Hello Chroniclers!
I want to take a little break from our normal posts about the happenings and goings on of our family. This post will mostly be about my experiences, and not necessarily Team Smith.
As an aside, Duke is doing his best to exhaust us. Take last night for example, I was up to 1:00 with him before I passed him on to Libby to stay awake with him for the next half hour. Then, he decided 5:00 was also a fine time to be awake for over an hour. He’s been doing things like this for the past few days. I suspect it’s part of his plan to overthrow the authorities. As in Art of War, I think he’s trying to wear us down before he makes his move… clever boy… too clever. Lord help us when he’s mobile.
Today is a sad day. Today, I learned Terry Pratchett took “Death’s arm and followed him through the doors and on to the black desert under the endless night.” For those of you who aren’t lucky enough to be familiar with him, he’s the second most read author in Britain after J.K. Rowling. In 2009, he was knighted for his contributions to literature. It gives you pause, and I want to take some time to share some of my memories of him.
My best friend introduced him to me in university. He gave me the first book of the Discworld series. I was struck by the irreverence. I was laughing throughout, but was still aware that I was reading brilliant commentary on society and religion and several other themes. One of the happier memories I have of that time period with my friend was skipping class (sorry, dad), hanging out in a bar, and quoting the book back and forth to each other. We laughed for hours, and enjoyed life.
As mentioned in a previous post, my cousin and I went on a backpacking trip to Europe. For three weeks, we travelled by train, plane, and automobile. To entertain ourselves on the train rides, we would read. Once we had finished reading the books we brought, we exchanged books on the trip. He gave me On the Road, by Jack Kerouac. It shaped my world view, and irrevocably changed my life. I gave him The Colour of Magic. I think it was an even trade.
I remember shortly after, during the last major downturn in the economy we went through, the first time I read Good Omens. Originally, when I moved to Houston, I lived in a nice apartment. One of my best friends lived in the same complex. Another friend of mine actually lived with me during the week and then would go back to Dallas on the weekends. It was definitely one of the highlights of my life. I really loved it there. Then the economy went under. I sat through a year of layoffs. Each month, another group of people were cut. It was stressful, wondering if you would have a job next month, each month wondering if this was your time. It certainly didn’t give you the confidence to make any long term commitments. It was during this time that my friend who lived with me, was let go from the company. My apartment also came up for renewal during this time. I was very nervous committing to a year lease, so I moved out of that nice apartment and into a crappy apartment that had month-to-month leases. It was old… It was poorly maintained. I had an issue in having the electricity switched over to my name in time, and had the electricity briefly switched off in my apartment. Never fear, though. Through a quirk in terrible wiring, I still had electricity to the back half of my apartment. A couple of weeks after I moved into this oubliette, I woke up one Saturday morning to a banging. I went to go investigate. It turns out it was one of the movers trying to kick in my front door. Needless to say, my time there was a bit spicier than I ever want to go through again. It was in this time that I picked up Good Omens. Since my television wasn’t working (due to the electricity still being out), I had to read. I read a lot. Other than the attempted break-in, my strongest memory that I have of that time is reading to the spider in my bathroom, whom I had named Crawley, after one of the characters in the book. I had a lot of time on my hands… Still, that was one of the happier memories from that time. In this current climate, where the same uncertainty reigns over the workplace, I am reminded of that rat hole of an apartment and the joy that book brought me.
Pratchett’s work still manages to touch my life in unforeseen ways. One of my good friends at work I met for the first time because he was carrying an Assassin’s Guild of Ankh-Pomork notebook. I recognized it, and it spurred a conversation that has grown into a meaningful relationship.
Upon hearing of Sir Terry’s passing, I told my friend the news. I knew that my friend had been reading Pratchett’s books to his kids, and they were bonding over bedtime stories of Discworld and the witches of The Chalk. His response stuck with me:
“Thanks for telling me. It’s nicer to hear it from someone who knows what it means. Even my kids will grieve. How cool is that?”
To share an experience meaningful enough to mourn the passing of the person who helped foster that connection to my child is something which I look forward to, and I very much look forward to sharing my love of books with Duke.
Thank you Mr. Pratchett for the memories you have brought to me so far, and for the ones I know you will help me make in the future. You will be sorely missed.