Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Well...At Least I Can Read and Write Good.
I made the Top 10!!
Check this out:
I'm gonna print this article, frame it and then lean it up against the wall on the floor in the basement right beside my Honours English Degree.
A Little Anecdote:
Over the past few years, I've occasionally helped out at a super neat little independent bookstore in the town where I live. Historically, they've called me in during high customer volume times ...back to school, Christmas... that sort of thing. I say "Historically" because it's been a loooooooooonnngggg time since I've been summoned and I'm trying not to let it hurt my feelings. (I'm mostly joking about the hurt feelings. They have called but, much to my chagrin, I've always been pre-committed to do some dog stuff and have not been able to go in. My lack of last minute availability has most probably bumped me down on the "Who Should We Call to Come in and Help Out" list. Maybe I'm #5 on that list, too. Who knows?
Anyhoo, this particular bookstore is/was serving as the interim bookstore for a university that opened a campus in our wee city. The school was initially dealing with limited space so "my" little independent bookstore was called on to be Lakehead's official bookstore. (I believe the university has since opened its own on-campus bookstore...I'm a bit out of the loop).
One afternoon during the first week of last September, I was in the store helping them deal with the rather large influx of students. On this particular afternoon, I was sweeping the floor at the front of the store when a herd of fresh faced, eager university kids came barrelling through the door and made their merry way to the back to grab their copies of Moby Dick and The Glossary of Literary Terms.
Resting my chin on my hands on the top of the broom handle, I stood back to admire their enthusiasm and indulge in a bit of nostalgia...
"Ahhh, Self, remember when we were a fresh faced eager university kid. Boy oh boy, we had some fun."
And then I chuckled to my Self, standing there taking a break from my job sweeping the floor of a bookstore and wished at that very instant I was wearing a t-shirt/sandwich board/visible thought-bubble that read:
Here, Hold My Broom While I Dust Off My English Degree.
God's speed, young English majors.
Well, at least they'll be able to read and write...and sweep good, too.