When I First Wanted To Be A

A Bee Rose Up From A Sun-filled Paper Cup, Off To Make Slum Honey From Some Diet Root Beer It Had Found Inside.

In My Case, Adulthood Itself Was Not An Advance, Although It Was A Useful Waymark.

Perforation! Shout It Out! The Deliberate Punctuated Weakening Of Paper And Cardboard So That It Will Tear Along An Intended Path, Leaving A Row Of Fine-haired Pills Or Tuftlets On Each New Edge! It Is A Staggering Conception, Showing An Age-transforming Feel For The Unique Properties Of Pulped Wood Fiber.

Maybe The Kindle Was The Bowflex Of Bookishness: Something Expensive That, When You Commit To It, Forces You To Do More Of Whatever It Is You Think You Should Be Doing More Of.

True, The Name Of The Product Wasn't So Great. Kindle? It Was Cute And Sinister At The Same Time - Worse Than Edsel, Or Probe, Or Microsoft's Bob. But One Forgives A Bad Name. One Even Comes To Be Fond Of A Bad Name, If The Product Itself Is Delightful.