I lay on the grass today and read my book. I lay on my stomach in the sun and read Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut. Each time I read this book I am sure that it is my favourite Vonnegut book, but I do not know if I can say that I have a favourite Vonnegut book. What I like about the story is that the world ends not in some grandiose and important way but instead as a result of an accident brought about by vanity and the celebration of a great national lie. As I was reading it, I thought about how nice it would be if I was wealthy enough (or less concerned with my material comfort) to be able to spend all my time reading books.
I was asked a few days by a woman on the beach what books I read. This is not a question I like as I never know how to answer it. The few times I have answered truthfully I have been met with some kind of bewilderment. I do not understand the reason for this bewilderment, I do not read particularly obscure books or particularly new books. The bulk of my library consists of books which make those Best Of or Books to Read Before You Die lists or if the book itself isn't on there the author is. So I grasped around in my mind thinking of the author out of the 4 books I am reading at the time would be most acceptable. Thankfully the conversation didn't stay on books for long and I was able to shift it to my travel around America in July. Of course that led to the question Why go to the mid-west? To that I always answer, why not?
I wish I had more.
