Marc of Marc and Angel Hack Life suggests 30 books everyone should read by their 30th birthday. After looking through the list, I’ve concluded a more accurate title might be “30 books other people think are important that I managed to read before I was 30,” but in amongst the usual suspects there are some gems worth mentioning.

I like book lists. I like to see what books other people think are important. I like to see to what extent people believe that books can change lives. I like to get a feeling for how my literary experiences compare to others.  Mostly, though, I like to ponder what led the person to believe the books were important, especially when the list is targeted at a particular demographic.

Maybe I’m being a bit harsh, but I’m not convinced that some of the books on Marc’s list are especially important to read early in one’s life.  For example, “The Origin of Species.” I’m not arguing that this isn’t an important book–it is–but if one wants to learn the elements of evolutionary science,* one would be better served by a quality college-level textbook. “The Origin of Species,” with its Victorian prose, is a difficult read, and in the last 150 years science has shed even more light on the evolutionary process.

In the case of several titles on the list, so many young people read these titles and add them to their must read lists that their mere presence is a cliche.  “Lord of the Rings” is an obvious choice.  So is “Catcher in the Rye” and “A Clockwork Orange.”

Some of the books lends themselves to my alternate title because they were ripped straight off of a high school reading list: “Siddhartha,” “1984,” “One Hundred Years of Solitude,” “Catch 22,” “To Kill A Mockingbird,” “Grapes of Wrath,”and “For Whom the Bell Tolls.”

Others are business-type books that may be important in their given contexts but from a liberal education perspective, I would venture to say one’s attention may be better placed elsewhere: “How to Win Friends and Influence People,” “The Tipping Point,” and “Getting Things Done.” The first may in time become a bona fide classic.  The second I don’t believe will stand the test of time.  The third is a self-help book (one that has helped me, certainly) that I would never recommend everyone read.  Read it if you need it.  If you don’t, read something else.

On the other hand, Marc has some interesting books on his list that come out of left field, and I would argue these books (only one of which I have read) are what makes his list interesting and valuable.  They are “The Wisdom of the Desert,” by Thomas Merton, “Four Quartets,” by T.S. Eliot, and “The Master and Margarita,” by Mikhail Bulgakov.  These additions make the entire list valuable because they are unique, or at least rare, on other short “must-read” lists.

Finally, how did I fare?  Of the 30 books on his list, I have read 16, five of them after my 30th birthday. To be fair, however,  “Getting Things Done” was copyrighted in 2001, so there’s no way I could have read it before I was 30.

Even though I disagree that everyone under 30 should read them, I think this is an excellent list of important books.  If you didn’t read them in high school or college, pick them up now.  Perhaps you’ll be like me and discover a new favorite writer after your 30th birthday.  In my case it was Hemingway.

* I refuse to call it a theory. There are various theories of evolution. The process itself is fact, supported by rigorous scientific observation.

The photo was also used at the 2005 State Fair.

The thing that I find interesting is that this seems ominously similar to another proposal floated a few years ago by Cambridge Homes — they even went so far as to have a neighborhood meeting on the topic, wherein about two dozen people stood up and whined about all the usual NIMBY problems — flood protection and traffic — and one person stood up and said we needed more infill if we were going to improve the region (and no, it wasn’t me).  The Cambrige Homes page for that development says the project is “on hold” while the owner explores other uses for the property. It looks like that other use has been found, and even the Greek Church stays.

Has Angelides taken into account all of the potential push-back he will get from East Sacramento when he tries to develop a way into and out of that neighborhood? I hope so.

The fact that Corti Bros. must relocate is a done deal. But hopefully the sheer outpouring of support from the community will:

1. Ensure that Corti Bros will survive far into the future in a new location and
2. That location will continue to be relatively close to where the action is.

Margaret started a new blog at http://savecortibros.blogspot.com/ to chronicle the institution’s impending move and, hopefully, phoenix-like ressurection as well as, no doubt, the attempt to boycott Corti’s nouveau replacement.

Besides, they’re going to give me heartburn every time I watch Alton Brown.

Why do they miss the point? Because Boards of Directors are supposed to support the organizations they direct. In the non-profit world, the Board of Directors is supposed to be a cheerleader for the organization, with members speaking on behalf of the organization, advocating for it, and raising money.  As I see it, this also means the Board must have an intimate understanding of the organization it directs and, in the case of Regional Transit, this means riding the bus.  Not just light rail either. Ride the bus. And it means standing up for transit in their respective chambers or, as RT rider put it, “take transit back to their ‘day’ jobs.”

But unlike a non-profit Board, RT’s Board is made up of elected officials, no doubt because RT’s charter insists that they be there. That means that, for each city council or county board of supervisors involved, somebody has to draw the short straw and serve.

If RT’s Boardmembers aren’t willing to experience the services RT provides, then perhaps they should step aside for others who do care.

Or maybe RT should consider a change to its charter. It might be time to include non-elected officials on the Board.  It might be time to include a few RT consumers on the Board or even *gasp* create an elected Board of Directors.

1. Milk
2. Potatoes
3. Peanut Butter
4. Ketchup
5. Apples

Milk is easy. Just about every supermarket carries at least one organic milk brand.  At Nugget you can get Horizon or Crystal. At Safeway you can get Horizon or their store-brand organic. It is a little more expensive but if you keep your eye open, there are occassionally sales. As for taste, I haven’t really noticed a difference.  Mainly I notice a taste difference if I buy the gallon plastic jugs versus the half-gallon paper cartons.

I haven’t tried potatoes yet, but it makes sense. They’re a root and like carrots, spinach, or celery (all of which actually taste different if organic) you buy them covered with dirt. If they aren’t organic, who knows what’s in the dirt?

Peanut Butter. So far, organic peanut butter has been a disappointment. I already pay a premium for Adams and to have to pay even more for peanut butter that tastes off, funky, *not good* makes little sense to me. Adams organic was the best of a bad bunch, but I haven’t tried anywhere near all of the brands available. I will endeavor to try again.

Ketchup. We don’t eat very much ketchup. We’ve got half a bottle of Heintz that is probaby left over from last year’s July 4th party.  We also have a bottle of organic agave ketchup that hasn’t even been opened yet.  For us, since we use it so infrequently, it just makes sense to spend a little more for the organic.

Apples. I’ve been eating pesticide-riddled apples for years, and other than this growth on my stomach…oh, sources tell me its a “beer” gut, not an “apple” gut…I’ve got no ill effects. But since I would rather not suddenly find myself staring at a hospital ceiling, I will buy only organic apples from now on. Although frankly, about 80 percent of the apples I’ve purchased in the last year have been organic.  I grab the first apples I see and where I shop, they’re organic.

If you’re strapped for cash, I doubt any of these options makes much sense because in each case you pay a sometimes substantial premium for the organic version. Still, in the grand scheme of things, over the course of a year my wild-ass estimate is that buying only the organic versions of the above, assuming I wasn’t buying any organics already, would be about an extra $300 a year, and that’s mostly because we eat about a pound of apples and a gallon and a half of milk a week (small child, you know).  I could easily save that much just by changing some eating habits. Since I’m already buying organic apples and milk, it’s really about $100 a year.

But I would argue that this list isn’t the best way to start going organic. Most of the time, I tell people if you buy just one organic item in the produce aisle, make it celery. Organic celery will remind you why it is considered an “aromatic” vegetable. It is more pungent and has a stronger flavor. If you use celery in your soups, for example, you will almost certainly tell the difference between the organic and the non-organic.

Second, I recommend spinach. Organic spinach doesn’t have the nice, uniform, big leaves, (unless you buy the pre-packaged crap in the plastic cases) and it’s usually more dirty, but again, better flavor. Spinach is also a leaf. That’s a lot of surface area to catch and soak up pesticides if you aren’t buying organic.

But no matter what you decide to buy, vote with your dollars. Stores feel compelled to stock organics because there’s demand, and if there’s enough demand, there will be competition, and at the risk of sounding like a raging conservative, competition is good for the consumer.

I’m puzzled by the inclusion of Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom. I think Cory Doctorow is a plenty talented writer, but I struggled to get in to this book and never finished it. I suspect the attempt to get Boing Boinged may have had something to do with it.

Unlike my previous list, I’m not going to try to make my own, as I don’t think my Sci Fi reading history is up to the task. I’ll leave that to the Heron.

However, the writer includes a list of several more books at the bottom and I probably would have elevated A Canticle for Liebowitz but I’m also puzzled by the inclusion of Scalzi’s Old Man’s War. There seems to be a groundswell of support for this book, and while I found it entertaining and workmanly written, it was also a rehash of Starship Troopers and virtually every army movie ever made, plus Gomer Pyle.  The fact that there is a twist, that all the soldiers are genetically modified old people, does not a classic make.

Back in the day, around 2002 or so, I wondered aloud whether anyone knew of any Starbucks that had actually closed.  I was walking through the Financial District in San Francisco at the time and one of my companions said he saw where one had closed but another one opened around the corner. “That’s just moving,” I said, “and it doesn’t count.”

But apparently even the relatively inelastic demand of our nationwide caffeine/sugar combo fix can’t postpone the announcement that Starbucks will be closing 600 stores, most opened recently.  Even more interesting, the article mentions an “internal watch list.” Starbucks has been keeping an eye on its unprofitable stores without actually closing them:

They were not profitable, not expected to be profitable in the foreseeable future, and the “vast majority” had been opened near an existing company-operated Starbucks, Bocian said.

In other words, Starbucks bizzare strategy of competing with itself backfired. As usual when a company announces that it is scaling back operations and kicking employees to the curb, SBUX gained in extended hours trading.

The article did not get specifc to Sacramento, but it did get me to wondering which Starbucks locally would could be the target of a closure.  There are about 20 Starbucks within two or three miles of the Capitol.

My nominations of ones likely to get the axe (in no particular order, and not necessarily ones I think should close):

J Street and 26th. I love this Starbucks. When I lived in East Sac it had just opened and I’d always stop in on my way in to work (walking) downtown. It’s long and narrow, it’s cramped, and it’s virtually hidden among all of the other businesses along J Street. Blink and you might miss it. Which is its problem. There’s another one just seven blocks west that is far more popular.  I’ve never seen this one crowded, except maybe around Christmas.

717 K Street. This Starbucks at the light rail stop right before the train turns south, by the Westfield Mall, has an interesting mix of state workers, attorney-looking types, and their clients. It is an unfortunate Starbucks in a very unfortunate location. Given that there is another at the other end of the mall, as well as a very popular one on 9th between I and J, I’d put this one high on my list of closures.

Safeway at 19th & S. C’mon, there’s a Peets at the other end of the parking lot for God’s sake. You don’t even have to cross a street.

Which ones do you think (dear reader) are likely targets for closure? Any in the ‘burbs?

I come about this skepticism in the most obvious way: I can’t for the life of me think of a book that really changed my life. I can think of bits and pieces, small quotes, that I’ve used to piece together my personal outlook on life.  I can think of books that maybe stuck in my consciousness a bit more than others. I can think of books that made me do specific things. But an entire narrative that I can say made me make a fundamental shift like losing or gaining my religion or chucking it all to become a woodworker in Vermont? Not really.

KK’s post at Cool Tools is more optimistic:

Books still have the power to change lives. Which ones have changed yours?

I don’t mean merely great books, or memorable ones, or favorite ones. I mean books that altered your behavior, changed your mind, redirected the course of your life. Books as levers.

As a bonus, the post includes another list of lists at the end.

So, without further ado, I give you the list of books that maybe kinda sorta changed my life just a little bit in some small way and without a lot of fuss and in no particular order:

Rabbit Run, by John Updike. I was 16 and this was one of the books on the grid of books my English teacher let us chose from. Like everyone else I read Catcher in the Rye and was appropriately blown away.  I read Cat’s Cradle and felt briefly, fleetingly, clever.  But I was one of a handful who chose to read Rabbit Run, and as far as I know I was the only one who commenced to reading Updike’s entire oeuvre.  I felt sympathy for Rabbit, and even at 16 I could see the beginnings of myself in him. Caulfield would probably have considered Rabbit a phony like everyone else trying to get him to conform, but I though Rabbit was genuine in a thoughful but pathetic way.

Collected Poems by Wendell Berry.  When the woman who would become my wife and I first started dating, in fact on our first date, we found that we both had an affinity for Berry. I began reading Berry because I thought it lent credibility to my eco-intellectualism (see previous post).  This was the era (17-19 years old) when I began to get heavily into environmentalism, the budding organic movement, and the presevation of farm land (see comments on the previous post).  But Berry also spoke to the more traditional me, the one that believed in things like love, and marriage, and family.  He also spoke to the political me. His poem “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front” pretty much says it all:

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain.  Hang around me long enough and you might hear me refer to a solution to a problem as a “Huck Finn solution” or a “Tom Sawyer solution.”  This refers, of course, to the sadly weak last part of Huckleberry Finn when Tom Sawyer makes an appearance and tries to talk Huck into all sorts of convoluted ways to get out of a predicament, while Finn tries to find the path of least resistance.  But the middle part, from when Huck finds Jim on the Island until he meets up with Sawyer, is a phenomenal story that parallels the maturation of a young America trying to find itself (put that on your back cover, Penguin Classics!)  Twain asked that we not analyze it, but he’s dead now.

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien.  There are a handful of authors that seem to make it onto a lot of these kinds of lists. Tolkien is one.  I chose The Hobbit because, if my half-brothers hadn’t given it to me one Christmas, I may never have become the reader I am today. Because of The Hobbit I read Lord of the Rings. Then The Once and Future King, Dune, the Dragonrider novels, and Farenheit 451. Because of a summer devouring Fantasy and Science Fiction, I spent another summer reading War and Peace, then every summer after that reading a lot of books. Maybe I even majored in English because of The Hobbit.

Out of the Silent Planet by C.S. Lewis.  Lewis is another one.  I could take or leave the Narnia books.  They just didn’t grip me the way Lord of the Rings or even The Chronicles of Prydain books by Lloyd Alexander did. But this novel helped coalesce in me what was to become a key element of my personal theology, expressed best by Hamlet in the eponymous Shakespeare play: “There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”  Essentially, how can we, beings of Earth, delude ourselves into believing we can begin to comprehend a divinity, if one exists?

The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. Rand is another one.  And I’m totally kidding.  You knew that right? And I can’t really comment on her philosophy because I couldn’t make it more than a hundred pages through this plodding, thick, one-dimensional novel.

Getting Things Done, by David Allen.  Groan. Yes, I am a member of this cult. But frankly, this was the first “getting organized” book I’d read (and I’d read a lot of them) that really started to make sense to me.  Allen’s system has enough room in it to tinker with it to make it your own, but enough structure that someone with a little bit of willpower could fully implement it. Unfortunately, I don’t have much willpower.

Le Rouge et Le Noir, by Stendhal.  Where do I begin with this book.  Oh yeah.  I read it in French!  En francais!  Boo-ya!

• Shallow: Recycling.
• Deep: Using less crap.
• Shallow: Buying a hybrid.
• Deep: Giving up your car.

I bring this up because of an article I read today on Yahoo! (via CNN Money): “One Way to Handle Gas Prices: Move” The article describes a school teacher who gave up her quaint farmhouse 62 miles from work and rented a place in town.  Granted, the move was motivated by economic, rather than ecological, factors, but it had the added bonus of reducing her “carbon footprint” (to use the cliche of the day) in a somewhat deep manner: she redefined what she needed to live the life she wanted.

If gas were still a buck fity a gallon she never would have made that choice.

I don’t know how big a trend this is — and the article does mention that the people making these choices tend to be renters because its easier to break a lease than sell a home.  Still, if I were in the housing market right now (wait, I am), I’d pay a premium for a home that enabled my wife and I to minimize our commuting and ideally, ensure at least one of us wouldn’t need to drive to work. I’m sure I’m not the only one.

Gas prices may even drive people to buy some of the over-priced, underselling properties in the greater-downtown area. I still think they’ll need to lower their prices, but it could happen.

Maybe gas prices will renew interest in super high-density living in Sacramento. And maybe this time they’ll plan to build to a scale more suited to the area.