Why I Read

I read to be entertained not necessarily enlightened but if along the way the latter happens then great for me! I do like reading the classics but most turn out to be disappointing works of snobbish blather. Two classics that turned out to be major disappointments for me were The Great Gatsby and A Farewell to Arms; The Heart of Darkness, while better than the other two left me wondering why Marlow didn’t just kill himself. On the other hand, a good Orwell novel, short story, or essay is always great – we do, after all live in a 1984-esk world.

Maybe my statement that I don’t read to be enlightened is a little harsh. It is not that I don’t want to gain understanding of the world around me but I already live in that real world so that reading books that focus on the pain and suffering or torment of others is not quite what I am looking for when I read. I read to escape into another world. It is the same for movies, I would much rather watch a good action flick rather than a movie focused on a person suffering from cancer. Not that I am unsympathetic to that person’s suffering but I have experienced that in real life already; it cannot get more poignant than that.

I like mostly to read history and good biographies, but that is nonfiction. When it comes to fiction I enjoy science fiction and books a little on the edge between possibility and impossibility. I enjoy the books by Dan Brown; the slight reinterpretation of history. In that category are the books of one of my favorite authors Steve Berry, whose main character Cotton Malone chases around the world staving off cataclysmic disaster.

I remember the first book that really drew me in, The Count of Monte Cristo. It took me two months to read – I am a slow reader, but took me to a world of adventure that I still remember. I have always wanted to go back and read the book but there are so many other books that need reading. I read that book in high school. Then I discovered science fiction and that became my joy. I mostly liked reading short stories because it meant that I didn’t have to commit to a long drawn out story that I might not finish. I was for most of my life a lazy reader. I read a lot of Asimov and Heinlein in college and whenever I actually took the time to read the books assigned to me in my literature classes I was always impressed how much I enjoyed reading them.

Somehow I managed to get through most of my English/reading classes in high school and college without ever reading all of the assigned material. This of course was before the age of computers and Google, so I couldn’t just go online and download the relevant information and generate an essay or pass a test. So, I didn’t have to do some reading. Sometime in the 90’s I finally started reading in earnest; at that time only history and biographies. I would put together lists of 10 or 12 books that I wanted to read and then just start reading. It might take me most of a year to get through the list but I do it and then when that list was complete I would make another and read that list also. Sometime in 2008, as a gift I was given my first Kindle reader, which by the way I still have. At that time the Steve Berry novel The Charlemagne Pursuit was being advertised on the radio station I listened to as I drove back and forth to Albuquerque for work. So, that became one of the first books I downloaded and read on my Kindle. It was also the book that got me hooked on Berry’s Cotton Malone character so I download the previous 3 books in the series and read them. I also downloaded Dan Brown’s The Lost Symbol (on my drive back and forth to Albuquerque I listened to his other books on audio – through Audible). I read a couple of Kurt Vonnegut’s books, A Cat’s Cradle and Slaughterhouse Five; I followed that up later with Breakfast of Champions. Surprisingly I didn’t read any science fiction, except the pseudo stuff of Vonnegut. I also read history and biographies.

I am not always a big fan of multi-book series because one always has to read every book to reach the end. The Cotton Malone series is nice because each book resolves itself by the end. I enjoyed the Foundation series by Asimov but never went back and read the other 3 or 4 books in the series.

I have read hundreds of books (well hundreds may be pushing it but the number read is over a hundred!) since getting that Kindle. I rarely read actual physical books. I find that the print is often too small and though I use reading glasses the lighting makes it hard to read physical books. I still have a substantial library but when I read I usually read on the Kindle.

My taste in books hasn’t really changed I still mostly read nonfiction over fiction and mostly adventure fiction books, but I like to throw in a nice novel of a different style now and then. One of things I did do was subscribe to the digital version of the New York Times Book Review and every weekend I pursue it and read the more interesting reviews and often download the novel being reviewed and read it. The NYTimes Book Reviewed has introduced me to many novels that I would normally seek out and read and as a result I feel that I am better off for the experience. I recently started reading the books of John Le Carre. The language and the writing are so refined and though a bit dry the story is so well written that one easily ignores the dryness to get to the end of the book and to the resolution.

I usually have several books going at once but after a while I begin to feel guilty about not finish this or that book so I stop reading the others and concentrate on finishing each book in turn. Often it is hard to move on to a book that I really want to read knowing that there are other books that I really wanted to read, half read and waiting to be finished. Finishing a book gives one a great sense of accomplishment, though if it is a great story or a good biography, it is hard to see the story end or read about the death of a favorite person; I always cry at the end of a biography when the death of the subject person is described. Currently I am reading Ian Kershaw’s To Hell and Back: Europe 1914-1949, which I discovered through the NYTimes Book Review; Robert Heinlein’s The Puppet Masters, in paperback; also in paperback, Isaac Asimov Presents the Great SF Stories (There is a whole series of these books dating from the 1930 through to the 1970s), and on my phone (Kindle for Andriod) Joseph Epstein’s Wind Sprints, Shorter Essays. I am sure that there are other books that I have on the hook that I have started and read several chapters into then put down to pick up later and maybe finish.

And though I read to be entertained I cannot help but also be enlightened. It would not be a good book if one didn’t come away feeling as though they have a better understanding of the world around them!

Burritos and other hazards of driving in Albuquerque

The other morning as I was heading out the door for work I received a traffic alert via a text message. It is a service provided by a local radio station. The alert said that West Bound I40 was closed at Carlisle, the direction I would soon be heading, because of a loose animal. This was around 0640. I thought to myself that by the time I got there, I was going to stop at the store and get milk, the police would have the situation taken care of and while traffic would be slow it would be moving. I stopped at the store and got my milk and by the time I was getting onto the interstate at Tramway and heading west it was just before 0700. As I approached the Louisiana off ramp I noticed, on one of the electronic signs that hang over the interstate giving updates on traffic conditions a message stating, “In celebration of the interstate closure at Carlisle several Albuquerque drives have decided to have a mutli-car pileup to further upset your commute.” Clearly someone was looking for another excuse for being late to work. “Apparently those red brake lights really do mean traffic isn’t moving,” thought the person reading their text messages as they plowed into the back of one of the stopped cars.

Normally I would just slither along with the traffic in order to rubber neck but this particular morning I wasn’t in the mood. I was anxious to get to work in order to check out the cooling capacity of our new refrigerator by putting my newly purchased milk in it, and yes to have a nice cup of coffee with said cold milk. So, rather than sit in a line of slow moving traffic I got off the interstate at Louisiana. Driving down Central Avenue on my way to Yale Boulevard I drove passed the Frontier restaurant and it occurred to me that I had not had one of their breakfast burritos in a very long time. A quick U-turn at the next available left turn bay brought me quickly back to that breakfast burrito! My motto for the day was, “When life hands you lemons, have a breakfast burrito.” Wow, what a morning; first some milk for my coffee and then a delicious burrito for breakfast.

So, where am I going with this discussion anyway? Well, unlike most Albuquerque drivers who seem to be just scurrying around like cockroaches when the light is turned on, in their 2-ton death traps looking for their next accident, I am heading toward telling you just how bad the drivers are in this city.

You see, Albuquerque doesn’t have a traffic problem in the sense that there are too many cars for the carrying capacity of the roads, like for example Los Angles. No, what Albuquerque has is just a boat load of very bad drivers and for some reason they are always trying their best to be in everyone’s way, including their own. To give you some statistics, if you take any 10 drivers on the road at any given instant, 25 of them will be some of the most horrid drivers ever encountered. Now you ask, “How is that possible?”  It is possible because it seems that all of the bad drivers move here from every other place on the planet and then breed more bad drivers. But then you say, “No, that is not what I was asking, I was asking how is that 25 out of 10 drivers are bad? That just doesn’t make sense.” To which I answer, “You are right, it doesn’t make any sense to have that many bad drivers all in one place.” Now you are looking at me with desperate exasperation. “NO, NO, NO!” You yell, “I mean how is it possible to have 250% of all drivers being bad drivers?” Again, I have to answer, “Albuquerque is just unlucky I guess.” I mean New Mexico ranks last in just about every category including drivers. Now you are really irate, so you leave in a major huff, get into your car and drive off and engage in major acts of road rage, including driving headlong into the back grandma’s 1965 Lincoln Continental as she lollygagged down the interstate at 31 miles per hour. Your car never stood a chance and all the impact did to grandma was to knock her dentures out of her mouth; she’s still trying to find them.

Your funeral services would have been next Tuesday but the hearse carrying your coffin slammed into the back of a line of cars stopped on the interstate waiting for the police to round up some animal running loose in traffic with a what appeared to be a huge toothy smile – caused a hell of a mess – cars burning, including the hearse. I managed to get off the interstate at Louisiana and avoid the mess – and that is how I got my breakfast burrito! So, I guess I owe you a big thank you!

Happy Driving Albuquerque!

Brian's Journey - Carpe Diem

Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero. (Seize the day and place no trust in tomorrow.) A phrase from Horace's Odes, from which the overused sub-phrase "Carpe diem" was plucked and made popular by the 1989 movie, "Dead Poet's Society," never ceases to come to mind whenever someone I know passes away. This is especially true when that someone is younger than me.

Less than a week ago my dear brother, Brian passed away from Leukemia. He was only 53 years old. We were not biological brothers, but brothers through my marriage to his sister. Even though I am divorced from his sister, we were still brothers. In fact, I remember a text message that I had received from him in February of 2011, while I was in Oregon. In essence it said, "You and I did not get divorced." It is interesting how simple things like that message become indelibly printed in one's mind. And though that was four years ago I still remember that I was driving from Eugene Oregon to the Coast and had stopped at Triangle Lake to take pictures. It was snowing and the hills surrounding the lake were white and the lake was still and peaceful. It was so quiet and then there was the sound of a text arriving at my phone; a text from Brian reminding me that he and I were still brothers.

The years preceding Brian's death had been years of of turmoil and challenge, including the passing of his father, Bob in 2008. Somehow, though Brian managed to remain upbeat and full of life and living; I suppose each day for him was all about seizing the day. Brian became the de facto "man" of the family Bob Day. He stepped up and cared for his mother and with his sister they became the managers of the family estate. This new role gave him purpose and a further challenge in life.

But, Brian's challenges were not over; life would not become easier. At the age of 51 he was stricken with Acute Myeloid Leukemia - a vicious disease. When I heard the news from his sister it touched me to my core. Here was someone that I knew, my brother, suffering from a disease that for older patients is seldom survived. I was not there during the early period of initial treatments, the chemo-therapy, but via his sister I learned that he fought bravely and was always optimistic. Brian would not go down without a fight. I was honored to be there with him in Seattle as a caregiver while he underwent his post-transplant treatments. Each day was a wonderful experience. We did a lot of things together in Seattle - I was the consummate tourist. The only limitation to our doing more was the perpetual fatigue that seemed to grind on Brian from morning to evening. Despite it all, Brian was always upbeat and feisty - for lack of a better word to describe his daily demeanor! Now, whenever I have a mud pie at Red Robins I will think of Brian - and probably start crying!

Five days before he died his sister sent me a text, "Brian sitting up on edge of bed, a little fuzzy, but watching the game nevertheless. He made it to the game. Day 7 of 4... Amazing." On January 13, in response to my inquiry, she sent "Waning." It was quiet for a day, then early on January 15 came the text - "Brian, my dearest brother and best friend, passed away this morning around 345 am, January 15, 2015."

His obituary reads, in part, "Brian truly lived life to the fullest through simple pleasures; chatting with and helping family and friends, playing and watching sports (especially the Seahawks), and spending time with his beloved dog, Xena, at dog parks in both Richland and Spokane. Brian had an uncanny ability to reach people in positive ways through his extraordinary humor, compassion, and patience."

From his friend, Steve Wilkins, "Just read Lori's "Confessions from a Cousin" Wow! Everyone should have supportive family like that! The last couple weeks, I had a chance to see Brian a couple times at the Spokane Hospice House. With his devoted sister at his side, Brian was still cracking jokes and trying to make the best of a bad situation. It would have been very easy for Brian to play the victim card - but he refused! Would love to go fishing with Brian on a peaceful lake, surrounded by beautiful mountains and fish biting - but I'll have to wait my turn. Rest in peace Brian. Your friends and family will join you in the boat later!"

 One might ask why I include these quotes. Well, for one they are a testament from those who loved him as to his willingness to live life - "Carpe Diem," and two I am also reminded of the remonstrance given by the wise philosopher Solon to the unwise Lydian King Croesus, "Count no man happy until the end is known." The four pieces of wisdom that Solon tried to impart to Croesus, whom did not listen were:

1. Don’t take things for granted
2. Focus on what matters most
3. Stay vigilant and beware of pride
4. Endure to the end

Carpe Diem Brian, Carpe Diem!!


 

Brian's Journey: Goodbye and God Bless, and a missed hug

I don't usually get texts early in the morning - especially at 5 am in the morning. I was lying in bed contemplating getting up when I heard the sound, from my phone that indicates that I had received a text. Even before I eventually read it I knew what it was going to be. It was a text from Brian's sister, Val, informing me that he had passed away at 3:45 AM January 15, 2015. His battle with Acute myeloid leukemia is over and he can now, finally rest. That last day in Seattle, the last time I saw him alive, he was lying on his back in the cancer ward being fed with the minerals that were being leached from his body by the myriad pills he took. As men often do when they part, we exchanged pleasantries and he thanked me for being there to help. I wished him well and told him that I would see him later when he was back home in Spokane. We shook hands and I went home to Albuquerque and my life. 

A few weeks later Brian was back home in Spokane and had even driven down the Tri-Cities area for a job interview. There was hope for life. His sister traveled Spokane for Christmas, they all thought that it might be their last one with their mother, who is suffering from Alzheimer's. Not a week after Val returned home to Santa Fe I received a text from her saying could I come get the dogs and that Brian only had a few days left.  His AML had come back with a vengeance and there was nothing the Doctors could do. That was on January 3. The doctors gave him 4 maybe 5 days, he made it 12 days!! He was a fighter.

Brian spent his last days in a beautiful Hospice in Spokane; the same one in which his father Bob spent his last days. There is a certain bitter sweetness to that, given that Brian was there when we moved Bob to his final home. Spokane Hospice House is an amazing place with incredibly caring nurses. They are angels in disguise. 

I often wonder why men don't hug more. It is a wonderful way to share yourself with another; it is a wonderful way to express that you care. So our last moments together was a last and missed chance for two brothers to hug. It is hard to hold back the tears as I write and think about how much I am going to miss Brian. When I left Seattle there was hope that all would be well and Brian could resume his life - it didn't happen. 

I prefer not to remember Brian as a sick man but as he was in the picture taken in 2006, when we were all in Chicago for a big Day-Family reunion, wearing a glow ring and joking with other members of his family. This was the Brian that was alive and healthy and celebrating life to its fullest. 

REST IN PEACE BRIAN JOHN DAY August 24, 1961 - January 15, 2015

Brian's Journey, A last day in Seattle

August 3, 2014; A last day in Seattle

This morning, like most of my mornings began before 0500. Brian is asleep across the bed and I am waiting for it to be closer to 0600, so I can go get my morning coffee. This morning I took a shower to remove the dampness. The humidity has increased over the last several days.

The trek up the hill to the coffee shop was uneventful. The young black couple are sleeping on the porch of the Seattle Vineyards Christian House.

Because it is 0600 before the Starbucks opens there is a wider array of people out and about. I was the first customer this morning but soon other followed. The location of this Starbucks, a block from the University attracts numerous odd characters, from the man that sits at the base of the light pole just outside the door on the corner, with a sign that says, "Need Food," though I saw him yesterday morning give a young man a credit card with which to buy him a cup of coffee, to the scraggly and odoriferous youths with skate boards milling up and down the streets. They seem to travel in packs, like wild dogs, or maybe even feral cats. One wonders what it is about University environments that attracts these young, and not so young, vagabonds. Here in this area of Seattle it can't be the cheap housing, because such does not exist. Were they once students that somehow managed to never finish school and never leave the city? Are they current students, poor as students are, just hanging out in Seattle for the summer? Bigger cities do attract a wide range of transients that flock in during certain times of the year. Some stay, trapped by their poverty but others manage to escape to other cities.

There are also the customers that come in and buy their morning drinks then head off on their business. There young girls dressed in morning hair and whatever turned up from the floor, that wander in with sleep still in their eyes.

As I arrived at the Starbucks, there was ,standing on the edge of the sidewalk an anxious looking young man with what looked like knife scars on his left cheek. He was taking a picture with his cell phone of something. Later, after I had sat down to read and drink my coffee I noticed that he would walk out into the street and look down the hill, as though waiting for someone, someone that was late, to arrive. He seemed a bit agitated, not as in angry but as in nervous. Soon, a young black kid on a bike, with the seat set low so that his knees were above the handle bars arrived. What transpired appeared to be some kind of drug deal. Not being my business or concern I refocused on my reading. Later the young black kid on the bike came in the door and leaned his bike against one of tables and commented, "Is was already getting hot." He disappeared toward what I assumed was the counter to order a morning drink. He had still not returned to get his bike and leave 15 or so minutes later, which I thought odd, so I assumed he had sat down to enjoy his morning drink.  By 7 am I was ready to leave so I put my trash into the trash container and walked to the counter to order another coffee to go. No kid was to be seen. Apparently he had come to use the bathroom, for whatever purpose and and had been in there some time.

As if to emphasize the seediness of this particular Starbucks, which rather seems genuinely unwarranted, there is a spiral of flies in perpetual motion as you enter the door. You have to bat them out of your face and keep your mouth closed, lest you swallow a couple. They don't seem to pester the customers at their tables, but occasionally one needs to be swatted away when ordering at the register.

The young black couple were gone by the time I walked by the charity house. Yesterday morning, when I came up the hill, the girl had gone down the alley to use the "facilities" and was returning to her porch bed when I walked by. She seemed pleasant enough and with an embarrassed smile she said good morning to me - alley bathrooms are not ideal places for young ladies.

Brian's Journey,

July 30, 2014

I have a few minutes before I need to get breakfast made for Brian and get him up and moving. He was up for a few minutes earlier, leg cramps, and is now sleeping (or dozing) in the recliner.

It is a muggy morning, not hot yet, just clingy damp. I took a shower again this morning to help. I felt better this morning when I woke. My throat is still a bit scratchy, probably a result of sleeping with my mouth open on my back on the couch. But, as always, I will live and it is only a minor nuisance not worth even the short sentence that I spent informing you.

As usual, I went up the hill, up 42nd street, to Starbucks on University Way, and had a coffee and pound cake and read for a while. It was cooler this morning there so I was better able to get comfortable and it was out of the apartment, which even now is a bit stuffy. I have the screen door open and a fan blowing in some air, but it is directed at Brian. As a minor observation one is struck by the presence of Seagulls. They compete with the local flocks of black birds for scraps of food on the streets and their shrieks can be heard echoing from above and along the canyons of building walls. It is not surprising though that they are here. Seattle clings to the east side of Puget Sound, which is in turn connected to the Pacific Ocean. On Seattle's east side are a number of lakes, which are just fingers of Puget Sound.

We went up to Everett last night for dinner. Brian has some gift cards for Applebee's that people have sent him. So we went to Applebee's for dinner. The nearest, or at least easiest to get to was in Everett 30 minutes north of here on Possession Sound. It is across from Widbey Island. It was late so we didn't go down to the water.

Maybe today we will get out and do something downtown. I still want to go to the Space Needle, but it really depends on how Brian is feeling. Yesterday we just came back to the apartment and sweltered in the humidity. We met the new Transplant House ambassador last evening before going to dinner.

Well, I need to make breakfast for Brian.

Brian's Journey, A Seattle Morning

July 29, 2014: A Seattle Morning

This morning I was up before 0500. Had a restless night on the couch. Brian doesn't go to bed until late. I usually fall asleep sometime between 2230 and 2300. I wake up several times during the night. This morning I can feel the humidity and the latent heat. Things feel clingy. I had to take a shower this morning and shave - it helped.

As usual I went up the hill to Starbucks to get a coffee and to read, but this morning I did not stay long. I did not feel very comfortable - I felt sticky and grimy so I read for a few minutes while I finished my pound cake then left. There was a group of young vagrants males, unshaven and in dirty worn clothes hanging out in the alcove of a shop just down a little from the Starbucks, which is on the corner of 42nd and University Way. They were boisterously talking and one of them was even smoking a pot pipe. Interestingly I wasn't too nervous about walking past them. They seemed harmless enough and more interested in there verbal one-ups-man-ship conversation than in me. They greeted me and I said hello back as I passed.

The leafy bushes along the apartment walls crowd out onto the broken and jumbled sidewalk leaving little room between them and the muddy-wet gutter, full of trash: odd for a city like Seattle to have some much trash along its sidewalks. I have to duck and lean as I pass so as not to brush into them. If they are wet from rain or morning dew it could lead to a good soaking. Beneath the bushes, in their shadow and protection from the sun are mats of green moss growing onto and into the porous concrete. This neighborhood, near the University is a quiet but shabby neighborhood made up of not-so-cheap apartment buildings. There is construction on the roads everywhere.

A homeless pair sleeps on the porch of a charity house, a couple of black kids, probably 18 or older but still kids, a boy and a girl. They are there most morning this early. I have the urge but not the desire to give them some money. The boy is often awake as I walk by and we greet each other with "good mornings." I continue on, coffee in hand and purse bag swaying at my side.