I Give Up

I give up on Book Clubs.

I've been in two formal book clubs in my life. One was with a bunch of fellows. I think we were looking for a way to get together and drink during the spring, when there were no football games to watch. It didn't go well. Our first book was promoted by an MFA graduate, the Corrections by Jonathan Franzen. Sorry, I didn't like it. When I got to the point where the father is playing with his own poop on the ship I stopped. Our discussion of it was just about as insightful and invigorating as that part of the book. The second book that the club was going to read was the shank in the already failing heart of the group. It was a text book on the workings of the brain. No one read it. Not even the guy who recommended it. I don't think we made it to a third meeting.

My second book club pittled out even faster. I read the one book that the other person promoted. When it came time for me to suggest a book, my partner rejected it out of hand. Now, they're waiting around for the next book. Sorry, book clubbers, this is not a buffet where we get to pick and choose. Book club, finis.

Dick's attendance in future book clubs also finis.