What makes humans human is precisely that they do not know the future. That is why they do the fateful and amusing things they do: who can say how anything will turn out? Therein lies the only hope for redemption, discovery, and—let’s be frank—fun, fun, fun! There will be things people will get away with. And not just motel towels. There might be great illicit loves, enduring joy, faith-shaking accidents with farm machinery. But you have to not know in order to see what stories your life’s efforts bring you. The mystery is all.
+ see also: Betsy Stewart, The Last Book I Loved
My copy is well marked; the spine is cracked. Written on the title page is my name and "March 2006 / Oakbrook IL," which means I bought it at the Borders on 16th St., across from the mall, when I still lived in Chicago and Borders was still a thing. My favorite stories are "Real Estate" and "Charades" and "Dance in America" and "Four Calling Birds, Three French Hens." Of all the books I'd take with me to a desert island, this would be at the very top of the heap.