What a bunch of phonies.

Every so often, Melissa's daughter asks me, "Mrs. Rice, have you ever read [insert the title of something regarded as a literary classic]?"

Believe it or not, my answer is usually, "No."

I'm sure she thinks this is highly suspicious. Was I not an English major in college? Am I not a writer? Well, yes...and yes. And for the past few years, I've been inclined to feel a bit shamefaced about my responses. But today, I figured it out. (Yes, sometimes it takes years.)

It's not that I am a slacker for having missed these titles--although "missed" may not be the appropriate word here. It's just that there are so many volumes from which to choose. I suppose I could force myself to read them now, but I don't think so. There's something about reading those works outside of an academic setting.... It rings sort of hollow for me. And makes me nostalgic and a little melancholy, too.

Everyone has missed some great literary excursion. It's nearly impossible to read them all. In fact, just last year I told Pete he should read The Sound and the Fury. I think he may have finally forgiven me. Although I'm not sure. Seriously, he was pissed. Seriously.

But it's good that we all have different tastes and also that there is enough good writing out there to suit those varied tastes.

And so we mark the passing of J.D. Salinger. I read The Catcher in the Rye when I was about 12 years old and still loved it when it was time to read it in high school English. Thanks, Mr. Salinger. I say you were entitled to live out your days however you damned well wanted to. Rest in peace.