Travelling Light?

We have recently made the decision to move (again!) and before anyone gets too excited, let me be clear:  this move is to a larger, nicer apartment on campus - NOT to our fabled "new house" on Lookout Mountain, which may never (EVER!) be worked on again.  The other blog is practically at a standstill, as is the related work on said house.  But the new apartment is going to be great, and we are excited.  As the idea of a move has settled in, my approach to the old TBR shelf has shifted a bit.  I now need to read all (by May - HA!) the books I suspect I will get rid of after reading.  Less to move, you see.  So, in the interest of lightening the load, I am now reading A Monk Swimming by Malachy McCourt.  Joel read it ages ago and kept urging me to read it, so there it has sat.  Untouched.  I don't know why I'm so uninterested (well, I have an inkling, but it reflects such utter snobbery that I can't record it here), but I am finally taking it up in hopes of dispatching it to McKay forthwith.  And it does have funny bits and interesting musings, so I'm not suffering.  In fact, there are even some thoughts on bartending worthy of recording here:

What a position of power has the man behind the bar!  Equal to the C.E.O. behind the big desk, the professor behind the podium, the judge on the bench, the actor on the stage - but perhaps most equivalent to the priest at the alter.  The barman, like the priest, deals with wine and water; he utters incantations: $1.10 plus $1.10 = $2.20 + tax = $2.30; his congregation are supplicants for grace, which he dispenses upon proper and ample contributions.  He hears confessions of wrongdoing and absolves the sinner, and at the end of the night, gives the old cry, Ita Missa Est - Go, Ye are Dismissed - and closes up, going to bed satisfied at having ministered well to his congregation. (46)

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