Readings

Read Michael Lewis's piece on Iceland in Vanity Fair.  It's interesting, funny, but for the first time I see Lewis jaded at his prodigious talent for writing.  A bon mot here, a taut one-liner there, it all just rolls off him as if he's seen it all before.  And, in some sense, he has.  It may be time for him to push himself beyond the competitive realms of finance and sports into some new domain. I'd love to read it.

Picked up some Salinger I had never heard of in Larchmont:  "Raise High the Roofbeams..." I was initially unconvinced but now am getting there.  And now off to it!