Tuesday, August 19, 2008
A Sense of Wonder
Harold is often perceived as having an almost childlike curiosity about everything. This is tempered with thirty years of experience, naturally – he no longer sticks anything pretty into his mouth after the affair of John’s patented painted rabbit droppings, no matter how funny the rest of us might find it. He does have an infuriating habit of pressing buttons to see what they do. An excellent affectation when confronted with a pedestrian crossing but not so useful in an elevator. Fortunately I disconnected the one that said “Disengage brake.”
If you’ve ever visited the shop you’ll know that its laid out according to subject: History, mythology, occult, religion. Languages (ancient and forgotten)* archeology, fluffy paganism and magical practice. Harold had the great idea before we closed yesterday of arranging the shop according to the colour of the spines. He’d seen a photograph of a bookshop that did it.
Of course, when we opened the shop this morning he liked it for about five seconds before insisting it all be moved back again.
Ten out of ten for childlike wonder but zero out of a hundred for being a farty poo face.
*Harold’s explained this twice, but I still can’t get my head around the concept of having a book about a forgotten language. I mean, it’s not forgotten then, is it?