I officially give up. There is now too much information. Even when I try to learn, my brain informs me that, due to circumstances beyond my control, I am closed. Recently, I was in Austin. I know, look at me! World traveler. And when I’m in Austin, I always visit two of my favorite places. Waterloo Records and Book People. They are across the street from one another. Very convenient. I get very excited thinking about it. Music and books are weaved throughout my life. On my table next to my drinking chair sits at least 20 CDs and 30 books. Whenever I am sad I look at my table. I look at my table all of the time.
I walked into Waterloo Records. It’s organized chaos. Music is alphabetized and categorized for both enjoyment and protection. There is nothing I have to have, which means I am not looking for anything in particular, which causes me to be rudderless, which makes me nervous. I have several hours before I have to be anywhere, so you think that would be a perfect scenario for leisurely browsing. Nope. I wander over to the listening station and gaze at the selections. Okay, I like Lindsey Buckingham. Great guitarist. Plays with his thumb. Had sex with Stevie Nicks back when she was prettier and I had bangs. I fumble with the headphones and try to put them on over my hat, which I’m wearing because I am bald and don’t have sunscreen. My hat falls off. I pick up my hat and drop my sunglasses. I put the headphones back on the hook and knock several Wilco CDs off their perch and onto the head of a baby sitting quietly in a stroller. Until then. I decide I’m more in the mood for books, so I leave. Quickly.
As I enter Book People, I am greeted politely by a staff member who apparently hasn’t heard that I am a one man flash mob. I decide to get some coffee from a woman who would have to do some major disassembling of her face to pass through a metal detector. I figure a double espresso with steamed milk is the perfect companion to help me in my quest to find the perfect book that hooks me in the first few pages like a deep sea fisherman and keep me engaged for the next 400 pages so that when I finish I feel both a sense of accomplishment and worn out from my word journey.
But it doesn’t happen. I pick up several books that the staff recommends on a note card, begin to get the jitters from the caffeine jolt, leave the books on a display where they don’t belong and make a beeline for the bathroom.
Sometimes, there are more important things than the arts.
Dave Little is a Dallas-based stand-up comedian, writer, musician and actor. He’s funny for Best of Texas twice a month, but he’s funny all the time on his website www.lovedavelittle.com.