Used Book Smell

Today in the mail I received a "new" book I bought on half.com.  Daniel Quinn's Ishmael.  The book promises to make you want to change the world.  Which made me think that sometimes, I wish things would just stay the same.  Alright, most of the time.  What's the obsession with new? Improved? Shiny?  With age comes wisdom, no?  Some things really do get better with age.

I need it to be known:  I don't do change.  I bought my new MacBook and had a 24 hour time period where I stressed that it wasn't exactly like my old one (not to worry, Mac never disappoints and it's better than my old one).  I've had panic attacks when the TV station changes the channels that my stations are on.  

Getting the used but new-to-me book in the mail today was comforting.  The pages are little worn and yellowed, the binding with some wrinkles from use.  I like the smell of it.  It smells like a library.  I don't know where the book came from and who owned it before me or how many people have read it.  I can imagine that it lived a comfortable life on a bookshelf somewhere after a brainy university Literature major read it for a class that I would never have taken myself.  Said student might have then passed it on to a friend.  Friend read it only half-way through thinking it's boring and sold it at a garage sale.  Buyer is an avid ebay-er and likes to resell their purchases online for profit.  I bought it, it's mine now. 

I promise this new (old) book that life with me will be easy.  I'll read the story, but won't read into it.  I won't toss it to the recycle bin when I'm done or sell it at a yard sale.  I'll pass it on to a friend and the story of this copy of Ishmael will continue.

I like the smell of a new car and I like my shiny, new MacBook.  I like old buildings with history.  I like the old mansions on Riverside Drive.  I like novels that have seen some of the world and come back a little yellow and a little worn.