As a matter of fact, I do know the way to San Jose

I finished reading The Subtle Knife along the way and started reading The Lamp at Noon and Other Stories by Sinclair Ross, one of the books that Heather sent me for my birthday. I brought it along in no small part because it’s the lightest of the book, but I am really enjoying it so far. Here’s a little bit I liked from “Cornet at Night”:

For a farm boy is like that. Alone with himself and his horse he cuts a fine figure. He is the measure of the universe. He foresees a great many encounters with life, and in them all acquits himself a little more than creditably. He is fearless, resourceful, a bit of a brag. His horse never contradicts.

But in town it is different. There are eyes here, critical, that pierce with a single glance the little bubble of his self- importance, and leave him dwindled smaller even than his normal size. It always happens that way. They are so superbly poised and sophisticated, these strangers, so completely masters of their situation as they loll in doorways and go sauntering up and down Main Street. Instantly he yields to them his place as measure of the universe, especially if he is a small boy wearing squeaky corduroys, especially if he has a worldly-wise old horse like Rock, one that knows his Main Streets, and will take them in nothing but his own slow philosophic stride.

Meanwhile, I wasn’t really up to sightseeing this evening, though I am in a nice section of San Jose, and it looks pleasant enough, at least from my hotel window. I got some room service, and I’m getting ready to fall asleep. Actually, I was getting ready to fall asleep a few hours ago. I’ve kind of lost completely track of time in all the flying.