Thursday, October 11, 2007

To Dante and Back (sorry Eric)

Reading has become less and less popular. Okay, I know lots of people read everyday but many of them are not reading entire words much less entire books. Modern communication often requires people to talk in a language which had been exclusively reserved for personalized license plates. For example: “I would really appreciate it if you could send me a message on my cellular phone at a time other than right now.” becomes “plz txt l8r.” This is the human race’s alpha-numeric version of the clicks and whirrs dolphins use to communicate.
I appreciate the efficiency of this new version of the language, but I am too square to see any artistry in it. Crafting words is not just getting the most information into the fewest number of characters typed. Texting may be the modern day hi-tech version of the haiku. What is a haiku? It is a Japanese form of poetry which follows a strict set of rules requiring the poet to get the optimum amount of information into the fewest number of words. It is most commonly used as a tool to torture grade school students when it is assigned as homework to describe a spring rain.
Anyway, back to the reading habits of Americans. An AP poll published in August stated one in four people surveyed had not read a whole book in an entire year. The results were broken down into all sorts of sub-groups. Midwesterners read more than Southerners. Joke from the Midwestern point-of-view: It just takes longer to read a book when you have to move your lips. Joke from the Southern point-of-view: Reading is a great alternative to watching the paint dry on the barn.
Married men read more than single men. Well duh. A single man’s alternative to reading a book: hit the dance floor with a Jennifer Lopez look-alike and trip the light fantastic into the wee hours of the morning. A married man’s alternative to reading a book: re-grout the shower.
Women read more than men. Well, duh, again. A single woman’s alternative to reading: watch a man with severe delusions that he looks like Brad Pitt do odd arrhythmic gyrations at a garish discotheque. A married woman’s alternative to reading: watch a man with more thumbs than a hitch-hikers convention re-grout the shower.
I have readers in my family. I often have to take books from my kid’s sleeping hands after they try to read just one more chapter. My wife goes through spells of disappearing for hours or days when she becomes absorbed in a new literary discovery. My mother reads the classics and does not bat an eye if the page count of a book approaches a number akin to the blades of grass in Central Park. However, I have to say my brother, Eric, is the winner. Not only does he read more books than the entire population of many third world countries he reads books with titles too confusing for me to fully fathom.
Eric’s favorite book may by Dante’s Divine Comedy. I haven’t read it. I have a hard time dealing with the archaic language and situations. Maybe if someone updated it for the short-attention spanned 21st century man who will not get the Greek literature allusions any more than he can solve quadratic equations underwater, I’d read it.
I’ll get the ball rolling. Instead of Virgil as Dante’s tour guide through Hell, make it Geraldo. Just spending an extended amount of time with Geraldo is hellish in my mind. Also, for every level of Hell the punishments shouldn’t be so old school. Who can really empathize with sinners who are immersed in a lake of boiling pitch? That is so 14th century.
There are nine circles of Hell for Dante. Here are my suggestions. Circle One has sinners perpetually in the express lane at Dillon’s behind people with more than twelve items. Circle Two is a box of chocolates, all of which are coconut. Circle Three consists of riding in an elevator accompanied by three sumo wrestlers with 1,001 Strings playing the Paul Anka hit “You’re Having My Baby” on the little music speaker. Circle Four has you on a transcontinental flight seated between Anne Coulter and Keith Olbermann. Circle Five - karaoke. Circle Six is spent on the phone dealing with an automated directory trying to get connected to Heaven (“If you feel you have been cursed to eternal damnation in error please press 666 now.) Circle Seven - the “It’s a Small World” ride at Disneyland. Circle Eight is talking to your insurance company about money they owe you. Circle Nine…computers…enough said.

Christopher Pyle was read to most every night by his mother as he grew up. She read everything from “Freddy and the Baseball Team from Mars” to “Mr. Clutch”, Jerry West’s autobiography. She will have a special place in heaven for that patience.

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