Ode to my book club

Oh, book club.
You are the best book club. You are funny and intelligent and serve excellent food at each meeting and tasty wine most months. Together we explore great literature and crappy new releases alternately with crappy literature and great new releases and our opinions are well-informed and not easily changed. As we stray off topic, often never to return, some point this out while the rest of us ask for seconds on dessert. Cloth napkins our banner, required to wipe tears of laughter but also handy for mopping up drinks when someone bumps the table around which too many of us have gathered. Are we going to talk about the book? our motto. Who’s hosting next month? our call to arms. I’ll be there but I need a ride! our battle cry, answered the third Monday of each month by these, our comrades in pages.
Oh, book club.
You are the best book club.
I love you and will miss you.

And now a book club haiku:

You bought the book? Why?
Library books smell like chalk.
And stink up my car.

Last night was my last book club meeting for a while. See above to know how I feel about that.

Days until takeoff: 8.

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4 thoughts on “Ode to my book club

  1. Best book club ever. Each month I’m struck by how different we are from each other in our personalities, ages, and circumstances, and yet, it is the BEST BOOK CLUB EVER. How does that happen? Washington DC is not THAT far away, is it?

  2. We love you, too. And we’re having too many pages ripped out. Hopefully they will be pages like starfish (but without the starfish smell, although maybe that is really why the library books are stinking up the car), and grow other book clubs…but we miss the pages, nonetheless.

Shout at me.

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