Today, I had what D.A. Norman, in his book The Design of Everyday Things, would call a “description error.” I entered the office of our secretary at work, and holding out a manila folder that wouldn’t stay closed, I asked, “Do you have an umbrella I can wrap around this?” Umbrella?
My first thought was, “That reminds me of Oliver Sacks’ book, The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, which I read years ago.” My next thought was that a lot of the letters in the word “umbrella” are found in the words “rubber band.” How interesting. My third thought was about Mrs. Malaprop. And my final thought was about aging and Alzheimer’s.
I bought tickets to the July 29th James Taylor concert. We’re under the covered pavillion in section 6, row P, seats 20 and 21. We hope to organize a tailgate party with Bryan, Jen, Mary and Charlie.
I added two CDs to my amazon.com wishlist today.
I got an e-mail at work today from someone I’ve never met who read my coming out journal entry. She wrote: “it was your entry on coming out to donna that smacked me right between the eyes. there is so way not enough time to even go into it here–suffice it to say that it only echoed such bittersweet memories of my own very similar experience in 1982. had to take a few deep breaths just to collect myself after reading it. sometimes i used to wonder if i could possibly be the only one who went through what i did only to find that, through the years, there were so many others who walked in those same shoes.
it’s a shame we don’t live nearby; i know there is much we could discuss that would clearly resonate within my soul. you are, without question, a most profound writer. the ease with which you manipulate the written word to capture and harness your spirit, and the utter ease in which your thoughts flow from within, is indeed a most incredible gift. i realize that this next statement may sound so trite, but i mean it just the same. thank you for sharing this with me. you have indeed touched my heart today, john, and gave me pause to be so incredibly grateful for where i am in my life today.”
What could be sweeter, as a writer, than to hear the words, “you are, without question, a most profound writer. the ease with which you manipulate the written word to capture and harness your spirit, and the utter ease in which your thoughts flow from within, is indeed a most incredible gift.” Except perhaps, as a human being, to hear, “thank you for sharing this with me. you have indeed touched my heart today, john, and gave me pause to be so incredibly grateful for where i am in my life today.”
My heart is full.