My rift with Nick Hornby is over. I guess he didn�t notice the rift at all, or else he didn�t care, because he hasn�t called. But he didn�t see the look on my face as I plowed through that wretched novel, How to Be Good. I cannot even begin to describe the depths of my red-hot rage at that book. Wretched, wretched, wretched. I hated every single daft idiot character in that book. I learned nothing, save that I should be more willing to stick with my instincts, to trust that I will actually hate an entire novel, even though he�s never before led me astray.

My point, though, is that Songbook is amazing. Granted I�m only 47 pages along, but if it gets no better, why, even if it ended right here and now, I could still say this: I will treasure these words. This will be one of the books visibly marked as beloved, with bent corners, penciled notes and stars, and perhaps a few stray bagel crumbs. I�ve only just started (avoided �begun� there, see, so as to not send you off on a Carpenters-inspired daydream of running through the fields of gold) the book, and I want to go back and fuss over particular turns of phrases or thoughts that he�s finally articulated for me.

I haven�t even listened to the CD yet.

Let me now add--I don�t always agree with him. It doesn�t matter. I respect his opinion, and I understand the spirit of what he expresses--he�s not being that elitist music buff. No Dick or Barry, nor even Rob.

One can only presume that the people who say that their favourite record of all time reminds them of their honeymoon in Corsica, or of their family chihuahua, don�t actually like music very much. I wanted mostly to write about what it was in these songs that made me love them, not what I brought to the songs.

Word, man. And it just gets better from there. Each time I pick up the book, a big dopey grin comes over my face, and every now and again, I find myself laughing aloud. He�s so right, so funny. Maybe it�s just because I, too, respect, but don�t revere, Dylan. Maybe it was this: �Would it be possible to fuck to the tune of �Let�s Get It On� without laughing?�

Yep. Nick Hornby, we can be friends again. You�ve helped me find some words to express my adoration for favorite songs. You�ve helped me realize why I have such strong time/place images for songs that I don�t really like, yet nothing for those I adore.

And you have humbled me.

Now I must go, for I have a new CD full of songs to solve, and I couldn�t be happier.