Books can be magical

I've mentioned before how much I liked the book "All Over But the Shoutin'" by Rick Bragg.  I read a lot of books; Sometimes I choose a book because it's popular, or I'll pick books by certain authors whose writing I enjoy.  John Sandford comes to mind.  I look at reviews, and at the New York Times best seller's list, although many of those are romances; I don't like romances unless the love story is part of a larger story, because they tend to start out with two people hating one another (or barely tolerating each other) and by the end (surprise surprise) they're madly in love.  Besides, some romances get a little mushy and sillly for my tastes.  

If a friend recommends a book, and I know I've enjoyed some of her recommendations before, I'll read that.  I do pay attention to genre, because there are some great books out there that I wouldn't necessarily like, even if my friends do.  

As I was reading through Rick Bragg's childhood, I noticed a lot of his growing-up experiences were very similar to my husband's childhood.  Once I finished the book, I started "suggesting" to Cliff that he would really like the book.  OK, I suggested it a lot, to the point it almost became nagging.  I just knew he'd relate to the story, and I couldn't see him going on with life without first reading that book!  

He knows how to tune me out.  After all, it's summertime and there's plenty to do without reading books.  

When we had decided (OK, I decided) we'd go to Omaha, I wanted to find an audiobook in the library's collection that would keep us interested during the three hours plus it takes to get to Omaha, and the same amount of time returning.  I didn't have anything specific in mind.  Then I happened to notice there was an audiobook version of the book I was (and still am) reading, also by Rick Bragg:  "The Best Cook in the World".

It's another good one, with more stories about the author's childhood and a lot of his family background.  "If Cliff could hear a little of this book and find out how good it is, I'll bet I could get him to read the other one," I thought.  That was my plan, then.

We don't have a bluetooth speaker in our old 2003 Mercury, but I have a cheap little thing I bought on Amazon for the books we listen to in the car that booms out the sound just fine.  The iPad isn't loud enough by itself for Cliff to make out the sound, but when I connect it to that little speaker, it transforms the narrations just fine; if we listen to a really good book, the miles melt away.  

Once we were on the fringes of Kansas City, we began listening.

The magical element is this:  Rick Bragg himself is the one reading the book: once his voice begain coming out of that speaker, I went to a whole new level in my appreciation of his writing:  When that warm, lazy, Georgia/Alabama drawl began describing Rick's mama's food, I could see it (and smell it) in a whole new way, although I had read that part of the book before.  He starts right out describing things his mother cooked, and it sounded incredible with his voice carrying it to my ears.  (Warning:  Do not read this book on an empty stomach.)

It was like poetry, really, that voice.  Cliff agrees.  We laughed our way through several chapters on our trip.  I'm still reading the latter part of it, but I sort of wish I were still listening:  You can see the cotton fields, hear the chickens cackling, taste the moonshine in your mind, in Rick Bragg's voice.  

So.  Don't read this book.  I'm serious, do NOT read the book, "The Best Cook in the World".  Listen to the author read it.

I'm sure it's in your public library, so you don't have to buy it.

Sincerely,
Donna