Excerpt:
Barnstable’s libraries have served my family well, so I admit I am partial to their survival. For example, I’m composing this column in an apartment 34 stories above the Hudson River, with a glorious view of New York City’s west side.
One of our sons lives here with his wife, he an assistant professor of theoretical physics in the City University of New York system, and she, a native of Singapore, a bright cog in the gigantic and complex wheel of international banking.
Where are they on this morning off? With all the glitz the Big Apple has to offer, they are at the local library sitting in solace among the greatest minds that ever writ and shared. It’s a habit that was fashioned for him in that unobtrusive brick library on Main Street, Hyannis, where as a Barnstable High School student, he pored over Einstein and Gandhi, becoming a vegetarian in the process. It was the inspiring prose of those intellectual giants that helped hone his latent talents for cosmic inquiry and imbued him with the mental and physical discipline needed to pursue it.
he became a vegetarian in the library?
I don’t believe that. Our pork vending machine is always out of bacon chip cookies and our moo cow, Grace, is missing her whole leg from an attack by several hungry patrons.
libraries are for carnivores. vegetarians would eat the books.