Tad's Life

As with most young American males his age, Jonathan loves to play on his PS/2 and the computer. We do have power outages occasionally, so I know that he and his buddies are capable of doing other things. Moreover, our son comes from a family of readers. He didn't start quite as early in life as his sisters, but he certainly is in full swing at this stage.

I was reminded of this when I went into the bathroom this morning. There on top of all the other books and magazines and family newsletters and all the rest was Jack London's White Fang. Just a few nights ago, Jonathan had complained that he didn't have a good book. He had read everything that there was, he claimed. So he and I went looking. My first attempt was a failure. I found an Isaac Asimov robot book on the shelf, Caves of Steel. It's one of my favorites and was the first sci-fi book that Jane ever read. (At age 21, I think she said. I corrupted her!) I even read the first chapter out loud to him at bed time one night. But, no. It was a little too "adult" for him with confusing words and concepts and vagueness that you have to be patient with. Ah, well. I'll get him hooked with classic sci-fi eventually!

Of course, after enjoying a chapter of an old favorite, you can imagine what I read this week! It's a great little mystery / puzzle kind of book. The science part is horribly dated 50 years later, but because the book is an old friend, I just smile and ignore that part.

So, since Jonathan didn't really appreciate Elijah and Daneel and the C / Fe culture stuff, the next day he and I went looking for another book. We found Jack London and also Last of the Mohicans on our shelves way in the back under the loft. He settled on the dog story.

He's been working on that this week, but then last night we got mail. There was a package from Grandpa Hampton. My father has been supplying my son for the last few months with another genre of literature, a kind of book that has captured his imagination. He devours them: Spiderman comic books. Someone is reissuing the very first ones from the early sixties. They are great. (OK. I've been devouring them, too. But I do wait my turn.) Under that Jack London classic is one of the previously sent issues. I couldn't find the new ones. Jonathan took them to school with him this morning. I hope he doesn't try to read them during English. Mrs. Kanavel might not quite see them as a valid alternative to her lesson!

Actually, over supper last night, before Vivat came with the new mail, we were enjoying another type of literature. Jonathan had been to the school library and brought home a book that advertised itself as a perfect way to torture ones sister. Or parents. They were right.

"Why did the baseball player take his bat to the library? ... His teacher told him to hit the books."

We had fun with many more like that, groaning our way through our tacos.

Jane, of course, is our star reader. Lately she's been working her way back through a number of old favorites. I went to photograph one of those, but she appears to have taken them back to the library at school to get more! I know I've seen a number of Dick Francis mysteries lying about. She's introduced Gretchen to them. He's the British author who was a jockey as a young man and writes a lot of stories involving steeple jumping and horse racing.