It will come as no surprise, to my mother at least, that I spent nearly the entire day in bed, reading a book. This was my preferred activity through most of childhood. The cats loved me.

What I read today was the last three hundred-odd pages of The Brothers K, by David James Duncan. The first half took me a while to get into, because it’s a lot about baseball, and childhood with baseball, and my childhood didn’t include baseball (see above). The second half, though, made me cry, and reminded me that the complications of my life are miniscule, and that words cannot express how grateful I am that my lover, though sent away, is not sent away as a soldier.

I read a couple books about Vietnam in high school. I remember hushed voices talking about Vietnam vets when I was in grade school. It’s a lot more horrible when you’re in love with someone of a draftable age and can suddenly frame it as something that could happen in your life.