Bradbury in the late 1970s

Long After Midnight by Ray Bradbury

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
Mr. Bradbury's words do not shine as cleverly as they seem to in his earlier collections, but there are some very worthwhile stories included. Also, he handles topics outside his usual forte, like gay couples coming out to their families, and Hemingway's pet parrot. What made it all smiles for me though was the very scary story titled The October Game - super scary, wicked scary, like I like them, and isn't that really what it's all about?



"By the sound of the children you knew the calendar day. By their screams you knew what evening it was. You knew it was very late in the year." --from The October Game


View all my reviews.

Can't Forget That I Can't Remember What

The Seven Sins of Memory: How the Mind Forgets and Remembers by Daniel L. Schacter

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
Well, it turns out to be mostly common sense, but not quite all of it. I am enough of a nerd to love knowing about the how and why of my sometimes spotty, sometimes very vivid memory. My grandmother's battle with Alzheimer's made it more interesting also. The author tended to ramble on a bit, so the book doesn't exactly read itself, but I would still recommend it if you have a tolerance for psychology.


View all my reviews.

Rainbows & Happiness

December brought brisk weather and rainbows, the holy days, and my dad took his own life, with a gun. Dealing with suicide aftermath takes focus, hence my dearth of posts. I only knew him about 2.5 years, but we packed a lot in, 100-mile bike rides, delicious lunches, holidays, truly great times and sharings. I consider death my good personal friend, always up and to the left, so the whole deal doesn't sound particularly sad to me, although that remains the most common comment. Plus, he left a note that gave specific instructions to not mourn him. Long live Dad! Long live Hunter!

Ripping ride Sunday. Rockridge BART to Skyline Boulevard, down Redwood Road, up Pinehurst (ouch, been awhile), down Shepard Canyon. Hell to the yes I love cycling - fly high, hit hard.