I love books. I do. I'm not going to lie. I often find more enjoyment out of a good book then I do people. Today the weather was rather unpleasant-- translation: it was snowing-- big wet snow flakes. I don't mind snow so much, but I really don't like that kind of snow. Its tough to see when you drive and it is just rather unpleasant. So, I stayed home and I did a very geeky thing. I took all the books (probably a couple hundred maybe as many as a thousand) off my bookshelves, dusted the shelves and put the books on said shelves. As I did this I watched/listened Kenneth Branaugh's Henry V and then I watched listened to "Looking for Richard" (a documentary film done by Al Pacino about Richard III). I never really liked Shakespeare, but Doctor Stayton kind of fixed that. I had no choice but to like (perhaps better said Love) Shakespeare. She did just about everything she could to get me become a Bard-o-phile. I sat through her class on Monday nights (cutting into my tv wrestling time, I might add) and then she "sent" me to the Stratford Shakespeare Festival in Canada (Sherrah went, too. I guess it took. I'm still reading and watching Shakespeare-- at present I am reading Richard III. I want to read Henry V, but I have to slog through Henry IV parts 1 and 2, first (as per Stayton).
I also have quite a few theology books. I've "stolen" a few of them from my father's library, most of them are aplogetics. As I was cleaning my shelves I pulled down all my Greek and Hebrew books (they are left over from my abortive attempt at Semiary five years ago). I have often thought that I should just get rid of them, but I remember just enough (particularly Hebrew) that I can go back and do a little "translating." Every now and again when I'm reading the scriptures I find something that makes me go "hmmm, is that really what it says?" So, I go find the verse in the original language and attempt to translate it for myself. Its often an ugly process, but I have found it to be invigorating.
I've discovered that I don't have much in the way of novels. I have a small collection of art books and I have a shelf double stacked of paperbacks (that is where most of my novels are located). I got rid of a few books and I threw away a few things (mainly some old bottles and trinkets that don't mean much any more). I kept all the Camp Staff pictures, I looked at them and, sadly, I don't remember some of the people I worked with. I see their pictures, but I can't remember their names. I had forgotten about two "awards" I got at camp. I guess I can give a good "sermon" when necessary and am good at giving "impromptu speeches" for the life of me, though, I don't really remember why I was given those "awards." I'll have to ask someone sometime. I generally like to keep my mouth shut mainly because I developed a stutter while I was in high school and it really causes me some problems.
Speaking of high school... I realized today that it has been 13 years since I graduated from the hallowed halls of Nothern Garrett High School in Accident, Maryland. Wow, how the time has flown.
But I'm not talking about my high school experience (I went, but I don't particularly remember my high school years with great relish).
How did I get the topic of high school? I don't know. To tie this up in a somewhat nice neat bow: I read a lot in high school. There wasn't much else to do. I fell in love with books in high school. I used to drive my teachers nuts because I would sit in the back of the class with a Stephen King novel-- that might be why I kind of jsut barely squeaked through a couple of my classes. *chuckles* So be it.