. Crystal Jackson
    April 26, 2012

    TJC the TPC, I’m sorry that we have that sadness in common. Interesting concept – that we make our decisions based on who we are, not what we know. I need to think about that for a little while.

    For the record, I’m too old to be your kid unless you were an incredibly precocious middle schooler.

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This entry was posted on April 24, 2012 by in family, Inspiration and tagged , , .

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