I was supposed to go to the gym at lunch today for my chest and back workout but I skipped, lured by the beautiful spring weather we are having today. Instead, I headed over to Pentagon Row, found a chair which I pulled into the sunlight, propped up my fit, tipped back the chair and proceeded to read the last 40 pages of I. Asimov.
This marks the 14th consecutive year that I have read the book (the first time was the spring of 1994 when I was about to graduate from college) and I never tire of it. In fact, as usual, the concluded pages of the book, Janet Asimov’s epilogue, brought tears to my eyes, which I think had to brush away as I walked back to the office. I imagine some people think that I am crazy for reading the same books every April, but I don’t care. I look forward to it each year, the way I look forward to spring and to the baseball season.
On the train ride home this evening, I’ll start in on the first volume of Isaac Asimov’s original autobiography, In Memory Yet Green. I wasn’t sure if I should bring it with me to the office today because I didn’t think I’d finish I. Asimov. It’s a good thing I brought it after all.
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