“Children are made readers on the laps of their parents [and in barbers' chairs].
—Emily Buchwald [and me]
I’m still at the office. Late-night grant writing is hardly a substitute for my Boden pj bottoms, and engaging pages. Like Jerry in search of a marble rye, Rae is hunting down the last good avocado in Henderson. (Taco salads are naked without ‘em.) Looks like we’re both striking out tonight. But there’s something to be said for striking out together. After one full year as side-by-side bloggers, I must say I’m feelin rather lucky. Lucky in spite of an exhausting, hectic (sometimes wretched) pace, because I’ve had to slow down, you move too fast—to write. Lucky because I’ve spent more minutes talking to Rachel when time has proven stingy. And lucky in love with the idea that even if only a handful of people have read more good books, we’ve made a difference.
We want to grow up to be like the barbers at the Fuller Cut shop in Ypsilanti, Michigan. Small-town kids plant themselves in swivel chairs for the latest do. Parents are in it to win it for the price, cut, and cultivation. You see, any child who reads a book out loud to their barber gets a two-dollar discount. How awesome is that? Fades and tapers appear with the sounds of We’re Going on a Lion Hunt, Rosa, and I am Jackie Robinson…to save a Thomas Jefferson, not to mention a child’s future. We bibliophiles can get behind this. In fact, I know two girls at twenty-seven (pretend that’s our age) that may well send ardent applause in the form of picture books to 307 Ecorse Road this weekend.
Thanks for the inspiration Fuller Cut! You too Rae. (Happy Anniversary dear friend.) Now that it’s nearing midnight, I’m dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep.