Censorship

I've just decided I'm all for it.

In some cases anyway. Or at least a good filter or editing tool. Kind of like the VCRs that screen out stuff you don't want your kids to see. I'm on the verge of getting one of those too.

Lately I haven't had as much time to read. In fact, I've renewed my current library books no fewer than 5 times. Mostly they are just home idea books, but I haven't had time to even look at some of them because I've been working on the real deal.

The library called last week and told me that two of the books I'd requested for them to order had come in. I was thrilled, though the timing wasn't great. They were autobiographies of Andre Agassi and Craig Ferguson.

I love a good autobiography.

Not a biography, because anyone can say anything they want about somebody else. You still take an autobiography with a grain of salt but at least it's the version of the truth that the person themself wants you to know.

The last autobiography I read before these two was Home, by Julie Andrews. It was good, though somewhat depressing. It was sad how she was raised and the adults in her life, at least her mom and step-father, lived off of the money she brought in. So much, in fact, that she felt fully responsible for the livelihood of her whole family from a really young age and worked herself into the ground on many occasions, even through serious illnesses.

I started the Craig Ferguson autobiography, American on Purpose. And then I stopped. Now I realize that he's Scottish and all, but in the first two chapters he'd used the f-word twice. I decided to shelf the book while I decided whether to continue or not. Really, if I would have thought about it, I should have known it would be like that.

So, on to Agassi's book, Open. It was fascinating. He started out describing a tennis match at the end of his career and what his body had to go through just to get on the court. He really is a good writer. I was hooked, I couldn't put it down.

But then he started describing his childhood and how his father had tormented him and talked to him. F-words all over the place. I tried to cover them with my fingers as I read, but then on some pages I ran out of fingers. The language in his head and out of his mouth was no better during tennis matches. I left the book feeling disappointed and sad for him and his crazy childhood, or lack of it. It actually reminded me of Julie Andrews' childhood, the pressure to make money to support the family.

I don't suppose there is anywhere they have an "edited" version of books, is there? I don't dare go back to Craig Ferguson.

These are stories I really want to read, but I really don't want the garbage left in my head. I wouldn't say I have a photographic memory by any means, but I do know that I can remember things better if I see them. If I needed to study for a test in school I would do a lot better if I would write out what I needed to remember first.

Now I need to go back to a nice, happy, cute book again to rid my head of what was in it last. Any suggestions?