There are times when I want to post something of a personal nature, but then I think twice about it. Because when you've got nothing nice to say, wait until you're 80 years old and publish a tell-all memoir like Gore Vidal has. Speaking of which, I have been reading "Palimpsest" and it's been pretty interesting reading about the author's life during the 40s and 50s. If there was any time in the world to be a noted author, I guess that's when it would be the right time. There's a decline in that sort of thing now (or has disappeared altogether.) I have more on this subject but will stretch it out in future posts.

Anyway, there are no bookstores in Astoria. I guess it has something to do with people that might want to read, learn something and get out of Astoria. Who knows. But I find it odd. So yesterday as I walked up Broadway, I did find a rather small bookstore. I walked in and there seemed to be no order to it. I looked around and, after a heavy breakfast before walking in, I was feeling pretty upset and could not wonder around as much as I wanted to. But I did see a hardcover version of Renault's "The Mask of Apollo." Used. I'm sure I've got a paperback of it somewhere at my other home. But whether I read it in its entirely or not is fuzzy. I've got several of her books most having Alexander The Great as her subject (have I actually read them??). Anyway, I paid for it and left the store. It was only $4.

Today while walking outside to get lunch, I found Hermann Hesse's "Magister Ludi - The Glass Bead Game." sold by an individual on the street for $2.

Who needs Borders?