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Remind me later.


Patti Smith: The Paula Deen of Punk?

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My high school dropout mother taught me to read when I was three.

I soon acquired what I presumed would be a lifelong habit/talent: the ability to read with almost complete attention and retention for hours at a stretch.

Then I sidled up to middle age, and noticed to my horror how long it took me to get to the bottom of a book's first page.

And when I did make it, realizing I didn't remember what I'd just (supposedly) read.

That was when I wasn't dozing off or daydreaming after three sentences.

This means I can still recall large sections of a TIME cover story on Woody Allen just after Manhattan came out, but don't recall a single word of Liberal Fascism.

I'll confess something else: I still barely know the difference between Shia and Sunni, or the Federalists and the Anti-Federalists.

Sometimes I think Paul Krugman and Thomas Friedman are the same guy.

This year I'm turning fifty.

And I've decided I just don't care.

So what to buy with my Christmas Amazon gift card?