Eye Strain

There are certain times of the year when it's best to read a book. Late summer nights work well. Late autumn nights too. I would add late winter nights and probably late spring ones to that list. Why do I read that late? The damn phone probably won't ring. There's little noise drifting in from the neighbor's and night with it's cloistered feeling helps a lot too. The chief reason is my genetics tends towards insomnia. All the males in my family, Dad, my brother and I, had this. So, why not make use of the time with something that doesn't obtrusively violate that near church-like stillness and quiet. It's the book and I and prayer time! I also like to have a jar of peanut butter between my legs with a spoon to eat it out of as I read.


I used to read actual books. Now I read PDF files stolen with the help of uTorrent, thereby skirting the payment I would've had to make to the rightful owners, the authors. Computer books aren't the same though. I stare onto a LCD screen that bathes this room in that eerie moon-glow at 1 AM. Add to that the constant whirr of the CPU fan one foot from me. Books on the other hand are smaller and when opened, have an organic smell to them. My computer smells of polyvinyl-chloride and gallium arsenide.


Still, with this advancement in technology and my Yankee stinginess, I will continue to read off this screen.


How many books have I read? To me the question is, “How many books have I re-read three times?”


A heaping a lot I can tell you.


Where did I get this bug? I'd have to say from my brother who did buy books and out of curiosity I picked one up. Our Dad, who started this late night reading habit, wasn't a huge eater of books but did read on occasion. I swear he also picked up my brother's books, out of his own curiosity as well.


My brother once watched, in horrified shock, my Dad finish a book. Decision at St Vith was about how the US 106^th Infantry Division was completely scratched from the Earth by von Mantueffel's Fifth Panzer Army in the Battle of the Bulge (Note: We Americans don't always win). When my Dad finished the last page, he turned around in his chair and chucked the book right into the kitchen garbage can. It wasn't a critique of the book mind you. My Dad treated books like consumables where you tossed them out after you ate it. My brother and I instead, had shrines to books called bookcases. Well, at least Dad read. He also at the age of 43, would go to toy stores and buy and build Monogram WW2 tank/plane/navy ship models. Go figure?


Anyway, I read a lot. Always have and will probably do so till I go blind. Then I can get into audio renditions of books.


Here's just a tiny, tiny sample of what's upstairs in the “book room” now.  All of them are good.