At the end of August, lacking anything new to read, I started re-reading Mark Twain’s The Innocents Abroad. A few days later, a routine trip to the library ended with me bringing home several new releases. Then, the fall library sale season began. I finally finished Twain over the weekend, but I notice that somehow I have 27 books in the currently-reading pile. An imminent birthday will surely lead to the accrual of another ten or so. Will I be able to finish them all by Christmas, in time to buy another stack? Would it make a difference? Of course not. As Zarathustra sighed, “I recognize my lot. Thus my destiny wants it. Well, I am ready.” It’s a good life.