I want to start a somewhat different sort of conversation here: What made you into a book reader?

[Sweeney]

31. Reading is my education.

I no shit, flunked first grade. I was large for my age and put into kindergarten early, and a lot of it I did not get, was not ready, and was pushed on to failure. I was at the convent then as we called the Catholic school, and my penguin talked my parents into Dr. Seuss. and it gave me a leg up. We had books, I don't know why my mother and father didn't try harder to teach me to read. They were afraid of their books being hurt I guess. Any way; God bless that man. Because he saved my life. I generally struggle with Math, but did well with Geometry. Still, I tested about 2 point below genius on average. If I had to learn in a class room I would be a total failure. I do not process verbal information well. I learn what I read well, and I retain it well, and while self doubt makes me save my books, I can often grab a book I am looking for, and turn right to the page I am looking for, and find the phase or information I am looking for- as I remember it. But I am a little dyslexic, and may have some autism, very high functioning; but mostly because I have followed my strengths rather than beat myself to death with weakness.

I wish I could say I had your parents. I am certain I would have done better in life than being an ironworker. In any event, I started with fiction as a child, and before I was out of high school had already begun to prefer non fiction, though I still write occasional fiction. I would really like to do movies. I write poetry because it is cheap and fast, and therapeutic. I understand, if you really have a truth to tell, a social truth, then you need fiction, and this is because people are quibblers. It is better to give some one an allegory than an attempt at exact truth that in some way does not meet an absolute standard of exactness. A Wizard of Oz or an Animal Farm can give a better sense if not the exact sense of a hundred books of non fiction. Besides, nonfiction makes a rational argument, and it is emotion, and the irrational that changes people for better or worse. It is easier to sell the truth if it is not presented as truth, but only as entertainment.

Any way; I need to know, and like Faustus, I will never say: Enough. This is a beautiful world, and it makes me want to believe in God that where ever your interests may lie, discovery lies behind mystery, and behind discovery lies another mystery. Any way; I have a Dr. Seuss story. I happened to be in a small store when the news said that Dr. Seuss had died. I told the woman at the register that that man had taught me how to read, and she asked if I got anything signed by him. I just smiled. But it felt like I had lost a friend.

You do not know how fortunate you are that you had supportive parents. My teachers were telling my parents that they knew I was intelligent and that they could not figure out why I did not do better in school. My parents just thought I was lazy and told me so in any number of ways. I think my father understood how he had hurt me, and he realized how intelligent I was, but after he died I really unloaded on my mother, and I am glad I did. My older brother had polio, and was 80% paralyzed, and I think my parents used me for a beast of burden. Even as a child I was wrestling with moral and metaphysical problems. Without anyone's help I was working on phenomenology and existentialism and I was still the mule of the family. I felt used, and I still do; but at least I don't hold it inside any more. I may not be pulling his load, but I got the service to humanity ingrained into me, and it is really one of my better qualities. I want to know; but mostly I want to know so I can make things better for us all. So that is my story.