Two Years

Today marks two years since I moved here from Essex. Earlier this morning I got a reminder of why I made the move. I had stopped off at my favorite caffé en route to an appointment to evaluate a Web site and had pulled out my book, The Phenomenology of Perception, by Maurice Merleau-Ponty, to read over my espresso. Not a lite read, nor a short one, but I’ve figured that if I don’t have time to read philosophy now, I’m never going to have it.

“So, are you reading about a hundred pages an hour?” this old guy asked me, winking at the size of my tome.

“No, not this one,” I said, smiling.

“That’s a fascinating one. I’ve read Merleau-Ponty.”

“You have? That’s great.”

“I read it in the original French. It took me forever.”

“It’s going to take me forever, even in translation,” I said.

He went back to his political debate with a couple of friends, and I went back to my book. When I read a book, any book, in public in Essex, people looked at me like I’d put on airs. Here, I can talk to people in caffés about philosophy. A much better fit.

When I left, I said goodbye to the man. “Have a great day,” he said. “Good reading.”

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6 responses to “Two Years

  1. definitely sounds like a better fit for you :-)

  2. I love it when I see people reading proper books in coffee shops or on the train, Sassy.
    I always check out what folks are reading and usually it’s crap; I’ve had some good conversations over the years with people whose books intrigued me; just this last week including two women on the tube who were reading Burroughs’ The Place of Dead Roads and Hourani’s Islamic Thought in the Liberal Age.

    Yay for smart chicks. Hee hee.

  3. Isn’t it nice to live in an area where if you’re reading anything heavier than Danielle Steele people don’t assume you’re doing it for a class?

  4. Manuel, thanks.

    Conortje, it is so much better.

    I love it when people read cool stuff on the train, Dive.

    Andraste, it rocks.

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