When I was young, I read book after book. It was like traveling to another culture, land and world.

I read on the potty chair and in the bathroom.

Recently, I have had contacts with other persons who experienced the same sort of training. I know that’s true because items have been “borrowed” from my sanitary library and some requests have been made.

For many years, I owned Little Golden Books and attached records. My aunt declared they weren’t companions in the private room.

I didn’t have the equipment anyway.

Today, in my dotage, I still read.

Reading the computer is okay, but I like printed paper better.

My love of the printed word dates back to age 3.

It truly does. My dad and I used to battle over who got to read the daily paper first.

Mom grabbed me and the paper and read to me, despite my declaration that I could do it myself.

I couldn’t, but I thought I could. I knew what Nancy & Sluggo were up to and didn’t give a whit which lady hosted whom at tea.

Mom did.

She was secretary for several church-based groups.

Digging through one of my boxes of keepsakes recently, I learned who was who.

There were also several books.

I re-read “The Prophet” by Khalil Gibran and hoped the granddaughters would.

They sort of did.

It was declared “too dry.”

I don’t think so.

I am reading it again, along with a new book by Terry Marshall and Ann Marshall.

So far, it’s a page-turner.

I have known that couple for so long and gladly consumed the first book, “Soda Springs.”

It’s always good when one is acquainted with the authors.

Another on-paper adventure will be the one Pat Melgares penned about Coach.

I learned long ago that Joe I. Vigil is just that.

A young girl came from the Front Range to talk about the famed runner and landed at my desk.

“You want to talk about coach?” I asked.

“I would like to know why everyone calls him “Coach.”

“Because he is.”

Books are because they are, excellence is because it is and heritage perpetuates itself.

All because someone read to each of us. And encouraged that activity.