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What do these books have in common? Laughter on the 23rd Floor, Freakonomics, The Red Tent, and Rachel was his wife, I Love You Now Change? My answer? (The teacher in me wants you to know that I'm interested to hear your answer too, which I'm sure is very good.) They are all books that I borrowed years ago and have yet to return. (That reminds me that I have three pouches of creamed spinach in my freezer which neighbors put in before Pesach. I keep thinking to return them. In moments of weakness I've thought of eating them. That reminds me of the story in the Gemorah about the Rav who held onto something someone left with him and he kept caring for it as it multiplied and he transferred it into other things and became a fortune. Years later the man, who had forgotten about the whole thing passed through, and was presented with all that had accrued.) I picked these books randomly from the borrowed collection, which makes passionate writing a challenging. And yet.

Laughter on the 23rd Floor - At the end of social work school a classmate in her fifties who I never had much to do with invited me to an end of school party. She thanked her husband publicly for his support. There were two women students leaning over a Formica counter-top, were scouring The Times for jobs. They reminded me of those two critical old men from The Muppet Show, frowns chiseled into their skin. They asked, in a judgmental tone, if I was looking for a job, having just graduated. "No," I shocked them. A few weeks later, Fate offered me the job which I still hold (poo poo poo). I picked a book off the shelf and looked at it. The hostess offered to lend it to me, adding - "It will ensure we stay in touch." When I called about returning it she didn't seem to know who I was. Today, I remember her essence, but I don't remember her name. Key line (pg 113), "I would have followed Max to the ends of the earth. But the earth went off the air on June first. And we all went our separate ways: some up, some down, some struggled, some had more babies, and one, like Brian, died much too young."

Freakonomics - This is one of several books (Others include Tales Out Of Shul and Blink) lent to me before my neighbors went to Israel for two years. They're back and don't have shelf room. I check in every now and then and they say to hang on to it. I do hope that they have room for the cream spinach. It would be a shame for that to go to waste. (When I was a kid that packaged cream spinach was one of my favorite foods. I used to mix spinach and mashed potatoes - my dad's [HSLABW] idea. Delish.) Sample (pg 20) "Economics is, at root, the study of incentives: how people get what they want, or need, especially when other people want or need the same thing."

The Red Tent - About 8 years ago a ninth grader, out of the blue, said that she thought I would like this book, so she lent it to me. I couldn't get into it.The next year the girl had switched out. I would have to work hard to track her down and am willing to bet that she doesn't remember having lent me the book. (I've freaked people out in the past by returning things they didn't miss. I recall giving a shocked and mocking neighborhood father an Ellery Queen book that I borrowed when from his son when he was in 7th grade and he was I was in 8th. I once borrowed a book Haim Ginot's Teacher and Child from a woman who liked a friend of mine that I crashed with for a summer. About 12 years later she started working in my school. I felt funny giving it back, but she was right there. So one day, when she stepped out, I left the book in her office.) Notable quote (pg 1), "It's a wonder that any mother ever called a daughter Dinah again. But some did."

and Rachel was his wife - I've tried but can't find any deep meaning in the use of small letters in the title - it might just be an example of trying too hard. I think it would be sensible if books were sold with plastic on the covers the way you get them in libraries. The way it works now you choose if you want to protect the cover or the book. The person ahead of me on the Barnes and Noble line to get her book signed by Nicole Krause had the cover removed? "You like to preserve the cover, so you take it off?" Nicole asked her and she replied yes. Then Nicole said, "I do the same thing." Anyway, I must have borrowed this book about fifteen years ago from a woman I was dating seriously. I wanted to protect the cover so I took it off. Years later while sorting through papers with my personal organizer I came across the cover and it had a crease on the middle part that lays on the spine of the book. I looked online and it seems the book is out of print. This one seems do-able to return, and I hope to, one day. Sample passage (pg. 6): "But I knew Rachel, and you can believe me when I say that Rachel was everything a true daughter of Israel should be, and everything a woman could be. Yet she prided herself on only one thing: she was Akiva's wife."

I Love You, Let's Work It Out - I was dating someone seriously and one of her close friends lent this book to another one of her close friends, who lent it to me. It's filled with underlines, most of which I agree are spotlighting strong sentences. The owner of the book, last I heard, is still single. It's been almost twenty years. Maybe one day the opportunity will present itself to return this book, which I have a hunch has been forgotten. For the NY Times obituary regarding the author's young and sudden death see here. Here's an example of an underlined passage from this borrowed book (pg. 27-28): "Sometimes we deceive ourselves into believing we have what we need just so we can avoid being alone. We may claim we are committed to the other person, but deep down we know we are not getting what we want. When our commitment is tested, we find ourselves holding back, and often can't understand why. Knowing what you now know, would you still choose the person with whom you are involved? If so, why? If not, why"

This post brings to mind a piece I'm fond of that was based on six randomly picked benchers.