 I watched a newscast recently talking about how reading books could help you live longer. Finally! I was expecting it to tell me I was more likely to gain a few pounds be sitting around reading. Instead, it was all about the benefits. I love to read. When I was young, we had a piano in our house. I grew up thinking I needed to have a piano in my own house until I realized I didn't play the piano. I have bookshelves in my house instead. It is simply a matter of doing what you love and surrounding yourself with that love. I have friends who will only read a book once. I can understand that, but sometimes it is worth visiting an old friend, right? Even just reading the title on the shelf can bring back memories much like a photograph. I know your secrets and I won't tell. I read you when I was having a hard time win my life. You made me laugh. You made me stronger. How could I give that away? I remember an old Twilight Zone episode where a serious reader wishes that no one was around to bother him so he could read in peace. He wakes up the next day as the last person on earth. As he lines up all the books he wants to read, he ends up breaking his glasses rendering him unable to read.... Everything in moderation, I guess. Still, a day to myself with a good book sure seems promising. Comments are closed.
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