If there were a 12-Step program for Amazon he'd be the first in line. Not that he'd enrol in the program voluntarily, mind you. But his wife would be sure to sign him up.
It's amazing the number of CDs and books a person can buy in a month. It's quite possible he's broken the record. He loves to read. And while he reads he loves listening to music.
Many of the books he buys are e-books and thus largely invisible. They don't take up space on a bookshelf. They're only accessible on his iPad. And only accessible to him.
But his music on the other hand is something else. He's not a big fan of digital music so he orders very little down-loaded music on iTunes. Instead he orders actual CDs. The single discs aren't really a problem *he says smugly*. It's the multi-disc collections that stand out like a sore thumb.
"Where did that come from" she'll inquire. "Oh, that?" he'll reply. "I thought I told you I ordered that 20 disc box set of British invasion groups of the 60s." "Um, no you didn't tell me" she replies in a frigid monotone. It's amazing how the air in a house can go from a balmy 71 degrees fahrenheit to the temperature of Superman's Arctic fortress.
So to avoid the change in temperature he laid off on his purchases. He'd stockpiled his reading and listening choices and was sure that would last him several weeks.
All was fine for awhile, relations were friendly as the temperature rose in the house. But them a momentous societal event occurred. It was of such a monumental import that he was certain beyond a doubt that something of this import would never happen again.
Taking a break from reading a book on his iPad he decided to peruse Amazon. You know, just for the heck of it. What he found almost made him drop his iPad to the floor, threatening to break it and destroy his library of iBooks and what digitized music he'd downloaded from iTunes. Okay, okay he lied about not downloading music, thus doubling his music collection.
But what he discovered moved him to flash his credit card and click free delivery. A six CD package - 139 songs - of Bob Dylan and the Band's so-called Basement Tapes from 1967. What a find.
But wait, there was more. There was a Bob Dylan book called The Lyrics:Since 1962, a 13 pound 969 page compendium of all the lyrics from every Dylan album - ever.
His mistake was he left them lying around. When she saw them she was furious. "Do you know you are in deep trouble, John?" (not his real name) she cried.
"No" he replied calmly. "But if you give me a minute I can look it up on Amazon."