The canon that is my life

As a person of letters, that i like to fancy myself as being, i have a canon of literature that is my life. Many people remember what year something was because a certain band or song was popular or perhaps an event like an election or the Olympics were held. For me, There is a story for every event in my life. Take for instance the first novel i read, Robinson Crusoe. I remember toddling my little third grade ass to the school library on library day and checking it out. This caused a tremendous uproar in the school because that book was for fifth graders not third graders. When i got to my grandparents that day i was a little bummed out by the whole thing and the next day my grandfather convinced them it was completely alright for me to have that book. At the time i had already begun reading some shorts by Chekhov and Poe, what was Defoe going to do to me.

When i got married the first time i was reading a book on Sam Houston called Six Foot Six. I didn't know it then but i was feeding my need for all things Texas. I know what i was reading when all of my children were born and what i was reading the day i got the news my daughter Jackie had died. That day, i was reading The Things They Carried, by Tim O'Brien. The irony in this is still so horribly faceted that i reread portions of it to remind me of how i felt and to feel closer to her. I love to hate that book and it's one i never loan out.

The day that Donna and i decided to get married i was reading the National Electric Code. That should have told me that our life together was going to be something. Though i am unable to articulate what i mean by something, It can be said that there have been sparks, short circuits, and plenty of blown fuses, but the lights are still on.

Even as the years crept by, every landmark seemed to be punctuated by what i was reading. When the guys started school it was Catholic School and i was reading a series of books on the Saints. After Sept. 11, 2001, i had to sell my '72 Mach I Mustang because i, like so many others, lost my job and the Tech Writing market went to shit. I, just by happenstance was reading How to Win Friends and Influence People and The Chicken Soup book. When i met my best girl friend i was reading Eudora Welty and five years later when i heard she was pregnant i was reading A Hundred Years Of Solitude.

Today I'm not reading anything. This is quite unusual for me. I wonder if this period of not reading is a hallmark in my life. A great empty void where i can't continue on to what is next until i have put to rest those things that most prevalently occupy my mind. Some things are easier said than done. In this case my mind and my head aren't on speaking terms and it makes it nearly impossible to develop a solution to the quandary. There's a great line from The Prince of Tides that goes something like this: "I learned that I needed to love my mother and father in all their flawed, outrageous humanity, and in families there are no crimes beyond forgiveness. But it is the mystery of life that sustains me now. I look to the north, and I wish again that there were two lives apportioned to every man - and every woman."