Kindle, I'm just not that into you.
This is what I was thinking when a woman slid into the seat next to me on the bus one recent morning. As I was settling into a book of my own, she discreetly pulled her electronic reader out of a plastic bag and turned it on.
I tried eyeing her without seeming too obvious, you know, like when you want to see what someone is reading but are afraid to ask. It was slick, shiny, sexy and looked good in her hands. My book was fat, frumpy, forgettable in my hands.
When I buy a new book, which this one was, I like to press my nose against its pages and breathe in deeply. I love cracking open the pages and thumbing through them, a few at a time, to get a feel for the paper. The colorful cover of a book with its big bold letters speaks volumes about the kind of ideas that interest me and hold my attention for hundreds of pages. Clean white paper is perfect for writing on, and I need to be able to doodle, draw, underline, highlight or otherwise scribble notes to myself in the margins as reminders of the good parts.
I don't think you can do that on a Kindle.
The lady put her Kindle away and got off the bus. I kept on reading my book, "Stillness Speaks" by Eckhart Tolle. It's my second time reading this nonfiction gem and I'll read it yet again in a few weeks once my friend returns it to me.
Would you lend a Kindle to a friend? I wouldn't - but a book, you bet.