Midwest Memo
Reading material
by Alan Shultz

I'll always remember the regular trips my mom took my sister and me on to the library. The library was our refuge from any woes, a quiet place with the promise of adventure or reflection or a good laugh.

Our library started out as an independent, not part of a library system, and it was shaped in the form of a mini-castle. There were matching turrets on either end made of rough stone. When you pulled up in front of the library you knew right away you were not in an ordinary setting. Alfred Hitchcock, Frank Lloyd Wright, even the fictional Harry Potter, they all would have loved the place, each for a different reason.

My parents were both avid readers. My mom read books, my dad read newspapers and magazines. Dad would bring home the paper at the end of the workday. He'd be done reading, but he left it out for my sister and me.

I guess I remember the reading times in our household as happy times. We were together, engaged in a manner, yet off in our own little worlds of interest.

I don't read like I used to, and I miss it.

I buy books, a lot.

I'll hear a review of a book on the radio and there I am in traffic scribbling down the name, the author. "A must have," I'll say to myself and then trot off to track the book down, buy it and then let it sit on the shelf or coffee table or bookcase.

Several summers back I heard about an author who had written only one book, "a beautiful book" the reviewer said. The book, long forgotten, inspired a documentary of one fan's search for the author. My son Jeff and I went to see the documentary. It was terrific.

Jeff later went on to buy me the book - a 600 pager, no less. I got into the first four pages and couldn't go on. Jeff tried to read it, my son-in-law Jake tried, none of us could read the thing.

That book will be part of my probate estate.

It's funny how certain printed material commands more respect than others.

Newspapers, for the most part, need to be read, and tossed. The one you're holding is no exception. It's great when newspapers get a second chance at something - recycling, paper mache, package stuffing all come to mind. I remember reading how some hog farmer used newspaper for... and now I can't remember for the life of me what. I know someone who manufactures insulation from newspaper. A lot of respect for one copy of a newspaper - no, not much. Too common.

Magazines, on an individual level, get more reuse than newspapers. I save magazines. I feel guilty just sending them off in the trash. I tend to give my magazines away. My aunt was always sending us home from her house with

magazines. I know plenty

of friends and relatives who trade magazines, pass them along when they are done. And then, think about waiting rooms. Those places give magazines a second life and then some. Not long ago I read an interesting article in a magazine in some waiting room. The article, something about the real estate market, became less interesting to me when I realized the magazine was eight years old.

Paperback books are funny. I don't have as much trouble parting with them as some magazines. I've got a favorite laundry room with a reading shelf and I just leave behind any paperback there that I need to part with.

But hardcover books - they're tough, no matter what the condition, no matter what the subject matter. I can't toss a hardcover book, it just doesn't seem right. So I pile them, and shelve them and dust them. Many I've chosen, fewer, I've read. I'll loan them out - but kind of keep track of them when they are away.

Maybe it's something deep from my childhood. Maybe it's just part of when life was simpler and a peaceful quiet came over the household as the pages were quietly turned.