Boredom in old age

 BEAR: I visited my brother yesterday.

HOOKER: He any better?

BEAR: About the same. I always feel so guilty after seeing him.

HOOKER: Why's that?

BEAR: All he talks about is how boring it is there and what a relief from boredom it is to have me visit. He makes me feel like I should be visiting every day. The thing is, I can understand why he's bored. Activities amount to exercising, bingo, cards, and Bible study. He sometimes plays pinochle once a week. That's about it.

HOOKER: Sounds boring to me, too.

BEAR: Do you ever get bored?

HOOKER: Rarely. You?

BEAR: Sorry to say I do. Our Tuesday coffees often are the highlight of the week. The rest of the time, I'm climbing the walls.

HOOKER: Now that surprises me. Doesn't your son live in Portland?

BEAR:  He does. But I'm lucky if I hear from him once a month.

HOOKER: Man, that's too bad.

BEAR: I hear from my granddaughter more often, even when she's back east.

HOOKER: I hear something like this and I don't feel so bad about not having kids. Other times I envy those watching their grandkids play Little League.

BEAR: My brother says the happiest people where he is are the ones who get regular visits from family, and on down the line.

HOOKER: I've never had to depend on someone else to make me happy, or keep me from getting bored. I'm my own best friend.

BEAR: I wish I could say the same.

HOOKER: To keep from getting bored I ignore pop culture, I try to ignore the news, and I wrap myself up with all my favorite music and books and film, and I positively wallow in memories of great experiences I've had. I don't have time to be bored!

BEAR: What old favorite are you reading today?

HOOKER: Funny you should ask because I'm reading a book I found on the net a few years back, which no one has ever heard of. My favorite five novels, in no particular order, are The Quiet American and The Human Factor, both by my favorite author, Graham Greene; The Grapes of Wrath; the French Lieutenant's  Woman; and this one, which is called Wes and Hayaam.

BEAR: What's it about?

HOOKER: A blurb on the back cover calls it Romeo and Juliet meets 9/11. That's pretty accurate. An NYU student rescues a young woman from one of the towers before it falls, she's Muslim and also a student and later they run into one another on campus. Coffee, walks, they fall in love. Family and friends on both sides object.

BEAR: Sounds a little controversal.

HOOKER: Sounds like something a Republican would say.

BEAR: There no longer is a Republican party.

HOOKER: Impossible to know whether it's controversal or not. No one has read it. I couldn't find anything about the author on the net. But it's not the story that attracts me as much as the way it's told. When she kisses him for the first time, it's "as soft as the landing of an insect."

BEAR: I like it.

HOOKER: But then he goes on to write: "No, he did not grab her breast. They did not fall to the ground and make passionate love. This is not a romance novel. This is not The Bridges of Madison County. This is not a Hollywood movie. This is the story of Wes and Hayaam." The passage still blows me away.

BEAR: You lose me here, Hooker. I guess I'm too traditional. I like poetry to rhyme.

HOOKER: I know of no better put down of all the sappy extreme writing in popular literature.

BEAR: Have you memorized the whole damn book?

HOOKER: Those actually are paraphrases. But pretty damn close.

BEAR: Sometimes, Hooker, like today, you'll say something that keeps me thinking the next day and even the day after. You're the best medicine for boredom I have.

HOOKER: Happy to oblige.

(Pause.)

HOOKER: "No, he did not grab her breast  They did not fall to the ground and make passionate love. This is not a romance novel." The author puts himself in the romance reader's face, Bear. I love it.

(End)