WHAT?!

That’s the response I get when I am asked why I haven’t read many classic books. Shakespeare, Chaucer (yes but in HS and I was certainly not paying attention) Lord of the Flies, To Kill a Mockingbird, Catcher, 1984, Great Gatsby, and so on.

I read, not as much as I should. But because I don’t blow through books as much, I only read things I’m fascinated in. Bio’s mostly. It’s always been that way. Bukowski, probably too much of him. But like my music ingestion, I like to go chronologically. Book 1 to the last one. I haven’t gotten to 3 major Bukowski books, among most of his poetry, collections of short stories released during his life and compilations of things released afterwards. I enjoy immersing myself into things like that without straying. Although after “Women” I have yet to pick another up. Now it’s a Mr. Rogers bio. It’s warm now so I’ve been reading much less. Doing other things, side work etc.

But just because I haven’t read a classic, doesn’t mean I’m any less learned than anyone else. I was out playing music, recording, learning about someone else, editing or filming a wedding, fixing a car up or god knows what else. I am not sorry I haven’t YET read a 150 yr old book. I haven’t touched Hemingway YET. People don’t understand simply because i haven’t at the age of 27, that I never will. I was most likely too busy playing guitar or drums or watching others do it. I don’t know. I am not condemning anyone, but don’t condemn me. I’ve learned to switch from responding with, “No I haven’t” to, “Not yet.” I haven’t gotten to Hemingway yet. YET. Christ.

Let me live my life how I wish.