read, read, read.

By reading emmet

I am shooting for July 4.
By then (I hope) I can catch up with the frightening pile of magazines now piled on my queen-size bed. It is the annual byproduct of my “Mooching across America Tour” in which I hide from winter’s terrible winds by visiting friends in Norton, Charleston, Asheville and Spring Hill.
Many have pools.
But when I come home, as I eventually must, The Camden Post Office has a huge pile of mail (mostly bills) and two months of magazines.
I am much too guilty to simply throw them all out and start all over again. Supposed I missed something great? I will start with the most daunting, that pile of New Yorkers. I have trouble keeping up with the NY in the best of times. I always check Talk of the Town, then the cartoons (worth the subscription price) and the movie reviews. But the 18-page report on revolution in the Weimar Republic is too much for my feeble brain.
I will skip Letter from Libya in the April 8 issue, too depressing. But I shall save “The Spy Who Said Too Much” about a CIA agent who ended up in jail in the April 1 issue, with the hilarious injured Yankees cover. The March 18 issue has a story on transgenders and the Bolshoi ballet. Skip. Hip-hop fashion and the “punk art” at the Metropolitan Museum of Art fill the March 25 issue. Skip. I will also skip the Feb. 25 issue and its report on the Spanish economy plus a review of still another “Die Hard” movie. Hey, I have standards and limited room on the bed.
The March 4 issue goes to the top of the pile with a story on community newspapers and the omnipresent appearance of Purell hand cleaner, to which I am addicted.
Truth be told, I will pay much more attention to that pile of Sports Illustrated. I blush to admit that I get more pleasure from SI than the New Yorker. Sue me. There is always some great and interesting writing.
On top of the pile is the April I baseball issue, which predicts that “our” Boston Red sox will finish last in the division and the Blue Jays will lose to the Tampa Bay Rays in the championship series. The Yankees will finish third, ahead of the Orioles. Those predictions were made before the avalanche of injuries struck the Yanks.
I will skip the “March Madness” issue since that is all history. For your info, Si did correctly pick Louisville, but had them beating Miami in the final game. They were dumb enough to figure that Georgetown would go deep into the tourney. Me, too. They went out in the second game. I will read every word of the Feb. 18 issue which covers the fabulous career of Michael Jordan. Likewise, the March 6 issue and 75 years of the Big Dance. I don’t have to tell you that the SI swimsuit edition will be retained for future research since the models cover all seven continents, and little else. I have always been fascinated by geography. The “Power in Sports” issue will go to the bottom of the pile, natch.
Never discount Texas Monthly. They always have something interesting including “Who Killed the Dixie Chicks?” and “Inside the Fallen World of Lance Armstrong.” Save.
My Very Favorite Magazine might be Vanity Fair. There is always something delicious in every issue. The April issue features “The 15-year-Old Girl Who Took on the Taliban” and the always fabulous Maureen Dowd on the usually fabulous Bette Midler.
Esquire is ridiculously cheap, the only reason for inclusion. The April issue will review the “uniquely, spectacular American life” of one Robert Redford. I will skip the profile on one Hugh Hefner, 87. Please. I will also skip the March Esquire profile on the mysteriously popular Ashton Kutcher, the man who single-handedly ruined “Two and a Half Men.”
If I have a moment, I will skim through The Week magazine, if only for its rear-page crossword puzzle.
In lieu of actually doing anything physical, I will read Men’s Journal from cover to cover on motorcycling in the Himalayas, biking volcanos in Ecuador and hiking the canyons of Utah. Just reading these treatises makes me hungry. I will read the profile on Yankee Mark Teixeira’s workout regimen, since he is injured and out for half the season. Pity.
Now that winter has returned, The only trip I will take is moving the magazine pile from my bed to the couch while I burn the last few sticks from the firewood pile.
See you on July 5.