The Fountainhead

is the book to carry with you if you want to identify with Bostonians. Since beginning the book on Wednesday (at the Red Sox game), I have had strangers of all shapes and sizes commenting on my reading choice. One man shouted at me from across the stands at the RS game, and another, not much older than I, confessed to me on the T that he had personally read it 30 times. And so continues my treck across foundational literature.

On this last Red Sox Wednesday (and the longest day of the year), I also bought:
– Cry, The Beloved Country
– One Hundred Years of Solitude
– East of Eden
– The Chosen

What an outstanding summer lies before me.
p.s. does anyone else get that strange feeling in the back of your throat when you eat pancakes? As much as I enjoy pancakes initially, that unnerving sensation lingers, bringing with it feelings of guilt and nervousness about – something – I’m not sure what.

Leave a Reply