On Fire

      I recently got a book from my husband. No, he didn't read it. He doesn't read unless he has to. But I won't admit I'm enjoying it because he heard about it on NPR.

      NPR and I are like oil and water. When I am speeding driving down the highway, I enjoy listening to music. Loud music. Some voice droning on and on does not appeal to me while I'm tooling around. (Yes, I know I'm missing out on wonderful stories and interviews. If I was guaranteed I'd be able to avoid Prairie Home Companion, I might try it out. But Garrison Keillor is lurking around every corner.)

      John O'Leary, when he was a kid, caused an explosion in his family's garage. Their house burned down. John got third degree burns over all of his body except for his face and scalp. 

        Immediately after the explosion, John asked his two younger sisters to go into the burning house and get a knife. O'Leary wanted to kill himself. Instead of getting a knife, his youngest sister got a cup of water and threw it on John's face... and she did it once or twice more, which is why his face is not as burned as the rest of him.

       There's a "philosophical" page between each of the sections, but I'm skimming over those. I'm reading it more as a memoir than a life-changer.

        It's an interesting story, and since O'Leary lives in St. Louis, who knows... Perhaps I might run into him some day?

        Is there a book that changed your life? I'd love to know what it was.