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[hunter]

72. Vladimir Nabokov's Books.

The amusing thing is that little fourteen year old wannabe gangsters in my neighborhood (some who become actual gangsters as adults) have occasionally called me a crazy Russian.

I'm not Russian at all.

Is it a slur? Is it a measure of respect? I don't know, and I don't worry about it, which may be the actual measure of my craziness.

I suppose I'm bilingual in some ways, the language I speak in my own mind, and the English I use for most of my communications with others, plus a tiny bit of German and Spanish. A very tiny bit.

English is, in some way, not my primary language. I've never felt at home there.

I entered school knowing how to read it, but in grades K-3 while other kids were reading their Dick and Jane texts, I was hanging out with the speech therapist.

I read the entire Bible when I was seven years old, the version the Jehovah Witnesses use, and I think it twisted my mind beyond repair.

Fortunately for me as a kid my mom got kicked out of that religion because she couldn't stay out of politics.