The Vintage Reader

Dear vintage readers,

I'm afraid that I've developed a bit of an aversion to the Internet recently. If it weren't for weather and horoscopes (oh, and work, of course) I probably wouldn't have even opened up Firefox in the last week or so. Instead, I've read two Barbara Michaels novels from the 60s, and I'm almost to the end of a dreadful Emilie Loring from 1931 that features horrible sentences such as "Could it be the same Philip Carr her grandmother had told her about, the New York playboy whose name had been linked with starlets and socialites, whose father had been her family’s legal counsel until that horrible fight with her father, when the elder Carr had stood up for what he believed was right even when her father wanted to cut his children out of his will in order to provide for his new wife, a Broadway showgirl half Pamela’s age? Oh, it was! It was the same Philip Carr!" (I don't have the book with me right now, so that's paraphrased)

I don't want to go to Bloglines, and the mere thought of last week's thrilling discovery, del.icio.us (yes, I know everybody else has been using it for a year, but I resisted), actually causes a physical revulsion akin to nausea. The aversion has spread to other media as well: I can only listen to NPR until I hear the words "death tax" and then I have to change over to something else (to be fair, this one actually started a few weeks ago, but then the phrases that were making me change the station were "brain-damaged woman", "87-year-old pontiff", and "retired slugger").

I'm not sure what's causing this, or how long it will last, but if posts are sparse for a while, that's why.