Sunday, December 25, 2005

Book 50. The Last Juror. John Grisham. 2004.
Bought it yesterday around dark, finished it this morning.
Tonight I'll wrap it and tomorrow give it to my brother. So I bettter post-date this entry. - Didn't work as planned,
has tomorrow's date but still posted.
It's a grisham: southern town, blood feuds, a stranger comes and starts writing down old untold secrets, and bullets fly.

Where I grew up, it's suburbs for a mile, with a few patches of woods. To the south, there's the railroad tracks and the highway and what's now a park and used to be the estate of one of the duponts, and then the high school. To the north, there's a strip mall shopping center. What used to be Cutsler's pharmacy is a comic book shop. We'd go to Cutsler's after church and buy the New York Times and I'd get a nickle to spend on candy - lemonheads or a reeses cup usually. A grocery store - it was an A&P,, then an Acme, now it's something else, a superfresh or some such - I was able to get brown rice sushi there yesterday, so it's gotten a little more upscale, and the restaurant, Culinaria, culinaria, is suitably yuppy - I keep meaning to mention it to Waddling Thunder . The kosher bakery that was my first job is gone, and the local bagel shop is a starbucks now, although there's a real coffee shop too, brew ha ha. Anyway, my mom now lives in a condo around the corner, and there's a used book store.
It's where I bought the Neil Gaiman William Gibson that was book #2 this year. I stopped in to start my christmas shopping and as usual went home with an armload, mostly johnson/kennedy stuff, but I wasn't going to pass up a Grisham.

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