pleasing minutiae

Far too rarely do I have a day in which everything flows smoothly, clicks together, falls in place. Last week, I experienced several (continuous!) hours during which the events of my life flowed, clicked and fell. I shall bore you with the details now, my dear diary.

[Some background] I produce podcasts for my nonprofit job and often find myself conducting interviews with various authority figures around my county. People who have known me a long time may find it amusing that I now rub elbows with cops, lawyers, college presidents and parents — the sorts of people the young Hambox would have taken great pains to fear, sneer at, or simply be nervous around. Yet: here I am, jumping the shark of my own life miniseries and landing in middleaged responsible grownup land.

[Back to the story] I had a hard-won interview with the president of a local university, and it went super-swimmingly. Not only did he have a great voice and give good soundbite, but he made it clear that he was going to help me get access to some other, more elusive college bigwigs. I have never been a journalist but for a moment I felt like Intrepid Reporter, Getting the Story. Which led to  a fleeting, warm thought about Woodward & Bernstein and Watergate — bonus!

Afterward, finding myself in a part of the county I rarely go, I called a nearby coworker and made a date for lunch. He needed an hour, so I tried to think of errands to run in the meantime. I remembered that Borders Books and Sur La Table were both in this area.

[Aside] This is such a peculiar aspect to living in a area that is stretched out and linked by freeways — one keeps a mental database of  stores and services that are in specific areas. In this case, Borders and Sur La Table do not have locations near to where I live, so I took advantage of my proximity.

[Aside] This is what my life has come down to, getting psyched when I’m near a book or overpriced culinary tchotchke  franchise.

[Back to the story] Co-worker (hi Shawn) gave me ace directions and off I went. At Borders, I was burning to spend a gift card, since last year’s purse heist robbed me of many dollars’ worth of gift cards I received for Christmas. Gleefully I slapped down full price for a hard-cover edition of Mary Roach‘s latest awesome opus.

[Aside] Mary Roach deserves her own blog post. I adore her writing! How can you not love a person who writes books on death, the afterlife, and sex, and titles them Stiff, Spook and Bonk?

[Back to the story] I then wheeled on over to Sur La Table, wherein I strode with purpose, determined not to give in to what amounts to an entire store’s worth of impulse buys. Ah, gad, gadgets. I stayed strong by reminding myself that I don’t really cook outside of my 5-recipe realm, and bought myself one thing and one thing only:

I needed a plastic drip coffee filter holder thingie since my old one was callously stolen from the kitchen area at my other job. That plastic drip coffee filter thingie wasn’t just a trifle to me; it allowed me to brew fresh and quality cups of coffee for myself , thereby truly improving my quality of life.  You can read a short essay on this pressing matter here. Those thingies are harder to find than you may think; I had to make do with naked filters and burned fingers until I could get to a Sur La Table. And did they come through — fire engine red? Yes, please! As you can see, I have clearly indicated that this belongs to Becky of the Physics Department. If I coulda installed a small microchip tracker I woulda.

Shawn was stuck at the post office and was a little late to lunch, which gave me a little time to get acquainted with my new book, which was perfect.

[Aside] I love the new-read prep process. For a book, I like to read the dedication, read the bookflaps, fan the pages with my thumb, determine the page count, stare at the author picture, open the book wide and give it a sniff. For a magazine, I hold it by the covers and give it a shake, loosening the annoying drop cards. Then I rip out the subscription cards that are glued in. Then I rip out and discard all perfume samples. A thumb-fan, another last shake, a scan of the table of contents. and I’m good to go.

[Back to the story] And, lunch was great. And that was the end of a short, satisfying workflow of the machinery of my little tiny existence.

[Plaintive addendum] If you’re reading this, and feel like you can, please comment. I have absolutely no idea that you read this if you don’t tell me once in a while. See how good Cloudy is? See? I write this blog for myself but when the comments mysteriously dry up it’s suddenly a lonely, windy tor. I’ll wait while you look up tor. Thank you.