Night out for the boys — well, for Kenny and me — while Kathryn had some of the girls over.
Kenny introduced me to a Dallas sushi venue, Asian Mint. His appearing-to-be deep-fried Texas Roll was a pleasant, crunchy blend of oriental and Texas. The mango sauce added a sweet smoothness. My more standard tuna came with a little internal heat — the wasabi perfectly blended (Kenny is the one who doesn’t like horseradish heat, having somehow missed that gene from my grandfather).
Asian Mint is a Dallas hit (“Asian fusion”). It’s not Salt Lake City’s Takashi, but for 1,000 miles from the Wasatch Front, it’s a good place for Saturday night. We got there early. Families were lined up waiting when we left.
We closed off the night at Half-Price Books, at the store on Northwest Highway fans and employees fondly deem “the mother ship.” (Years ago, across the street to the east, the store was in an old, converted restaurant which had a pirate’s ship inside; the store kept the ship as a kids’ reading area. Was that the origin of “mother ship?”)
I don’t read enough. 20 years ago I found a study that said if you read one book a month, 12 books a year, you’re in the 99th percentile of readers.
The coffee mug with Einstein on it says “Coffee makes me smart.” Kenny, our family’s most-tech savvy early-adopter — a high commendation in a family where Mom and Dad have been in computers since mainframes were the way to go — agreed that it’s more likely books that make us smart. We don’t read enough, but we stay in the 99th percentile.
What an easy, easy way to get ahead! Get a book: Read it.
Michael D. Green, the real estate impresario for Murray Hill who formerly headed the Louis August Jonas Foundation when I had so much fun there, used to say that he was not educated, but he read the book reviews. Reading the book reviews would be better than not knowing. At a Manhattan cocktail party he could hold his ground with just about anyone. I’ve never found a topic on which he didn’t know something, usually cutting-edge. His book recommendations are always epiphanies.
Bookstores are full of them, epiphanies.