Since I was but a wee lad, people have warned me: "Don't go grocery shopping when you are hungry." This is good advice; it prevents impulse buys and gross overpurchases of foodstuffs, and I try to adhere to it as often as I can.

There is related piece of advice; one that the legions of wise people in my life have failed to pass on. I discovered the need for this tidbit while on a trip to Barnes and Noble tonight. It goes as follows: when you have been re-reading old books all summer, don't go to Barnes and Noble without either a) a game plan or b) a chaperone. I walked in looking for light reading. A popcorn book. Fluff. I walked out with an ambitious bag full of seven diverse books.

If I were to look at my book-buying spree as a trip to the mental nutrition grocery store, I could say that I've covered all of my basic food groups. I've got my carbohydrates (award winning fiction, good stories that tell about compelling characters; filling but not necessarily nutritionally important; in this metaphor, Empire Falls by Richard Russo), my dairy (information download sans interesting narrative; tasty and useful, but too much of it and I'm just stopped up and uncomfortable; 101 Things To Do With Your Private Pilot's License by Leroy Cook), fruit and vegetables (delicious and nutritious; good for mind and soul; Bird by Bird and Traveling Mercies, both by Anne Lamott), meat (make-you-think, change your perspective types of books; real protein; Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell), and finally, the junk food (a couple of Dan Brown books; that's right, suspense fiction by a popular writer; quiet, you, I'll bet you went to see MI:III in the first week, leave my Dan Brown alone). Altogether, a balanced literary diet to bring me into the upcoming fall semester. Much excitement to follow.

Still loving my Cubs hat. I wear it entirely too much.