On the way back from Portland a week back, on a late-night flight over to Newark, I read the new Cormac McCarthy book, “The Road.”

A good read. A great read. Scary as hell. Beautiful. Slow. Simple. Hauntin combinations of words. The sort of combinations that make you stop and savor them, thinking about what was being described, and, how the hell a writer could come up with something so poetic.

Ryno is a big Cormac fan. He turned me on to The Border Trilogy, of which I’ve only been able to dig into the first 30 pages or so.

“The Road” was good. It scared the shit out of me. Brought me back to those early 80s, unable to sleep thinking about the rising tensions of the Cold War, and, what our family would do if the USA were to be attacked. I remember the idea of nuclear war as something so scary, and, so hard to grasp. I was ten-years-old.