Better Living Through Literature
Words + Projects + Stuff I Like
My friend was talking about a store meeting he gave and described his staff’s reaction (ranging from support to “reverence” to frustration to anger, apparently) and announced,
“I’m the Kim Jong Il of social stationers.”
I’m pretty sure I don’t need to call him ever again because I don’t think he’s ever going to top that line.
Last night’s catch-up with my best friend ranged from ADT to the human condition to Occupy Wall Street. During the human condition part, this exchange happened:
Me: “I don’t know, I just don’t think I’m ready to try dating on the Internet.”
Him: “Oh my god. No.”
And that sums up that human condition perfectly.
My best friend was out of town last week on a buying trip for his store, so we caught up last night on our Sunday phone call. He told me about some holiday stuff he had ordered (including Christmas ornaments that look like dinosaurs) and I asked him his opinion of a Christmas tree.
Me: “I have lots of space and basement storage and I kind of want to get a Christmas tree this year. But I don’t really believe in Christmas any more, so does that make me a hypocrite?”
Him: “No, it makes you a homeowner. Get a tree! It’s Santa Claus and the ho ho ho and a dinosaur for Toby!”
And that is my new favorite sentiment about the holidays.
During a brainstorming meeting at work last week, the subject of what we wanted people to say at our funerals came up. Telling this story to my friend over the weekend, I said, “I didn’t even think of an adjective; I just thought to myself, ‘I hope someone GOES to my funeral,’ ” and went on to tell him my latest irrational fear: outliving all my family and dying childless and friendless.
My friend, who is turning 50 in a couple of weeks, looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and said, “Well then, you may want to look into younger friends.”
My best friend and I check in once a week (sometimes more), usually on Sundays. Last night’s conversation ranged from one’s capacity for self-delusion to what happened at the store this week, and ended on the weather:
Him: “The snow is not helping.”
Me: “But think, everything that’s blooming now has adapted to being snowed on. It’s like magic, but it’s science.”‘