The prospect of a long, long drive up evil, evil 95 this weekend was making me despondant, and I've completely exhausted
all the books on CD at the library, so this morning I checked out Talking Book World. Yes, Talking Book World. (Who, may I ask, came up with that horrific name? Hello? No self-respecting patron of any fine establishment could ever say the words "Talking Book World" without a distinct ironic grimace and a "you know, whatever the hell that place is called" wave of the hands.) For the not-terribly-cheap rate of $7 per week, I'm now the proud renter of Bill Bryson's "I'm a Stranger Here Myself" and the third Harry Potter book. The Bryson book was an easy choice because I've been wanting to listen to it for a while; the other was a toss-up between "Prisoner of Azkaban" and "On the Road." But seriously: If Harry Potter and Jack Kerouac were in a fight, who do YOU think would win?