{"id":7199,"date":"2021-07-22T07:04:15","date_gmt":"2021-07-22T14:04:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/?p=7199"},"modified":"2021-07-22T07:04:16","modified_gmt":"2021-07-22T14:04:16","slug":"book-chat-mans-review","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/meditations\/book-chat-mans-review\/","title":{"rendered":"Book Chat Man’s Review"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Today was the day I told the universe it was going down. Book Chat Man would be there sitting on his usual sidewalk reading a book while drinking malt liquor or smoking or both. This certitude meant the $20 gift certificate I procured from the local bookstore was stuffed in my pocket, ready for presentation to Book Chat Man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was only two days ago that I saw Book Chat Man propped up against a grocery store and reading my novel The Great Birthright <\/em>as he waited to redeem cans and bottle to sustain his life as a homeless man residing somewhere in or around one of the wealthier neighborhoods of Portland.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The idea was to award the gift certificate in appreciation for his reading my novel after the Book Chat Man delivered a review of it to my face without me first revealing I was its author. What fun and I mean that in all sincerity!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was prepared for a drubbing, indifference or praise with his review. For some unknown reason, I wanted a drubbing and I wanted it bad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Why would I presume he finished reading the novel? Because he’s the Book Chat Man! I’ve never seen him reading the same book on consecutive days. He’s always got a new one, always novels.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was a pleasant overcast morning. I rounded a corner on my bicycle and there he was! I pulled over and got off my bike. He recognized me and said hello. I said hello.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He was reading The Sea Wolf <\/em>by Jack London. He was drinking a can of Smirnoff Ice Smash malt liquor and smoking a cigarette.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I asked him about a book I saw him reading in front of the grocery store. It had a bluish gray cover with a dog on it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe Great Birthright<\/em>!\u201d said Book Chat Man and he said it with significant enthusiasm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat did you think of it? I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI loved it! What a read! I finished it earlier this morning and gave it to a barista at Starbucks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I revealed myself as the author of the book.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh wow! I can’t believe it! I loved that picture of you as a kid on Cannon Beach.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We discussed a few particulars of the novel. Clearly he had read it all. I can’t say that about most people I know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI found it in a book nook,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI put it in there,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I presented the gift certificate and told him the reason for the award.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Book Chat Man’s face lit up. He thanked me. He told me he appreciated me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I gave him copies of my two recent clandestine publications, got on my bike, and rode away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Book Chat Man’s name is Mark and it occurs to me as I write this that I have had the most interesting and unique literary conversations of my life with a homeless man while he either drinks malt liquor or smokes or both.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wonder what titles he’ll purchase with the gift certificate.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Today was the day I told the universe it was going down. Book Chat Man would be there sitting on his usual sidewalk reading a book while drinking malt liquor or smoking or both. This certitude meant the $20 gift certificate I procured from the local bookstore was stuffed in my pocket, ready for presentation […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":7200,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,28],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7199","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-meditations","category-writing","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7199","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7199"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7199\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7202,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7199\/revisions\/7202"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/7200"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7199"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7199"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7199"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}