I was dropped off early at university, a squeaky clean seventeen-year-old scholar, easily identified as a Southern California surfer dude with huaraches on my feet, knobs on my knees, and of course, a bushy, bushy blond hair do. My life now consisted of a single suitcase full of clothes, three boxes of books, an old typewriter, and a guitar (hey, it was the sixties).
Continue reading “Upper-Decker”Knock, Knock
Who’s there? Geats!
Okay. I should have made this entry in Old English, but despite my advanced age, my Old English is exceedingly rusty. By the way, that”s the yeah-ats.
Continue reading “Knock, Knock”I’m Tired … So Tired
Ah, the immortal words of Lili Von Shtupp. But it’s true: I’ve been dedicating half of my day to sleep, or at least to laying quietly in bed listening to Old Time Radio shows. The other half of the day is generally filled with books but there are also beaucoup de streaming stories to tempt me. I have noticed an internal regulator in my life that wavers between a low-grade panic when I’ve been ignoring my books and watching too much video and the opposite urge to take long breaks between novels and mainline a few episodes of the latest Netflix offering.
Continue reading “I’m Tired … So Tired”
A Celebration of Reading 