"Summer's here and the time is right for dancin' in the streets." So sang Martha and the Vandellas way back when, before I was born - not! The lyrics were written by William Stevenson and Marvin Gaye.
It was a quiet day at the floating bookshop. My man, Bob Rubenstein, author of Ghost Runners, stopped by, and I later found an email from him containing a file of most of his second novel, a work in progress, The White Bridge. I will toil at weeding out any errors. I appreciate his confidence in me.
I finally sold Jimmy Carter's Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid, to a nice young man. I'd had it for so long I figured the ex-peanut farmer had fallen too low in the eyes of Americans to generate interest, even in ultra-liberal New York. The former president puts the onus for the conflict on Israel. As I see it, the Palestinians and the rest of the Arab world will not be satisfied with anything less than the destruction of Israel. That is not a plan for peace. Meanwhile, Muslims live and work in the Jewish state and even serve in its parliament. Mossad agents assassinate terrorists and Israeli leadership apologizes if the innocent are caught in the crossfire. Muslims exult at the killing of women and children by homicide bombers. It's old news.
Esther kept me company the last hour. Her son, 32, is not living right, asking her for money while driving around in a Mercedes. Sounds like some tough love is in order. Easy for me to say, I guess, as I don't have any children.
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