Butchblog

From the moment I first discovered I could read the “Dick and Jane” books my mother had previously read to me, by myself, I was in love with reading and books. And when Mom then took me to our local Philadelphia Public Library, I was hooked for good. I progressed from children’s books to “The Hardy Boys” to biographies and eventually on to the world of adult non-fiction and novels. It was the escape that pulled me in—discovered that I was not limited to my little corner of the universe. And, I simply loved the whole notion of story—the intrigue, the conflicts, the emotional whirlwind of a good tale well told. My sister and brother were also avid readers. We’d walk together to the library after school and stay there till it was time to rush home for dinner.

            These days when I go to the local library (a good one), I rarely see older kids in there, definitely not teenagers. There are story-telling sessions for the preschoolers, which is very cool, but I don’t see kids searching the shelves on their own, looking for that next exciting read. I’m not naive, nor am I a Luddite; I do understand the larger scope of information and entertainment available to kids these days, especially social media sites. Frankly, I wish those sites didn’t exist. I see little positive benefit from hours spent scrolling on Tik-Tok, or wherever. The content is mostly banal or sensational—a waste of time and brain power. And if it brings a positive jolt to the user, which I assume it must, that jolt is not one of  joy or contentment or understanding. It’s titillation only. And, in my observation, each year this absorption in reels becomes more insidious. I know, blah, blah, blah. Shut up old man and go read your boring old books. And I will. There are still a lot of us shaky old readers out there.

            Books keep getting published, lots of them every year. Somebody is still reading. Here in our little town we have an active book club where we have insightful and enjoyable discussions of all sort of good (and not so good) reads. My wife and I each always have at least one book going. At the same time we also scroll through the news sites and Facebook and listen to podcasts. And, we watch a lot of television, maybe too much. But for me, I always come back to a book before bed. Though admittedly, it’s often now an electronic (Kindle) version. I’m no purist. Still, I sometimes wonder how much longer this whole world of books and reading will last. Ask your friends, ask your kids, how much or if they read. If you’re a reader yourself (as I assume most of the people who read this blog are), you’ll likely be surprised by the answers you get. When I was teaching community college writing classes, at the start of each section I would ask the students: What was the last book you read? Without exaggeration, 95% of them would either name a book they were forced to read in high school, or tell me they couldn’t remember any book they’d read and possibly had never read one at all. When I asked why they didn’t read, the answers ranged from—”It’s a waste of time” to “It makes my head hurt.” Made mine hurt too.

            Maybe the lesson here is, if you want to become a writer of books, make sure you also have a day job. Wanta make money, become an influencer—whatever that is. And if you still love and read books, you’re my friend. I’m always going to be a reader and writer. A.I. be damned.  I’ll go down fighting.