WHY I READ

I grew up on Sports Illustrated and the St. Louis Post-Dispatch's sports' section in my young years.

But it wasn't until I took a monthlong trip to Eastern Europe just before graduating from college that I actually read a book -- without a lot of pictures -- from beginning to end. (Makes you wonder how I graduated, huh?) My metamorphosis into a book reader happened while staying with my cousin, who was a volunteer with the Peace Corps in Ukraine.

She lived in a poor village with no television, and in all honesty, not a whole lot of other things to do. We had to take an hour train ride into the main of city of Kiev every day, and with my Russian/Ukrainian vocabulary limited to "Yes," "No" and assorted curse words, I found it hard to strike up a conversation with any of the locals on the train.

So with two hours of dead time on my hands each day, I ended up doing a lot of reading.

The second book I read while overseas was J.D. Salinger's "Catcher in the Rye." When it comes to a good read, I say it's hard to beat my main man J.D.

"Catcher in the Rye" hooked me on Salinger and the fantastic characters he created. I'm not ashamed to admit, I consider myself a lot like Holden Caulfield. I also get "depressed" with all the "phonies" in this world. What a fantastically moody, yet paranoid, character Holden is.

As much as I liked "Catcher," I think I liked Salinger's "Franny and Zooey" even better. I have so many passages from that story highlighted, my paperback looks more like a coloring book. Salinger's characters are so expressive. They're so right.

I've tried to get my girlfriend to read these two books so she could attempt to understand me better, but she can't make it through the first few pages. I think the relationship's in trouble.

John Irving is another author I enjoy, even though practically all of his tales exceed my book-length limit of 300 pages. His characters and dialogue are hilarious, but he tends to go off on these 20-page tangents of colorful crud that put me to sleep.

I loved the "Water-Method Man" but had to stop after 100 pages of "The 158-Pound Marriage" because I was completely lost.

I'm currently trying to battle my way through 600-plus pages of Irving's "A Prayer for Owen Meany." At times I can't put it down; other times I wake up slobbering on a 20-page tangent of nothingness.