It’s Wednesday, Maggie

It’s Wednesday. I’m sitting by the window at 1842, finishing off a double espresso. I didn’t eat any breakfast, and the caffeine is making me a little sick. There are only a few customers here this morning, and the whole place is quiet, despite CNN flashing tragic London bombing scenes over and over again. Familiar faces occasionally come in, order coffee and leave again. I don’t know any of them, but I see them all the time. Waterloo is such a small town.
I finished reading “Maggie Cassidy” (finally). It was a bit of a slow starter, and focused much too much on Duluoz’s (Kerouak’s) awkward relationship with Maggie. I felt I was getting too close to their relationship — like I was really intruding on a disaster-bound teen romance. Otherwise, it was a magnificent read. Like with his other books and avatars, Kerouac started moving faster and faster, becoming more worldly, experienced, and restless. The last half of the book breezed by, and I didn’t want it to end. But it ended quite abruptly, and in classic Kerouac fashion, with no satisfaction … just a stop in the writing, with a cruel, realistic commentary on the death of childhood innocence and teenage love.
I’m not sure where the Kerouac literary timeline would head after this, maybe “Town and Country”? I’ll probably want to check that one out next.
In the meantime, I’ve picked up “Voodoo Science” again. Good reference on fake scientific claims that get passed off as real because of sensationalized media coverage, or lazy/non-existent peer review.