Nothin’ — and I mean *nothin’* — like the anticipatory thrill of being able to say, “I get to see Phish tomorrow night.” Reminiscent of peak childhood Christmas or the last day of school, June 1997.
I’m reading Roth’s The Plot Against America now. It’s my third Roth in as many weeks, and I can’t seem to stop. The Ghost Writer and Sabbath’s Theater are next on my list, but I’m also accruing a stack of new books that need to be devoured. I think, before jetting further down the Roth rabbit hole, I’ll take these grand themes of late-90s and early-00s Rothian discourse and use them to prop up my reading of Eve Ewing’s Ghosts in the Schoolyard.
Of course, I’ve got miles and miles to drive between home and Phish’s two-night stand in upstate New York; no doubt I’ll find a good bookstore or two along the way.