People tell me I’m hard to buy for. Who am I to claim otherwise? Though I will say I don’t have much trouble buying things for me.
A few weeks ago for Christmas I ended up with a big stack of books that will go toward my 5-book per month minimum reading goal this year. But a couple I’ve already read.
When Jeremiah was in Connecticut in early December, he went to the Book Barn, a local institution, and found a signed copy of David McCullough’s John Adams, the book that inspired the HBO miniseries directed by Tom Hanks and starring Paul Giamatti.
I had a sense a signed copy was on the way when he asked if I’d like a signed copy of a book “by an author I know you like.” Seeing as the list of authors I like enough to talk about is about 3 people long and that John Adams was a breakaway bestseller, it seemed an obvious guess.
But there was another.
A leather-bound collector’s edition of 1776.
Complete with the certificate signed by his wife and everything.
It’s just beautiful and occupies a vaunted space on my office shelves.
I already own everything David McCullough ever published in his amazing 50+ year writing career. There’s not a bad one in the bunch (though Mornings on Horseback was arguably overshadowed by Edmund Morris’ three-volume trilogy at around the same time. But who can get enough of T.R.?)
Truly one of my favorite gifts. Even if I am afraid to read it for fear of sneezing on it.