I am nearly 2/3 of the way through Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry, and I cannot stop reading. I cannot put the book down. It’s like Mark Twain got hold of David Milch’s Deadwood scripts and squeezed all the Shakespeare out of them and made the storylines more humane, more real, funnier and sadder. My sister is appalled that I haven’t read it before now, but sometimes, there are books you read late in life because that’s when you are meant to read them. I feel that way about this book.
Today I went to an office supply store to get a rolling file box for the stuff I have to take with me to the youth retreat trainings. I was wandering up an aisle searching in vain for this box when I heard a voice say “Can I help you find something, ma’am?” I turned and a young male employee of the store was walking toward me and I blinked and shook my hair out of my eyes, but I wasn’t seeing things: more than half his face was covered by a grotesquely swollen blue and red birthmark. I was in a flurry to reconcile my embarrassing revulsion, my admiration that he had such confidence, and my determination to not blurt out “BIRTHMARK?!” He helped me find what I needed and then got on his little walkie talkie and radioed to cashier who’d done the price check for him. “She’s headed your way and she likes the price,” he said in a low voice as he walked away. I’m still confused about the whole incident.
I refuse to feel Amish just because I’m not on Twitter.
Some days, I just want to be you, Mary. You have this ability to capture what’s in your mind and put it in words.
Have you still not figured out the incident? I’m wondering if maybe it’s their code word and a way to pass the time at work? You’re probably not the only one who reacted that way? hmmm … puzzling.
You’d only feel Amish if you lived where I just moved from and cut your electricity and wore rather plain dresses on a daily basis. Twitter is addicting … sometimes annoying … sometimes wonderful … but mostly just another time-suck!
Ouch. I am certain I read Lonesome Dove decades ago, but now I can’t remember it at all and it makes me sad, because you’re enjoying it so much and because my brain is obviously fried.
Let’s never mention twitter again, ok?
I love your description of Lonesome Dove, and as a Deadwood fan, I think I’ll have to go read it now.
…. But what I’m really stuck on is your use of the term “late in life.” As I say to my kids at school when they are ridiculous, “Seriously? SERIOUSLY?!?“
Lonesome Dove was a revelation when I read it last year. I still think about it sometimes. McMurtry’s a genuis.