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My Day

(this refers to Saturday, since i am posting it after midnight)

I had a pretty productive day, even though I woke up very late.

I took my car in for an oil change. They were very busy, but fortunately I had some reading material, specifically The Collected Tales of Nikolai Gogol. While I waited I read a very entertaining story called The Tale of How Ivan Ivanovich Quarrelled with Ivan Nikiforovich. It's long for a short story, but since they were so busy at the service station I had time to read a little more than half of it.

By the time my car was done and I  paid my bill, business had died down considerably. So I read this particularly memorable passage to the mechanic: 

"I confess I don't understand why it's so arranged that women grab us by the nose as deftly as if it were a teapot handle. Either their hands are made for it, or our noses are no longer good for anything."
(yes, I know it's sexist. I still like it.)

He got a chuckle out of it. I have said at least a couple of times in this journal that the mark of great literature is something scholars and non-scholars alike can appreciate it. If it gets a good reaction when you read it to the guy who works on your car, I'd say it passes that test.