Reading Rant

I recently received an iPad from my lovely wife, and probably the coolest thing about it so far has been my discovery of the local library's eBook collection. Free books to download to my Kindle app. This is simultaneously awesome and tragic.

I am a compulsive reader. I will go two months without reading anything longer than a tweet, then consume three novels in a week. I don't sleep while on a reading binge. I ignore my family. My hygiene suffers. I eventually have to wean myself with Sports Illustrated and People magazine.

My recent reading list is causing more problems than just lost sleep, though. To wit: Cormac McCarthy's The Crossing, Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential, Little House in the Big Woods, Little House on the Prairie (in process, one chapter a night), and Steinbeck's Travels with Charley (also in process). Lots of open spaces. Adventures. Building things with bare hands. Making one's own way in a new land. Traveling. Trusting fate and a gun. Rugged individualism.

I'm not one of those people who see literature as an escape. Reading about these things does not make sitting in an office staring at a computer more bearable. It makes me want to hit the road. See America. Live off the land and the kindness of strangers.

Perhaps the upcoming trek to Colorado will appease my wanderlust, but I'm not sure that four kids in a minivan for 12 hours is really going to make me feel like Pa Ingalls. Maybe I need to stick to Jim Collins books instead.