[distant.star]

First, I don't own a single ebook, at least not until the Kindle arrives in a couple of weeks.

I suppose, when you've lost as many books as I have, the parting is not such sweet sorrow anymore. These days I try to keep the holdings to a minimum so I periodically give them to a used book store. Any remorse is mitigated by telling the store owners to donate gains from my books to the tutoring program they run for children. They're good folks, and they're helping to create more people who like to read and appreciate the power of books.

There are only three books I have that carry real meaning. The first is "The Art of Clear Thinking" by Rudolf Flesch. Sometimes I think that book is responsible for most of the success I've had in life since I read it when I was a teen.

"The Outsider" by Colin Wilson hit me like a sledge hammer in a college "Alienation Literature" course. I still look at the margin notes I made those many years ago and smile, often in embarrassment. It's in rather poor shape these days, but the memories and the importance are immeasurable.

Finally, I have a first edition of Robert Pirsig's "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" I purchased April 1, 1974 in a book shop in the Cherry Hill Mall in Cherry Hill, NJ -- complete with intact cash register receipt. Also, there is a note he sent me in response to my asking if he would be publishing another book soon. His response?

"I'm working on a second book but it will be a long time before it gets out."

By "long time," I hardly imagined he meant 17 years!