bookworms

i spent a long and lovely afternoon at barnes & noble. i was in pursuit of two things: a birthday gift for my dear dear friend D, and the perfect book to give as a gift to Susan. the first part was easy. i wanted to give her one of my very favorite novels and she already knows what it is and that makes it a simple success. after finding D's gift and showing alicia what she is going to get me for my birthday in 2 months (The Autobiography of Mark Twain, Volume 1) i turned to face the rest of the store and stood quietly stupified for several moments. i slowly began to shake my head and said, "this is not going to work." there was no way, i thought, to find the right gift. i wandered and wandered and wandered the store churning thoughts of beautiful old musty books that can only be found in places that are NOT barnes & noble. i wanted a cherishable considerably earlier printing of A Tale, but there was not time. i wanted the quintessential novel that captures my love of literature, but it does not exist in a single binding. i decided to do what i could to trigger memories of the beginning of my affection for reading by entering the children's book section. initially, nothing happened. just as i was about to walk out, having decided that this was a ridiculous idea, i thought of the little golden books. then i thought of my books on record. then i decided to keep trying to make some kind of connection to my own literary past that would translate to a meaningful gift. it sounds crazy and if someone else told me what i am about to say i would totally call bullshit on it, but this is what happened next: i was walking through the children's section and i thought, i remember Harry the Dirty Dog and i remember Frog and Toad...i LOVED those books! and as i thought of that i approached a display stand that had Harry on one side and Frog and Toad on the other. i kept looking around, trying to not let that be as weird as it was, and i encountered collector's sets of The Boxcar Children (my favorite series as a child) and Nancy Drew (Susan's favorite series, per her letter to me) and i knew then what the gift was going to be. my gift to Susan at our initial reunion is going to be a collection of seven of my very favorite books from various stages of my life. by no means an exhaustive collection of favorites, but a representative one. a bit of insight into the life i have lived, through the lens of my deep affection for words and language. because i cannot get perspective on this situation and i have no idea what type of behavior is normal, i have no idea if this is a reasonable thing to do, or if it just oozes self-absorption, but it is too late to try to think of something better. so a re-usable b&n bookbag full of my favorite literature is the gift she is going to receive. for interested parties, the collection is as follows, in this order:

• The Poky Little Puppy


• Frog and Toad Are Friends


• The Chosen


• A Tale of Two Cities


• The Giver


• Peace is Every Step


• Their Eyes Were Watching God

there is quite an intellectual development gap between 'Frog and Toad' and 'The Chosen' this i understand, but it is difficult to choose any book from the beverly cleary or judy blume line-up that is particularly and uniquely meaningful, so i skipped the elementary school phase. i did really like From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, however.... perhaps i will pull my copy out of my library and add it to the gift bag.... okay. insert Mrs. Basil E. between Frog and The Chosen and we have our list. now it is time for serious feedback, before it is too late and i have handed over the bag'o'books... is this a dumb thing to do??