Sunday, March 20, 2011

#257: Everyday I Write The Book

It seems that everyone I know wants me, nay, expects me, to buy a bloody iPad so I can read books. The fact that I own several thousand books – not an exaggeration mind you – means nothing to most people, but it means something to me. Still, people do argue the point with me and insist that I’d be far better off with an iPad. I can see the merit in an iPod, indeed I have one, but I still hyave a pile of vinyl for the same reasons I’ll always have books – some things just aren’t the same with technology, and some things just can’t be found on new technology. But that argument aside, here’s the reason why I won’t be rushing out to buy an iPad anytime soon.

I bought this today at a local market for the princely sum of $2.00. For one it’s cheaper than a download and for another, well, there’s nothing more exciting than finding a book that is almost sixty years old in such beautiful condition, and has a lovely inscription from the original owner in it’s pages. Ron and Elsie are probably long gone now, but I love them all the same. Elsie was clearly a princess of a person for buying such a brilliant piece of literature for her beloved Ron, and for his part Ron must have been a very educated person, and both kept their books in stunning condition – this is a book that most likely wasn’t read in the shithouse.

So the day I can get the same thrill from an iPad as what I got from holding this book in my hand after handing over a small gold coin, well then I’ll own one. But, frankly, I doubt that day is going to be coming along that rapidly. So, and you know who you are, stop trying to convince me than an Ipad is the way of my future. It might well be the way of the future, but I like holding classic books such as this in my hand, reading it and then knowing that it’s in my collection, until I drop dead and someone else hopefully gets the same thrill when they eventually find it.

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