Okay. I admit it. I have a book problem.
I, Randall (Randy) C Willis, am a book addict.
In my defense, it is my mother’s fault…she was my first dealer.
From my earliest days, I remember being surrounded by books…books purchased for my enjoyment and edification (I read that word in a book).
Books were my companions. Books were my connection to the greater universe. Books were my babysitter. Books were my escape. Wherever my books are, that place is my home.
As I said, my mom started the process, as seen below in scans of some of my earliest books. Each of these volumes was published within a couple years of my birth, and either my mother or I have schlepped these things around for almost five decades.
I still smile as I flip through the Counting Book, testing my acumen. So far, so good.
And I sit in awe of the Adventures of Beany & Cecil, which was way too hip for kids as a short trip down YouTube indicates.
At the peak of my addiction, I think I owned 3000 books, give or take. I am presently sitting around 500, the rest being donated over the years to Good Will stores in Canada and the United States.
I know libraries exist, but in a twisted way, that would be like going to a strip club or brothel. A bibliographic quickie instead of a committed relationship (told you it was twisted).
No, I’ll stick with my books, thanks. Constant companions in an inconstant world.