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I Have Maybe 82 Books Left to Read Before I Die

There are books.  There are lists.  And there are the Internets.

These three things combine occasionally to brush past me like a work friend on her way to get coffee or lunch.  We pause to chat then get back to whatever we were up to before crossing paths.

Today she passed me again.  A thought I had the first time but didn’t mention rose to mind again this time, so I’m mentioning it now.

In recent years I’ve been reading maybe three books a year, because I just need the time.  I’m not like some of these monsters that crank out a couple books a month.  At 39 a 230 pound non-smoker doesn’t have alot of good years past 80, so that leaves me 41 years of book reading available.

2 * 41 = 82

I have at best less than one hundred books I can read before I die.  No shit, that scares me too.

I should have a plan to remedy this.  A few things that come to mind:

  • Lose weight
  • Read shorter books
  • Kill the TV
  • Kill the Internet
  • Read faster
  • Live longer
  • Audio books (do those count as read?)

That’s about it.

How many books do you have left to read before you die?

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What Kind of Choir?

[place weekly bitch about not writing here]

The [something interesting] Choir stared after the body on the floor—willing it to take a breath. Jackern ignored them all—the body and the Choir. He grasped two daggers, one in each hand, butt to butt, one up one down in a neutral but ready stance. He let the inevitable victory replace the air in his lungs with each breath. He felt it’s warmth suffuse his blood and then the cells of his body. This moment, this ephemeral sensation, was the only real moment he allowed himself. Maybe slipping into character was the only other moment he allowed.

Jackern made his stance sloppy and forced himself to disdain everyone in the room. He glanced to eyes of the body at his feet long to see the pupils contract before the saving breath then scornfully sucked his teeth loud enough to draw the Choir’s attention. Jackern smiled like a fox exiting a pheasant coop and spread his arms as if to hug the entire gathering.

“Who’s next?”

Word count: 174
Day 220

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Where to Write About Aikido?

I’ve been thinking about doing a regular post to sum up the week’s aikido practice. Recounting my experiences would give me a nice career log as well as an excellent forum to teach back to myself. (Is that the word ‘study’?).

Recording my progress now might give me useful perspective in the weeks and months and years to come. I’d read back to the first few weeks to see how far I’d come as well as to empathize with the newly joined white belts. Who knows, maybe such a collection turns into a book of sorts.

More immediately, such an effort would instill the principals and techniques I practiced that week. I like the idea of summarizing because it gives me a mechanism for organizing that the mat doesn’t. Right now I step into the dojo’s stream to let it carry me where it will or to let it wash over me as needed. If there is a weekly wrap up, I’ve not showed up on that day.

I’m just not sure where to write it. Which is a totally dumb reason to withhold, but it’s the reason most slowing my down at the moment. I’m not really inclined to create yet another subject themed blog, but I’m not sure using up one of my 1000 days each week to write about aikido is the best way to go. Sure I’ve got that main blog I keep ignoring I guess it could go there. When no one is looking, does it really matter?

Maybe I just write stuff up and save it till I’m ready?

Word count: 269
Day 219