a silly joke for the beginning of a silly enterprise. Well, maybe not silly but surely pointless.
in my time my life has been like most. I have worked hard, owned houses and been divorced. My kids and step kids are now grown and I have grandchildren.
I have been the victim of faithless love and been the villain of many a lover’s fight.
I am a retired teacher. It was just recently that I realized not going to work and sleeping late are not causes for celebration when you do them every day.
My long suffering wife and I are buying our first house together and I realized that I wasn’t going to pay it off. I will die before that happens and suddenly it seems I need to do something to justify my existence.
I fully realize that this view is a conceit but I think it a pretty common conceit. Perhaps it is just the habit of narcissism or maybe I want the journey to be something other than the successful transfer of DNA from one form to another. Ashes to ashes.
I would like to keep track of my reading over a stretch of time. This is not meant to be a literary blog. I will not impose that on either of us. I have neither the breadth of learning nor depth of thought for it.
It is really a call to come out and play. Books and music are the only constants and I want to share my feelings about them.
I am somewhat well read but in reality I don’t understand a lot of what I am reading. The process feels wonderful and it produces a feeling that I’ve just glimpsed the stars close up. This maybe nothing more than hokum and a product of the writer’s craft but it sure feels like so much more.
Comprehension of any book comes from intimacy. This intimacy comes from thinking like the author. It is not the story that captures you, it is the mind of the person writing it. As you glide along the story becomes simply the logical outcome of what you both have thought.
Then comes the end and you are forever surprised, no matter how many times you have done it, that it was everything you wanted and at the same time you are thoroughly confused.
I have felt this way from the first time I read “The Big Two Heart River” at 13 to “Moors Last Sigh” at 64 and everything in between.
Because of this confusion I would very much like to hear from others about the books I have read. Explain the last section of ” The White Castle”. Share with me that you also felt as you read “Cider House Rules” that you were brushing up against something very important.
After you teach me, tell what you are reading.
My Life Doesn't Make Sense Without Vinyl 