A million years ago when I was in
high school, my mom took me and one of my best friends on a camping trip to the
beach. It was only about atwo hour
drive, but I remember my mom pulling out a box containing an audiobook and
announcing that she thought it would be fun for us to listen on the way there.
Fifteen year old Molly died a
little bit right there in the front seat of her mother’s Camry.
I could not believe that my mom
expected me and my FRIEND to LISTEN to a BOOK. WHATASTUPIDIDEAOMG.
Cut to our arrival at the
campground where we were all disappointed to have to turn the car off. It was a John Grisham novel, as I
recall. I was totally into it. Typical.
Shortly after that trip, I
promptly forgot all about audiobooks.
They were very expensive, after all, and when you’re 15 money doesn’t
grow on trees. It grows from Saturday
night babysitting and pays for Friday night bowling with a gaggle of giggling
gay girlfriends. At least it did for
Fast forward to Christmas two
years ago when my mom asked for a subscription to Audible.com. I didn’t give it to her because I was SO SICK
of hearing about how she was LISTENING to such and such book, and how she fell
asleep for the gazillionth time listening to Jim Dale reading Harry Potter. Her ipod was ALWAYS in her hand, it
seemed. Majorly dramatic eyeroll that
would put my fifteen year old self to shame.
Then, my boss gave me $300 worth
of iTunes gift cards for Christmas. I am
not a music nut, and I cuoldn’t come up with a need for $300 worth of apps if
my life depended on it, so I started contemplating audiobooks. Maybe just something funny for my commute
to/from work. Something to ease the pain
of traffic. And so there was Chelsea
Handler. And more Chelsea Handler. And then the new Janet Evanovich book came
out and god knows I don’t have time to read it, but why not give it a listen.
Before I knew it, I had my very
own Audible.com subscription and I was also borrowing books from my
mother. (By the way, if you have never
listened to Jim Dale read Harry Potter as you’re falling asleep, you are
missing out. It’s like having your
grandpa read you a bedtime story.)
So now, I am a convert with a
library full of audiobooks and the audible.com badges to prove it. And Catch is the one rolling her eyes and
interrupting to correct me when I say that I’m reading a book. “You’re LISTENING to a book,” she reminds me
with that disapproving teacher glint in her eyes.
Give it fifteen years and I bet I’ll
convert her, too.