Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Ever have a book which you genuinely dislike, yet you still feel compelled not only to read it but to reread it?  My personal gremlin is Jeff Shaara’s The Last Full Measure.  It continues to bother the hell out of me (whatever the arrangements might have been) that he lifted the entire concept – story, style, language, and all – straight off his father; the book’s way too long-winded; and if I had a quarter for every time he mentions “the screams of the wounded”, I’d be a very rich man.

And yet, even though I’ve already read it four or five times, I tossed the damned thing into my bags when I went away on my recent trip, I’m now to the point where Grant is just investing Petersburg, and I know for a certainty that I’m going to feel compelled to finish it yet again.

I believe psychiatry has a term for this kind of behavior.

At least I’ve reached the point of familiarity where I can skim over great chunks without any sense of guilt or loss, but still……

Anyhoo, the good news is that I will be seeing my brother on my upcoming hols and he is promising to bring along a fist-full of Ian Fleming’s 007 novels.  I’ve never read any of them (although I heard a portion of Dr. No on tape years and years ago), and am quite looking forward to trying them out.

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