The Fires of Ignorance

When I was in High School an injury forced me to resign from PhysEd and accept service in the school library. I learned so much: how to load the date stamps clipped to the end of the pencils; how to carefully letter the spine of new books for entry into the collection; how to shelve books in strict dewey-decimal order; and which binding glue was the happiest. You know: all those skills needed to support a library in the 1940s.

Continue reading “The Fires of Ignorance”

Upper-Decker

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”

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”