good read: The Book of Joe

I preface this post by confessing my desperate need to fill my life with a profusion of books. I worship the power of books, and how they transport the reader into another world. I tend to read books for many different reasons: a good plot, incredible characters, remarkable writing, or sometimes just as a means of escape. Also, I value books for scores of reasons, thus not being able to define what makes a “good book” by means of one or two defining characteristics; though, if I had to, I guess a “good book” to me is one that sticks with me for an extended period of time—whether it be a moment, or a lifetime.


I recently read Jonathan Tropper’s The Book of Joe, and though I wouldn’t consider it delicious writing, I would argue that it is real writing. Not very often—and I think this is due to the complexity of the task—does a writer craft a novel with a style that employs the habits of everyday life. The casual manner in which Tropper tells his story allows readers to feel a certain closeness to his characters—not necessarily because they are tremendously developed, nor are they underdeveloped—through the fierceness of truth that lies behind each and every one of them.

Tropper sets his narrative in a fictional Connecticut town (much to my gleeful surprise), a town that could potentially exist anywhere, and probably does. His main character deals with the all-to familiar circumstances that force some of us to go back to the town we grew up in and face the warped memories we have shaped, abandoned, reshaped, and forgotten. The clumsiness in which Tropper’s character does this, reminds us all of the difficulties of growing up, and of the ease with which we tend to bury our past. Only when we return to our childhood can we justly grow as adults.

All in all, I struggled with the idea of this book as a whole, yet when I finished reading the very last page, and took my customary moment of literary digestion, did I finally feel the ambiance of Tropper’s novel. It stuck with me for about two days, leaving me wondering what elements of my past and childhood I may have forced to lay dormant all these years; it also comforted me in knowing that the lapses in memory that suddenly become vividly alive in mere seconds once the mind gives in happen to everyone.

Litchfield County, wine and chocolate

So, it’s not surprising that one of my favorite corners of the earth lies in northwestern Connecticut. A place quite contrary to the big-city lights of Boston or Manhattan, and even Chicago and Atlanta for that matter, Litchfield County offers a quiet solitude, cozy atmosphere, and some of the greatest hidden treasures in New England. The scenic drive to Litchfield County limits the time one has to travel on the infamous I-84, and truly shows off some of Connecticut’s green landscape, winding roads, and glorious hills and valleys. Though this slice of heaven is celebrated for it’s historic districts, town commons and greens, local growers, and natural beauty (including covered bridges: one in West Cornwall and two in Kent; a topic for an entirely different post), here are some of my favorite places:

Haight-Brown Winery is located just beyond junction 118 and 202 in Litchfield. This gorgeous winery and vineyard, constructed from a hollowed out barn offers eleven wines ranging from chardonnay to merlot to delicious dessert wines, including their decadent Apricot Moon. The atmosphere is unbeatable: upon entering, you are immediately shuffled upstairs to the loft where you can browse around, sit at the farmhouse style wine-tasting bar, or relax on the heated deck that overlooks acres of well-developed grapes for harvest. Delicious assortments of cheeses are offered for devouring whilst sampling wine in this blissful haven.


Not too far down the road, in neighboring Goshen, is another highly desirable, yet strangely familiar winery, Sunset Meadow Vineyards. Located just ten minutes from Haight-Brown, Sunset Meadow offers a homey place to sample more locally fashioned wines, ranging from the ever-popular whites, to the local favorite reds, developed by the St. Croix grape, born in the Midwest, and growing well in New England’s rough rocky soil. In addition to the delightful offering s of reds and whites, I left Sunset with an amazing rosé, Sunset Blush (reminding me of my most favorite song). If you’re ever looking for something to do, and you enjoying cruising in your car listening to Billy Joel and Carole King as you coast the scenic roads less traveled in Connecticut, and if you are a fan of wine, then I highly recommend investing the time and mileage into the Connecticut Wine Trail.


And of course, after the consumption of countless samples of taste bud-tingling swills, it’s an agreeable recommendation that you make your way to this miniature paradise overflowing with mouth-watering truffles, and various and sundry candies reminiscent of days gone by. The Litchfield Candy Company is an endearing little shoppe, jam-packed with flavor after flavor of chocolate truffles, ranging from dark chocolate to amaretto. Conveniently located alongside Rte. 202, it’s easy to miss as it holds all this marvelous wonder in a small, one room red shack. If you drive by, make sure you stop in—you won’t regret it.

good idea: yellow chalk

It was this past Monday that I quietly tip-toed around the campus of a rather rural Catholic college, in search of the classroom that would become a cozy learning vestibule for young eager minds this fall semester, when I stumbled upon a dimly lit room, instantly noticing that two of the four walls were draped with blackboards (ironically, green in color). Almost instantly, I rocketed back in time to the second grade: my first memorable encounter with chalkboards--that soft green surface covered with the dust of chalk. The silver tray holding stray pieces of white and colored chalk and two standard erasers--you know, the kind you begged to be allowed to clap during recess for extra credit or bonus points. Ah yes, chalk: I would have to secure some in order to utilize this fine commodity of the past. And not just any chalk, no, I want--need--yellow chalk; the same chalk my elementary and middle school teachers nonchalantly carried around. The yellow chalk that dusted the blackboard, and the backs of female teachers' dresses and male teachers' trousers; that yellow chalk with the perfect contrasting hue on its green backdrop. That yellow chalk that, though it doesn't erase as well as white chalk, commands attention from all learners in the classroom. The coveted yellow chalk that educates students. Nostalgia? You bet. And yes, I know that the chalkboard chalk business is no longer as lucrative as the whiteboard and dry erase marker industries, but still, I prefer to be launched back into the peaceful world (so I assume) of the 1950s--you know, where families ate dinner together, and soda jerks handed you that classic 1957 manufactured Coca-Cola bottle--any day than continue this spiral into a land of pushing buttons, text messaging, and voice commanding gadgets. In fact, I relish it, embrace it, and realize that I must locate a chalk holder.