2 March 2008
Sunday
Clifton
My nephew has been persuaded to join the world of blogging. It’s a silent sort of place for the most part. I’ve got a few readers but I post irregularly and it’s difficult to pigeonhole me. Mr. Bud (my nephew) will face some of the same problems although I suspect, much to my dismay, that he’s a better or, at least, more with-it writer so he may have a larger audience. If he includes a photo, that’s sure to happen; in fact, I just might cop one of his to use for myself. The age thing can be explained.
He’s just headed back to Holland to continue some sort of libertine semester off thing that he’s organised. Here on Pudding Island he was mostly ill and confined to his bed but managed to stagger out occasionally, belt down a few drinks and bed some likely wench, then stagger back to his bed where he passed the time reading an impressively wide array of literature. And, in this case, I mean it, the guy really does read widely. I was delighted to give him something by Italo Calvino, something by Bruce Chatwin and, for pure fun, something by Bill Bryson. He’ll suck these things up and come out, in just a few days, wanting more. Wow! It is cool to see someone’s reading appetites grow.
Hey, Mr. Bud, for a neat serving of something entirely different, may I suggest Neal Stephenson? I won’t describe it, just go out, buy something by him and enjoy!
