I will not participate in having this go further. Go here for the background.
“I was raised by my mother. She never talked much about my dad, but she did tell me he died in a car crash when I was a baby. Then a couple of years ago, she got sick, and last year she died. A stroke.”
Christie to Max, page 123 from A Good Year by Peter Mayle.
Enlighten much, anybody?
Ok, perhaps a poor choice. Two others I’m working through:
Crawling: a father’s first year, Elisha Cooper.
It’s a warm spring evening. We walk up the stairs into the cafe, which is bustling and familiar and glowing. Waiters glide past, smells slide past. The m’aitre d’ recognizes or doesn’t recognize us again.
No, that didn’t work for me either. One more. How about Why I hate Canadians by Will Ferguson?
No. The government did not concede defeat and remove enfranchisement from the Indian Act until 1985. Ancient history, that. In 1990, Desmond Tutu, the Archbisphop of Cape Town and a leading figure in the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa, saw clear parallels between the homelands of his nation and the reserves of ours.
There. Done.
Not nearly as The Fountainhead, Revolution in the head, or even Delizia: The Epic History of the Italians and Their Food.
I tried to follow this one back a bit, but got lost at a Romanian blog, at which I found this interesting little graphic:
I lost the trail there. Don’t speak Romanian,but I have learned that the word “blog” is the same as in English.
See, not a waste of time after all.