I haven’t been reading a single book in any concentrated way for the past week or more. But I have been bringing An Anthropologist on Mars to work with me. Yesterday as I slogged through a lot of medical history in the first story, I wondered if perhaps this was an illustration of that case where I’m not reading much because I’m not that interested in the book I’ve chosen. So this morning, I looked over my shelves of unread books and wondered “What do I feel like reading?” Fiction? Short stories or a novel? Autobiography? History? And I realized: actually I’d like to read about weird medical cases. So I brought Anthropologist again.

Today, at lunch, I had in the back of my mind the question “what will I connect with in this book?” Then I found it. At one point, Dr. Sacks calls several of his imminent friends to help him on “The Case of the Colorblind Painter.” And I realized, that’s what I can connect with: this fantasy of a doctor calling the most famous doctors together for me. A team of specialists hopping on planes to analyze me. My physician saying to me: “Well, last night I was discussing your case with Francis Crick — you know, the dude who discovered DNA.” Not that I long for any sort of malady for which you have to call Nobel Prize winners for advice… but I like the idea of the greatest medical brains putting their heads together for me.

Of course, in the end, their advice would probably be the same as my physician’s: take Advil. Or the ever popular exchange: “Doc, it hurts when I go like this.” “Don’t go like that.”

Anyway, I finished the first story and found it really interesting (copious footnotes aside). I may skip the next story though because unless it is literally about “The Last Hippie,” I’m not sure I’m up for it.

At home, I’ve been reading a stack of The Teen Titans from the George Lopez / Marv Wolfman era. It’s the only era I know.