Cock-a-doo-dee Conclusions

Today I received a video that has apparently been circulating on the internet for years. (I am almost always a late consumer due to my butterfly nature; I have difficulty staying settled on one given obsession). This video is of a woman in a bookstore losing her mind over their failure to carry the Misery series by Paul Sheldon

Funny that the series is called Misery because she does a fair impression of Kathy Bates author-obsessed character from the movie of the same title. I LOL’d [we can use that as a verb now, like Google, correct?] – I laughed an honest belly-shaking laugh. Not because her outrage was hilarious and unreasonable,  not even because she repeatedly used the word cock-a-doo-dee instead of profanity but because I have been exactly there, in that moment where there all I need to step back from the edge is this one title by this one author and if I don’t have it I will lose it. Just lose my mind starting with reason and volume control. Thankfully, I’ve never been captured on film.

As a bookwyrm, I understand this panicked rage. I had it the other day when I reached such a grim and despondent relationship with my reality that only the Madaddam Trilogy could resurrect me. I searched my shelves only to realize I had lent them – all three – to a dear friend. In that blistering moment I railed at myself for being such a damn fool and where the cock-a-doo-dee is my library card and oh forget it, I’ll just read this children’s version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. More than moving me back from the edge, I just sat there realizing I had never read the original and what a sad copy we cut for children when infantilizing literature. But I’ll leave that thought for another day…like maybe when I actually read the original version and can make a better, less moody, comparison.

I’m this way about conversation too in that I sometimes just need to talk about something other than TV and sports.  I was asked about the Superbowl outcome yesterday, as to whether I had favored the Eagles or the Patriots. I thought I was so damn clever in responding that there was room for both so long as you keep one on the protected list and make sure the other reads the constitution. Needless to say I was glared at as if I had just shit in the punchbowl so I don’t think many people at work will have much to say to me this week…

I am left with three conclusions.

  1. I am not clever.
  2. I should just buy books for my friends instead of loaning things out.
  3. I need to read the Misery series by Paul Sheldon.

Six days and counting until the next Drink Write Drink at the Red Lion Pub and then, at the very least, I’ll be surrounded by clever people. Until then, may your art keep you from the edge or may all your tantrums be private. Cheers.

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