One nice thing: Missing the point completely
No thoughts. Just vibes.
When I was 17, I stole a copy of Forever by Judy Blume from the school library. This was pretty easy to do. I would always just tell the librarian that I was stealing a book, she would say “oh, Mark,” like she didn’t believe me, and then I would walk out of the library with the book in my backpack and go home to read it. Then, if I liked it, I would keep it. But most of the time I kept the books because I am bad with deadlines and would forget to return them — so why bring checkout cards and due dates into it?
Ostensibly, Forever is a book about two teenagers who have sex and then nothing bad happens to them — which is not a thing I made up, but I think something Judy Blume said in her book of advice columns, which I also stole from the library (but returned). I do remember the teenagers having sex and I also remember the fact that the main male character named his penis and put cologne on it, which is a personal choice that everyone is free to make.
What I remember most, though, is that the main character’s family was really into latch hooking. Judy Blume mentioned them engaging in this activity several times throughout the novel and I found myself skipping through the sex scenes — which have never, unfortunately, been my girl Judy’s forte; See: Wifey; Summer Sisters — to find out exactly what latch hooking was and how one might go about doing it.
I remember the arts & crafts portion of the book so clearly, in fact, that when I heard an ad for a new series based on Forever while my husband and I were listening to The Read (his favorite podcast), I said “Oh, I wonder what kind of rug they’ll all be making.”
And he said: “Is this a show about making rugs?”
And I said: “It is to me.”
My husband has never read Forever (which I am not naming over and over for SEO points) or anything by Judy Blume, so he had to take my word for it, which is usually a mistake but also nice when it happens. So he kept listening to the podcast and I sat in the passenger seat and thought about all the hooked rugs I’ve made since I read Forever and how I even bought a special stand once to attach them to for easier hooking and how it cost $119 and how none of that would have happened if I hadn’t stolen the book from the library, completely missed its point, and decided to focus on the fiber art content of its contents.
My psychiatrist would probably say that this is a sign I should have been diagnosed with ADHD earlier in my life. I agree, but I also think it’s nice to be oblivious, once in a while. Then, while everyone else is engaged in discourse and analysis, you can just say “oh, I never picked up on that at all” and gently excuse yourself to get another drink of water or use the bathroom.