I had a hard time finding my mojo today, or at least I think I did, if “mojo” means what I think it means, and it probably doesn’t. I really didn’t want to be pounding a keyboard at my day job today, is what I’m saying. My demeanor was much more appropriate for sitting on the sofa in a sweatshirt and baggy pants, sucking down a pot of coffee as I drilled through chapter after chapter of the latest book I’m caught up in.
Which is volume one of The Glory and the Dream, A Narrative History of America – 1932-1972, by William Manchester. I never heard of either the writer or the book until I found them both at the local library’s book sale and picked up the two-volume set for a couple bucks. I can’t get over the idea that you can still buy books in this age of Twitter bots and #FakeNews. I’m going to be the guy in your dystopian future who has hundreds of books hidden in the walls of his house. Come see me when books are a good thing again.