As a child my father often used to compare me to Holden Caulfield, the protagonist in the J.D Salinger book The Catcher In The Rye. In the book Holden Caulfield was given to imaginative speech,and shall we say, tall tales. On one occasion, when I was 6 years old, I remember going on a long walk with my father. We often took ridiculously long walks, which I both enjoyed, but found exhausting at the same time. It was Autumn, and the leaves were falling. At one point in our walk we came upon two Nuns and a class of grade school children.
As we grew closer to the group, I let go of my fathers hand, and collapsed on the cement. The Nuns and the children gathered around, and one of the Sisters Asked me, "Little boy, what is wrong? Are you hurt?".
I looked up at her,massaging my temples with both hands, and replied, " My electronic brain is not functioning properly." The children burst into hysterics, laughing uncontrollably.
Did he ever actually read that book? I would find that surprising. I'm glad to see another Spartacus post. As I always like to declare during sneezing sessions, "YEAH! Keep 'em comin,' keep 'em comin!"
ReplyDeleteI was told that my mother and he were reading the Catcher In The Rye the night I was born.
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