from the diary: “Tuesday 9/6/88
“Was reading some of the introduction (which is interminable) to Boswell’s London journal. The lad was 22 when he wrote the journal in 1762-3. A page was pictured of his handwriting and, my! – but it’s incredibly legible, something one can say for few people of any age. Aren’t I 22 & ain’t I gonna write a London journal? Oh, yeah, I think [Prof] Sherak wants us to keep a journal – I suppose that means he wants us to turn it in for his perusal. Yuck, what a drag. That’ll sure sap my energy for my own journal and gak but I hate sanitizing my thoughts for old fuddy duddies let alone letting somebody run his rough old eyes over perceptions that are still raw & personal. In 20 years I’m sure I won’t/wouldn’t give a fine fling who plowed his weary eyes down the fields of my suspect prose, but the present is not the time to consider the present.”
This was one of the books that had been assigned by the English teacher, an SRJC professor, whose class I was taking in London.
“I’m taking textbooks aboard the plane with me – Boswell, Virginia Woolf’s Mrs Dalloway & Small Is Beautiful, think I’ll leave the Stephen King books David brought over here at home. Just don’t have room! And if I do get to reading I might as well get a jump on studying I don’t want to do anyway.”