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by Richard Price
My beach read should help me forget the roaming packs of half-feral children who will no doubt be kicking sand in my eyes and screeching like wounded monkeys. So I don’t want to read Lord of the Flies or Blood Meridian.
A certain kind of man views his bookshelves the way a leopard sees bleached bones on the veldt -- as evidence of past kills, the larger the better.
June is overflowing with matrimony -- but it's also the home of another modern ritual, graduation day -- or, as it's more evocatively known, commencement, an ending that's a beginning.