I am a book junkie. I really can't help myself. My plans for a day always include spending time in a book store or a library whenever that's even a remote possibility. So tonight I sat down to spend some time with the book I'm currently devouring, and I took a moment to spend some time reading the dedication page. And that reminded me of something else so I tossed the book to one side and decided to share that something else with you, dear readers and loyal subjects. You see, books have always been important to me. I buy them and hold onto them forever... or until MPH (My Poor Husband) begs me to donate some of them to the local library and to please, please, please stop buying them and bringing them into an already full house.
Okay, it doesn't actually look this bad but only because I picked most of the books up off the floor and found shelf space for them... somewhere. But anyway, my love of books is rather notorious.
That said, I have to say that I was incredibly honored once to find that a book written by someone I'd worked with previously had been dedicated to me! The author had presented me with a copy of his book without telling me about the dedication. I remember thanking him for the book and then discovering the dedication page later on in the day when I was flipping through it. Now you can just imagine my delight when I found it... okay actually you can't because I've left out one teeny tiny detail... the subject of the book itself. I read the dedication, truly was honored by it, and then burst out laughing. I promptly picked up the phone and called my father. You see there was no way I was going to miss this opportunity. I figured there was no WAY it would ever come around again.
Queen: Dad! I have a book that's been dedicated to me!!
Dad: Really? That's great. What is it.
Queen: It's a book of poetry... well not exactly poetry... really it's a book of limericks.
Dad: (long silence) Limericks?
Queen: Yes. Limericks... Prostate limericks to be exact.
Dad: (long silence again) Well of course you do. Congratulations.
Yeah, my Dad has been known to take some pretty odd things in stride. You should hear some of the other bombs I've dropped on him. I'm betting that he's so proud that he typically forgets to bring this up during bragging fests with his buddies. But yes, it's true. There really is a book of limericks all about the prostate, an ode to the prostate if you will, floating around out there with a dedication to me and two other people written by a friend who battled prostate cancer and simply loved to write limericks. I still have my copy. And no, you can't borrow it. It's just one of those weird things I've managed to accumulate as I've gone through life. Only me...