Friday, February 8, 2019
Blue Highways, Leaves of Grass and the Parkdale Library Essay -- compa
Blue Highways, Leaves of Grass and the Parkdale Library   I dont know what precisely I expected to find at the library that summer.  Rows of gleaming shelves and neatly stacked books, probably.  No sound but the humming of fluorescent lights and the move of rubber stamps.  The librarians would be demure types - soft-spoken and intellectual.  I thought of the military position itself as a sort of solemn temple to the written word.  With these images in mind, I was startled by my first glimpse of the employees workroom.  As it turns out, librarians bear witness the People magazines before they go on display, and complain to each separate about bratty kids that file through, and they leave sticky bottles of Mountain Dew in the refrigerator.  Such are the secret lives of the people who used to strike business organization into the hearts of my second-grade classmates.   For me, it was a slightly jarring introduction to the working world.  I was starting my first summer job, and, after hours, reading Blue Highways and cerebration about journeys.  William to the lowest degree Heat stargaze crossed the country all over fifteen years ago, devouring Walt Whitman and gathering the minds of men (410).  I was overlap a small threshold of reality, gathering observations on the behavior of men.  He turned his back on the trials of life and I was watching its eccentricities he was growing cynical and I am still completely green. moreover to me in June 1999, our journeys seemed almost identical.  So as to the lowest degree Heat Moon studied Leaves of Grass, I studied this road diary and tried to come through its winding philosophy.   It was the philosophy that came in handy  - especially the parts that Least Heat Moon picked up on his way... ...ye party. Marty made his specialty (Mountain Dew bundt cake).  Millie smiled motherly and told the college students to be careful and call their mothers often.  On her last day, Molly litter away blaring her horn and flashing her lights in exhilaration.  As for me (like Whitman, a mere witness), I was wondering if these people were really who I byword them to be, and if they would be a part of me because of the time we spent together.   An old Jerseyman to William Least Heat Moon, explaining his faith in the force of nature and in humans ...then say I believe... because it is absurd (392).  It is, indeed, absurd.  And so I too believe.   whole works Cited Heat Moon, William Least.  Blue Highways A Journey into America.  Boston Little, Brown, 1982. Whitman, Walt.  Leaves of Grass. Philadelphia, 1900.  
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