It’s been a little while since we checked with Ben of the Blog. He’s been busy.
One of our frequent activities is shopping for books, and Ben enthusiastically leads the way.
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Ben very seriously considers which one to pick at Half Price Books, or, as Ben sometimes refers to the place, “Sells Books.”
In Ben’s case, however, you might argue it could be called “Filches Books.”
Usually when we’re there, it’s not crowded, so when we take the book up to pay, there’s no line or maybe one person paying. Then we do the whole “pay the money” thing.
But if the timing is bad, and there’s a line, we just walk out — with book in (Ben’s) hand.
OK, but before you judge us or call 911, here’s how I can sleep at night and why my priest says I’m still going to heaven (or I’m sure he would if I went to one).
1. Ben having to wait a (for him) long time to pay would not be good for him, me, Karen, other customers, the staff, the decor, the larger Cleveland area…
2. It’s always a Golden Book, just about the cheapest things in the store, a buck or so;
3. A typical trip involves Ben and me going to the car after he buys/filches his book (always only one, and the staff never seem to notice, maybe because he always walks in with one anyway) while Karen continues to shop and picks a dozen or so more, pays (yes), and meets us out front where we pick her up.
So, the way I see it, the (only sometimes) filched Golden Book accounts for maybe one or two percent (at most) of the total Karen spends, and considering Ben is a very, very regular customer, a small (five finger) discount is not unreasonable.
And they like him there, so I don’t think they would mind donating a book to a good cause. And I ask you, what better a good cause is there than Ben?
Ben evaluates his options
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Autism, go figger… Ben loves books, always has one, owns tons of them, and lately, he’s been in a new phase — tearing them to shreds while riding in the backseat. Hey, they’re his. Maybe it’s performance art.
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Ben after a walk through the Akron Zoo, another destination he enjoys. A cloudy, late December day in the 30s is perfection for us — no crowds, no heat, and most of all, no open food concessions!
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Bubbles much?
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Ben’s version of “Juggling” — fling, without warning, a book high into the air, even if there’s a ceiling in the way. Within a week of moving into his house, this was on his bedroom light. And his smoke detector. And his fire sprinkler.
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Karen aka Mom aka Ben’s hand towel.
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RIVETED! Ben loved his video (on VHS!) of The Rainbow Fish half a lifetime ago (literally, before he moved out at 12). When we were in the elevator up to our floor today, he was scripting “The Rainbow Fish,” and I said, “Let’s see if it’s on YouTube” — and it was. So, for the first time in 13 years, he watched it — at least, half of it. Then he started requesting other old favorites, and each one was easy to find. (Ah, our modern age.) He loved it all.
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One of the advantages to being there on a Thursday is having Ben’s weekly Music Therapy session at our apartment. To see Ben engaged and focused — and super duper happy — for a full hour speaks to the magic of music, and Julie.
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Karen: “Hey Ben, help Mommy by putting on her sock.”
[OK, so she didn’t specify, “all the way on.”]
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On Ben’s bed when we arrived — the activity on the right was helping him wait for what was promised by the board his staff prepared on the left.
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We sang Happy Birthday to Ben’s Bubbe via speakerphone this weekend, with Ben blowing out the candles for her on the banana cake (and yes, those are Hanukah candles, but in a pinch…). Karen, Ben and I each had a piece. Guess which one was Ben’s?
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Ben resists the temptation to blow out the Hanukkah candles.
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Until next time… And thanks for looking!