Finally, after 10 long years of wishing and hoping and thinking and praying and dreaming, I’ve been invited into the exclusive Munger Place Book Club. Through the years I’ve dropped innocent little hints about this nonchalantly with other club members, making sure they realize how much I LOVE to read. Hey Debby, I read the best book this week… Or, Sandy, what are you reading this month in your book club? (emphasis on ‘your’)
Smooth, I know.
Could they really not squeeze one more person into the fold? Someone who would bring wine and make homemade desserts or appetizers if requested. Or host for God’s sake.
I was forced to start my own book club with my former Lake Highland neighbors. We had been friends for years through marriages, divorces, childbirth, death of parents and neighborhood drug busts. It was great. We took turns hosting, sometimes meeting at my house while our Munger neighbors continued to gather and read all around us. Sometimes we met at a neighborhood restaurant or wine bar. Sometimes we actually read the books.
|Munger book club chicks|
I imagine the conversation was much like a sorority rush meeting as these women, my neighbors, friends, sat around discussing my merits and whether or not I was worthy for inclusion… She really does want to participate….She knows how to read…..She likes wine….I heard she is writing a book….
It may be the only one I attend, a part-time flake is probably not allowed in the Munger Place Book Club. But at least I was asked.
Who Wrote Holden Cauldfield?, Green Day
Wishing and Hoping, Dusty Springfield
Books are useless! I only ever read one book, “To Kill a Mockingbird,” and it gave me absolutely no insight on how to kill mockingbirds! Sure it taught me not to judge a man by the color of his skin… but what good does that do me? – Homer Simpson