this is water, this is water, this is water...

vintage 1977 han solo blaster pistol

My nephew, who is known by all as Uncle Dill, is turning five years old next week.  His parents will not let me give him a switchblade to mark this milestone, so I am doing the next best thing and giving him this fine weapon which I have carried for the last thirty years. He is a genuine Star Wars freak, so I think he is going to be very excited. I wish I could be there to see his face, but I will get to hear all about it when we meet them in Kingsport later this month.

category II weapons

…any “martial arts” device (e.g., Chinese Star, nunchakus, dart, etc.) miscellaneous devices such as swords, sword/knife canes, ice picks, chains, bow and arrows, brass/metal knuckles, object placed on fingers, in hands, or on fists or knuckles to provide a “loaded fist,” etc. (Code of Conduct & Discipline Handbook for Fulton County Elementary School Students, Parents, & Staff,  pg. 10-11)

• Category I Weapons include guns and bombs.
• Category II Weapons include almost everything else which “school administration could reasonably conclude as being used as a weapon.”
• Category III Weapons includes three specific items: plastic disposable razors, “look-alike” firearms, and sling shots. (I like to imagine that this category was created in response to a single incident that involved all three items.)

We have to remind the girls daily that they cannot take their ninja stars or sword canes to school with them to school, but I think they still occasionally conceal brass knuckles in the bottom of their backpacks.

(image via Escape from New York)

the before and after

Those trips to the library, the used book store, the record shop, the thrift store, browsing through boxes on some guys porch were entertainment to be sure, but they were also a desperate hunt for stories about the world beyond the small window in front of me.

Before alibris, amazon affiliates, google books, blogs, the ability to search the catalog of almost any library in the world from this shady porch, before all of these wonders, scavenging the physical world for these artifacts was the only way to get them. The copy of that book you found might be the only one you would ever see in your life, your only chance to find out what it said. That shitty third generation cassette tape copy might be the only way you ever heard that song. These things were treasured, and once acquired, they were priceless in the truest sense of the word.

This book, The Mother Tongue by Bill Bryson, occupies a special place for me straddling this before and after. While systematically working our way through a dusty used book store on Arcadia Avenue, a good friend and I simultaneously discovered this amusing looking book about the English language. This simultaneous discovery created a dilemma that was ultimately resolved by a friendly co-ownership* of the book.  We had shared custody of this thing we had never seen before and may never see again.

It turned out to be the funniest book of stories about language as language that I have ever read. Subsequent searches of the local libraries revealed no other copies so when we recommended this humorous and out of print volume to others, their only way to exerience it was by reading the copy we loaned them. Ultimately, someone other than me wound up with this book.  I hope they have enjoyed it and passed it on.

Some years later, when the possibility of buying used books online became a reality, I thought of this book.  I found it and wound up buying a copy for less than we had paid for the first one on Arcadia Avenue. I had enjoyed the possibilities of the internet before that purchase, but purchasing that book was the moment when I felt the wealth of this place.

It has been pointed out that Bill Bryson is not a linguist, and I agree that there are many fair criticisms that could be made about the technical details in this book.  However, Bill Bryson is a wonderful storyteller and my experience with this book and its story of the English language led me down paths of exploration that might never have seemed as compelling without it. This book reminds me of early explorations, of time spent with a friend, and of the before and after that defines this era for me.  I own many objects that I would part with before this one.

*At another time, this same friend and I wandered into a house party during one of the epic rambling walks we would take.  It turned out that we knew of some of the people at the party, but really we were strangers enjoying the hospitality and liquor of our generous hosts. We stayed for a while and only decided to leave when a fellow guest handed us a loaded gun and offered to sell it to us for ten dollars. He was agitated, altered, and seemed motivated to get the ten dollars quickly.  While my friend held the gun, we pooled our money and gave the guy his ten dollars**.  Then he gave us a box of extra shells and booked out of there.  I think we had one more drink to calm the nerves and to give the ad hoc gun vendor some distance, and then we borrowed a grocery sack for the gun and walked home.  It was a memorable evening to say the least.  That is how I came to co-own a gun and a book with my friend.

**We weren’t really in the market for a gun, but it is only a matter of time before the fucked up guy that is offering to sell you a loaded gun comes up with a different idea.