This is the type of conversation I have with myself while I am getting ready for a trip. And, occasionally, they are fruitful. At least, that question was.
One of the joys of flying is having plenty of time to read -- usually. Long flights. Connecting time in airports. Waiting for ground transportation. They are all fertile ground for cultivating time to read.
That "usually" may give you a hint that this trip was not one of those occasions.
On this trip, I decided not to rely solely on my Kindle for reading. After all, I had started reading three of the hard copy books in my pile. So, I decided to take Jan Swafford's Language of the Spirit with me.
It was an odd choice. I told you yesterday, I have been playing the compositions he mentions in each musical period. But, I could always go back and read them when I was on the ground.
I was actually looking forward to reading a real book in public. After all, I have read multiple books on airplanes, trains, and, buses over the past seven decades. It would be like old times. Apparently I forgot there were lots of reasons why I enjoy reading on my Kindle.
I encountered my first problem with space. My Kindle slipped easily into my full back pack. The Swafford would not. So, I tried carrying it ("juggling" would be a better verb) while pulling two suitcases.
Because I needed to catch up on some contacts while I was at the airport, I was on my telephone the entire time. The book went untouched.
When I settled into my seat on the airplane, I knew that reading was out of the question. I encountered one of the hazards of flying. The woman seated next to me started talking and did not quit until we landed. I need to confess that I am more often the offender than the offended.
Usually, I have a two-hour layover in Los Angeles between flights. Not this trip. Both Immigration and Customs were backed up. I made it to my gate just as the door was closing. The book went untouched.
The flight to Seattle offered me my first opportunity to sit back and read. I opened my book, turned on the overhead light, and realized the light is perfect as a night light, but useless as a reading light. Even with my new glasses, I could not see well enough to read.
My Kindle, of course, being side-lit, requires no external light. And, if my eyes are tired, as they were, I can increase the size of the font.
My book was touched, but went unread.
The experiment was a disaster. Well, not really. We learn lessons in life through our failings.
What I learned is that a print copy is more of a hindrance than a joy. Just hauling it around was an annoyance.
Once I finish reading The Economist on my smartphone and National Review on my Kindle, I will tackle Swafford. Or maybe not.
My task list keeps growing here. The latest is an attempt to remedy a passport error before the end of next week.
The book may wait until I am on the ship heading south to transit the Panama Canal. There will be plenty of sea days to read, and, through the wonders of technology, I will be able to listen to the pieces Swafford references.
What could be better than that?
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