For all the reading I do I've not read Gore Vidal. Maybe because they always look like doorstop bricks rather than books. I've traded books with a bus top buddy. He handed me a first edition Gore Vidal, Lincoln to borrow. He did say that Vidal gets "gossipy". Yep. It's chatty and gossipy and informative and entertaining. I'm thoroughly enjoying this. (I can't believe it, the calliope just started playing. I haven't heard the neighborhood calliope in over a year. It's playing, Do Your Ears Hang Low. Amazing)
The hardest part about the book is that it is a first edition. I didn't borrow him a first edition, did I? Maybe I did. But it was a free book. In any case, I don't want to carry this book on the bus. I don't want to eat while I read. I don't want to take it to the beach with me. I feel that I must sit quietly in a proper chair bent over this proper book till my neck hurts. It's a good book, it takes me a while to realize my neck hurts.
I wasn't in the mood to read when I started this book. I wasn't in the mood for really anything. I'm still not. I get my clothes ready for work, I go to work, come home, do nothing to speak of and go back to work the next day. It's not a bad life. I've let most everything slip by the wayside. I play guitar still; nothing recognizable. The fairytale blog is in hiatus, nothing recognizable there either. My instinct is to do nothing. I'm getting good at it.
I should go wash my hands so I can get back to reading...