My addiction

After watching the cable channel SYFY broadcast of Alice this week I went searching for my Alice in Wonderland. I found the small volume tucked away on a shelf housing other books, gifts from my childhood. On the inside cover I found inscribed “To Elaine, from Mother and Dad Christmas 1954.” It is an inexpensive plain little book with an orange cloth spine and yellow cardboard stamped cover. It probably wouldn’t impress most kids today. The black and white Tenniel illustrations are sparse and strange; the pages have yellowed with age and based on the way I have been sneezing, it is jam packed with book dust.

It is hard to imagine how many times this book and its companions (some assorted Bobbsey Twins adventures, Little Women, Little Men, Nancy Drew mysteries, the Three Musketeers and a few other assorted titles) have been packed and unpacked during the last 55 years. They have lived in the mountains, in the dessert and now they reside in the mid-West. They are my constant companions and serve as the cornerstone of my extensive private library. Looking at them, I wonder did my parents, uncles and aunts know that their Christmas gifts would continue to be treasured more than a half century later. Did they know that they were feeding my book addiction?

As addictions go it is a fine one to have. While some addictions make you fat, and others fry your brain, my addiction has transported me through worlds where I have made friends, loved, laughed, hated, smiled, solved mysteries with the finest, chased spies across continents, felt like fly on the wall reading intimate scenes of Eudora Welty novel. And those magnificent hours spent exploring page after page of beautiful art books or reading aloud Wordsworth, Dickinson and Ferlinghetti are priceless. My addiction has expanded my world a billion fold. And yet, once read I am hard pressed to discard, donate, or give-away a book that has touched me, leaving me surrounded in my house by books.

My family and friends know me well, with Christmas coming I know that there will be at least one new book under the tree for me. There is nothing quite like opening a new unread book for the first time and for a few fleeting moments I will be nine again, and the book will strike the same heartfelt chord of joy experienced the first time I received a book for Christmas
The smell of the ink, the smooth touch of the pages, words blended into never before read sentences — an absolute aphrodisiac for the book addict!

May the season message of Peace be yours throughout the holiday season and in the year to come.