In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is Exhausted.

Thoroughly Obsessed is still obsessed with procrastination. And sleep. And also wine. (And additionally, whine).

This is a tough post to write, given that I am so far behind in WriMo that it isn’t really funny for me to write a procrastinating post about procrastinating. Dammit. But I’m going to anyway.

Because once again I have neglected an important part of my reading schedule: the non-fiction that kind gentlemen read to me while I’m running all over the region. Well, mostly back and forth to Scout Camp.

Since our last check-in, I have read (I think) two books, Mornings On Horseback by David McCullough (can’t get enough of that dude) and my current distraction, A. Lincoln by Ronald C. White. Once again I am reading with a sort of shocking time-linear efficiency, though this time I’ve read backwards.

Mornings on Horseback was fascinating, and I’m not just saying that because I think McCullough could make Sarah Palin seem like a compelling figure. (Sorry, I had to. It’s been one of those days).

At any rate, the tale of the Roosevelt children and their upbringing in upscale New York, surrounded by intensely interesting parents (mother Mittie was reportedly the model for Scarlett O’Hara, and was sending care packages to her Confederate soldier brothers at the same time her husband was running supplies for the Union), and even more intensely interesting adventures that truly shaped the people that they ended up becoming. Intensely interesting people, naturally.

What did I learn from this book? Well, the Scarlett O’Hara thing, natch. (Mitchell refused to name the influence, but it’s known that she spent a lot of time speaking to people who knew Mittie while writing the book. Mittie, by the way, was short with dark hair and an impossibly small waist. And she was not beautiful, though men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as Theodore Roosevelt Sr. was. Oh wait...) Also, I never realized what a tragedy Teddy lived through right around the time he started serving as a legislator in the state of New York; his daughter Alice was born on February 12, 1884, and within thirty-six hours both Teddy’s mother and his wife were dead. Alice, bearing the same name as her mother, was called by her middle name, Lee, by her father, who could not bear reminders of his wife.

I’m not sure exactly what to say about Mr. A. Lincoln, except that he is/was pretty badass. And I’m not done with the book yet, but at the three-quarter mark I can tell you that White is an excellent writer, and I would definitely consider picking up others of his works, McCullough style.

Once again I am struck by the similarities between politics then and politics now. Then Lincoln and other legislators who opposed (I think) the Blackhawk War were accused of “not supporting the troops.” (Hmmmm). Then when Lincoln ran for president, these accusations resurfaced to make him seem unpatriotic. (Hmmmm). This is of course ironic, because those who were mostly responsible for these accusations later committed treason against the United States by seceding from the Union.

Wow. I’m on fire today with potentially polarizing opinions, aren’t I?

In any event, I thank you, Thoroughly Obsessed reader, for giving me a forum to further procrastinate and... get warmed up? Huh. Look at that. I’m ready to go write some more.