What do they talk about at book club?

WHAT’S SO FUNNY

This month it was Patti Jo’s turn to host book club. She cleaned all

around me on Thursday and put new tile under the stairs, and the gang

came over on Friday night.

Book club evening begins with food, and then there’s a book to

discuss. This discussion lasts around four hours. Husbands are

expected to stay out of the way on book club night, and take the kids

with them.

I took Katie out to Borders, which we explored pretty thoroughly.

Then we came back into town and went to Hapi Sushi and had some New

Zealand baked mussels, which were excellent.

When we got home there was still talking and laughing in the

living room, so Katie and I said hello, went upstairs and watched our

new DVD of “Waiting for Guffman,” which was also excellent. Heck of a

night, really.

I asked Patti Jo afterward how long the actual book part of the

discussion took, and she said, “Oh, not long.”

Now I haven’t given up on life; I’m curious about what my wife and

her friends were talking about all that time. But it’s a curiosity

spiced with dread; I don’t pursue it very far. I’ve overheard women

shooting the breeze a couple of times in my life; they can forever

alter your vision of yourself in a sentence or two.

Of course, these book club members are benign, but they’re also

sharp. Patti Jo has shared a few previous highlights with me, and I

can tell the meetings cover a lot of ground -- kids, life, stuff like

that. And now and then the talk gets what you might call

relationship-oriented. That’s the part I don’t ask about. I just hope

for the best.

Actually it all sounds a lot pithier than the male poker nights I

used to participate in back in Chicago. The truth is that men just

don’t do book club. When men have an organized get-together, it’s

usually either to compete with each other or kill something.

At least, that’s how it used to be. I haven’t been out with the

boys in some years.

That’s all about to change, though. I have been invited to join a

group of guys who occasionally go out to have dinner and see a movie.

It’s a men’s movie group. Club. Thing. I’ve never been in one. I

don’t really understand it; it’s not, apparently, for drinking. I’m

not sure what the point of it is. There doesn’t seem to be any way to

win at it.

But I’ve agreed to go at least once; I feel I should. It’s

occurred to me that I’ve been married so long I don’t know what men

talk about either.