I love books. I love old fashioned, non electronic, yellowed, feel the texture of the cover and pages, audible page turns with a sound that matches the mood of the read, meaty, weighty, unique musty scent, pen markable, dog earable books. Unfortunately, I have so many that I cannot take them all.
Each book represents an equal amount of beans, or rice, or water in terms of weight. To protect my intimate friends, I've suggested to the crew that I give up some portions of my beans. Each pound of food stuffs I forgo would result in another soul to take along. Hell, I could afford to lose 20-30 lbs and that is 15 or more books! Alas, my allocation of personal items is the same as the rest of the crew.
4 rounds of a whipping post (picking which of these comrades won't make the journey with me), and I'm finally done. Last night was it. I had to rank order my friends. 13 books. That's it. 9 of which I know intimately, 4 that I will get to know.
Yes, I'm familiar with the Kindle, the Nook, and other such devices. In fact, Val has a Kindle. Hard books, real books, books that you can touch, feel, hear, and smell have a soul. They have a life. They have a journey unto themselves. They make their own passage in life. They go from one person to another. They show their wear as they journey.
It is time for all of my book friends that can't make the trip to go on their way, to new people, to continue their life in new ways.
Bye bye book friends. Thank you for all that you've given me, and all that you will continue to give me even when gone. I will miss each and every one of you.