|Part of my backlog of books to read in my basement library|
Now there is a blog title to grab your attention.
I am passionate about a lot of things. Politics, friends, movies, music, genealogy research, photography, gardening, food and……reading.
Of course I am a passionate lover but this isn't the forum to go into that passion. Co-workers, friends, family and hubby reads this blog….occasionally and I wouldn't want to embarrass them (or myself) with a written account of my naked passion in that arena, maybe someday folks but not today.
What I'm writing about today folks is my passion for reading. I believe I've written about this subject before but I feel the urge to write about it again.
I first began reading back in the Fifties. "Force read" I call it since it was the Dick and Jane books with "see Spot (their dog) run." I remember even at that early age "WTF?" Of course the acronym "WTF" didn't exist then (I take literary license) but I knew even then that THIS wasn't the reading I was destined for.
So while I whiled away my time in boredom at the back of my elementary school class, I noticed a row of orange book binder books on the shelf behind me. Up until that time the only other reading I had done was the Weekly Reader, which, if I remember correctly was a "Weakly Reader." No meat, not much substance. "WTF?"
|The "Weakly" Reader during my time - early 1950's|
|A "Little Orange Book" - I couldn't find one for Ben Franklin on the Internet but it looked like this - I think I also read this one - I read them all!|
My sixth grade classroom where I began serious reading. I sat in the back but on the day this photo was taken I was at home, quarantined with both of my brothers, one of whom had scarletina fever. Thus a very historical photo was lost without me in it.
Eventually I read all the biographies including Alexander Hamilton, Lewis and Clark and including even a book on their Indian guide Sacagawea.
|"Take that next bend and that's the Northwest Territories"|
|The Downingtown Public Library|
When I first entered the library I was almost overcome by the welcoming old musty smell of the thousands of books that line their walls to the ceiling.
I got my library card and began reading in ernest. Oh those were the days. Whole new exotic worlds were opened to me.
This was back in 1951 folks, when I was a mere slip of a lad of ten years old.