When I was about 10 years old I discovered while rummaging through the garage an old crate. Inside this crate were several old sci-fi novels. What I didn’t know at the time was that this crate was always meant to be mine. My uncle Mickey had moved away when I was much younger and had left behind his novel collection with the intent that I get them when I was older and could appreciate them.
The first novel I ever read was in that crate, “Han Solo at Star’s End.” Soon I would be reading Heinlein, Niven and Jose Farmer.
I read everything in that crate. Whenever my family would go up into the Blue Mountains so that my dad could manage the coffee plantation he owned up there, I would take several of the books with me.
It was escapism, pure and simple; it allowed me to take my mind off the fact that I spent every summer and Christmas holiday in a cabin in the mountains, no friends, no phones and no life.
So this is your fault Uncle Mickey. Even though you weren’t there to give me that crate of books in person, you have still left a profound impact on my life. I read to escape and now I write to return the favor.
Love it! You're doing a great job babe! : D
ReplyDeleteUncle Mickey did a wonderful thing!
ReplyDeleteKeep up the posts Lawson, you're doing great! I just started my first blog. I think you can just click on my name? Idk, anyway, M. Dominic is right, your Uncle Mickey unknowingly did something awesome and incredibly influential. :D Can't wait for your next post.
ReplyDeleteThis post is full of fantastic. WTG!
ReplyDeleteEvery now and then I come back to this post just to reread it. Just thought you should know. :-D
ReplyDelete