On Reading and Commuting
I've never been fond of commuting.
By train is bad enough, but commuting by car can really wear you down. At least on the train, you can sleep, read, balance your checkbook, talk to the person next to you (or friends or family on your cell phone, although I hear this is a no-no). In the car, though, you have to pay attention. You have to drive. You have to brake, constantly, for the idiot ahead of you who hasn't learned how to drive yet and shouldn't be on the road between 7:00 and 9:00 a.m. Don't get me wrong, of course there are things you can do while driving—donning make-up, eating, talking on the cell phone—I've even tried praying—but I'm constantly looking for new activities to help me make good use of my time in captivity and, generally, to forget where I am.
One weekday a couple of months ago, while sitting in stop-go traffic, feeling my blood boil, I was possessed to reach into my briefcase and pull out The Mermaid's Chair, by Sue Monk Kidd. A friend had loaned the book to me, and I was sitting there in the car thinking about how the book might end (the protagonist had gotten herself into quite a mess). Well, I found that if I propped the book up on the steering wheel, I could glance up and down enough to follow the plot in the book and also watch the breaklights ahead of me. First thing I knew, I was at the office, and I had no memory of that horrendous drive! It was a beautiful thing.
With later experimentation, I discovered that fiction works better than nonfiction (I guess you don't feel the need to highlight parts of it, which adds a layer of complexity to the procedure), and that smaller format, big-print paperbacks work better than hardbacks, paperbacks of larger format, or small-type books. The DaVinci Code was difficult, as it was in hardback, but A Beautiful Mind is killing me. (The logic and game theory to absorb; the teeny print. I'm not even bothering to look up the footnotes.) The best was Angels and Demons, a small-format paperback that moved quickly (very quickly). First thing I know, I'm actually reading again, and I always thought I didn't have the time. The big thing is remembering where you are on the page when you look up, and looking up often. Maybe it helps to be cross-eyed, which I am.
Yes, I tried books on CD. Try "reading" a John Grisham (e.g., The Broker) over the course of two weeks while you're commuting. If I ever did that again, I'd also get a copy of the actual book, for the weekend, when I feel compelled to "just finish the damn thing." David Sedaris's Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim was thought provoking, and, as it was a series of skits (a "book" you can put down), the CD did lend itself to the commute.
Oh, one more thing. No, I'm not crazy, but yes, I've had people tell me I am. They shudder when I pipe up and confess my latest driving habit, and I can tell from the look in their eyes that they want to ensure that they're never on the road the same time I am. Well, there are worse things I could do. Like go out on the roads between 7:00 and 9:00 am on a weekday without knowing how to drive...
Caveat:Children, do not try this at home, unsupervised!
P. S. All print books mentioned are available at http://www.amazon.com.
By train is bad enough, but commuting by car can really wear you down. At least on the train, you can sleep, read, balance your checkbook, talk to the person next to you (or friends or family on your cell phone, although I hear this is a no-no). In the car, though, you have to pay attention. You have to drive. You have to brake, constantly, for the idiot ahead of you who hasn't learned how to drive yet and shouldn't be on the road between 7:00 and 9:00 a.m. Don't get me wrong, of course there are things you can do while driving—donning make-up, eating, talking on the cell phone—I've even tried praying—but I'm constantly looking for new activities to help me make good use of my time in captivity and, generally, to forget where I am.
One weekday a couple of months ago, while sitting in stop-go traffic, feeling my blood boil, I was possessed to reach into my briefcase and pull out The Mermaid's Chair, by Sue Monk Kidd. A friend had loaned the book to me, and I was sitting there in the car thinking about how the book might end (the protagonist had gotten herself into quite a mess). Well, I found that if I propped the book up on the steering wheel, I could glance up and down enough to follow the plot in the book and also watch the breaklights ahead of me. First thing I knew, I was at the office, and I had no memory of that horrendous drive! It was a beautiful thing.
With later experimentation, I discovered that fiction works better than nonfiction (I guess you don't feel the need to highlight parts of it, which adds a layer of complexity to the procedure), and that smaller format, big-print paperbacks work better than hardbacks, paperbacks of larger format, or small-type books. The DaVinci Code was difficult, as it was in hardback, but A Beautiful Mind is killing me. (The logic and game theory to absorb; the teeny print. I'm not even bothering to look up the footnotes.) The best was Angels and Demons, a small-format paperback that moved quickly (very quickly). First thing I know, I'm actually reading again, and I always thought I didn't have the time. The big thing is remembering where you are on the page when you look up, and looking up often. Maybe it helps to be cross-eyed, which I am.
Yes, I tried books on CD. Try "reading" a John Grisham (e.g., The Broker) over the course of two weeks while you're commuting. If I ever did that again, I'd also get a copy of the actual book, for the weekend, when I feel compelled to "just finish the damn thing." David Sedaris's Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim was thought provoking, and, as it was a series of skits (a "book" you can put down), the CD did lend itself to the commute.
Oh, one more thing. No, I'm not crazy, but yes, I've had people tell me I am. They shudder when I pipe up and confess my latest driving habit, and I can tell from the look in their eyes that they want to ensure that they're never on the road the same time I am. Well, there are worse things I could do. Like go out on the roads between 7:00 and 9:00 am on a weekday without knowing how to drive...
Caveat:Children, do not try this at home, unsupervised!
P. S. All print books mentioned are available at http://www.amazon.com.
posted by Carpe Diem at 11:53 AM
4 Comments:
okay i am really sad to admit that in my younger days, a.k.a. "undergrad", i did the same thing. 76 is a btich in the morning and if you're not moving well...
it's okay folks, fearing for their lives on the highway, i now commute by septa -- a curse and glory in its own right.
I love it...I have to admit that I commute by Septa, but if I ever started driving into the city this sure would be a great way to deal with traffic (I'm sure lots of people would disagree, but I think it's creative). By the way I read the DaVinci Code and Angels and Demons and loved them, have you read anything else of Brown's?
Also, thanks for the links for the MAC HTML editors, I really appreciated it.
Thanks for your comments! Amanda,I haven't read anything else of Dan Brown's, but a friend (who is a writer) warns that a friend of hers was hired to write a "guide" to brown's works (art, churches, sites, etc.)--what's true and what isn't--and she found that a lot more was untrue than you would think. Her name is Sharon Neumann (sp?). I'm not sure when her guide will be published, but it will be interesting to read!
You frighten me.
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