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Give me back my Kindle!


I’m okay sharing my bank account, my bed, my body, my children, my soul etc… But don’t ask me to share my Kindle! Look, there are some things that are just not shareable, and my KIndle is one of them.

Okay, so it’s not really MY Kindle. If you want to be technical about it, it’s his. I bought it for him for his birthday last year. It is probably the only gift I’ve ever given him that he actually enjoys. He used it all summer during our travels and he used to use it each morning on the ellipticle. But he got busy at work, ceased exercising altogether and left it to atrophy on his bedside table.

I tried to leave it alone.I knew it wasn’t mine. And honestly, I didn’t think I would become so attached so quickly. But after three trips to various Barnes & Nobles, searching for my latest book club book, I decided it was absurd to waste my time looking for a hardcover version of some $25 book that I was literally going to read and then throw away. So in a weak moment, I ordered a book from the Kindle store and started reading.

Then I was hooked. I started using it every night before bedtime. After a few nights, I started taking it with me during the day for down-times during my carpool regime. I started to wonder how I had ever lived without it (kind of like garage door openers or television remote controls.) I began reading voraciously. One night it finally ran out of juice and I could barely cope. Luckily I found a way to stretch the cord to my bed so I could manage my now ritualistic nighttime reading.

And then it happened. I climbed into bed a about a week ago, turned on my bedside lamp and reached for my new addiction. It was gone. My husband was innocently snoozing beside me. I leapt out of bed and began racing through the house in search of my drug of choice. Finally I found it lodged between two cushions on the couch. I gently cradled it in my arms and safely returned to bed with it. But when I “slid and released the power switch to wake” my coveted mechanism, I was met not with Dinesh D’Souza’s Life After Death: The Evidence but instead found myself smack dab in the center of Norman Podhoretz’s Why are Jews Liberals? It was an afront to my psyche. The last thing I need to be reading before bedtime is some of my husband’s right-wing political propaganda.

I was able to find my spot back in my D’Souza book and his well researched data and philosophical musings helped to ease my mind and allowed me to drift off to sleep peacefully. But this was more than a one night mishap. Every night for a week I’ve gone through a similar trauma. One night I landed mysteriously in Stock Market Wizards by Jack Schwager. Another night proved particularly upsetting when I found myself trapped in the mystical Kabbalah, Science and the Meaning of Life by Rav Michael Laitman. But perhaps most disturbing was my accidental forray into Stevens Levitt and Dubner’s SuperFreakonomics: Global Cooling, Patriotic Prostitutes and Why Suicide Bombers Should Buy Life Insurance.

I ask you, objectively, are these the kinds of books one should be reading as one relinquishes consciousness and ventures into another dimension? Certainly not! And more importantly, should I be forced consistently to rampage through the house in a frantic effort to locate this pint-size electronic device?

So I have decided to allow my husband the use of his Kindle under the following circumstances:

1) He must accept the fact that it is now my piece of equipment and while he may use it from time to time, he must remember to always keep it charged and replace it from whence it came.

2) I officially have the right of first refusal regarding Kindle usage.

3) Should a Kindle conflict arrise, I alone will assess the situation and render a fair and just judgement as to who is entitled to Kindle usage at that time.

4) He will be responsible for any maintanence/repairs needed on said Kindle.

5) Finally, should we fill up all available Kindle space we will jointly determine which books to delete. (With me obviously having the final say should we come to a standstill.)

Well, I feel much better. It’s wonderful when two people can learn to live harmoniously together. All it takes is a little effort and communication.

Kindle culprit

The Kindle that almost destroyed our marriage

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About gettrich

Debra Rich Gettleman is a professional actor, playwright and journalist living in Seattle, WA with her husband Mark and two amazing boys, Levi and Eli.

3 responses to “Give me back my Kindle!

  1. yetta gettleman ⋅

    I cerainly will not be a judge as to who is the rightful owner/user of the Kindle, but I will tell you that this article was well written and very funny.

  2. My mother is Helena Schwed, an old friend of your family. Are we related ? Somewhere out of the recesses of my memory your name came to mind and I did a web search. I’ve always thought I was named after a great aunt named Yetta from somewhere in Southern Texas.

  3. I truly enjoyed your article. My mother is Helena Schwed, an old friend of your family. Are we related or just family friends ? Somewhere out of the recesses of my memory your name came to mind and I did a web search. I’ve always thought I was named after a great aunt named Yetta ( I thought her last name was Gettleman). from somewhere in Southern Texas. Any relation of yours ? Her sister was Sophie Novick.

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