Why not a bit deeper?

Perhaps if I clarify, by a bit deeper, what I mean is not more philosophical talk about wisdom, but more on the general public and surface knowledge.

I am at the bookstore and I cannot read because I am so distracted by the horrible music. I wanted to read books I brought, but instead I am looking up at and searching the shelves in my not-so-quiet little corner.

 I am fortunate at least to be next to plays. Some I know. I considered trying to find a copy of a play my daughter and I once recorded on her phone while being bored out of our mind. Turns out, she's kind of funny. Anyway, maybe it would make a sweet Christmas present. I found the play in one of my books, 101 Great Books. Another play from the book, Tartuffe, by Molierre, is right next to me. I liked Molierre, his play was funny. This book I have is great, it's an anthology with 101 books of all kinds; plays, politics, and philosophy, and the works are condensed to like three or four pages.

I picked up Tartuffe, and I leafed through Tennessee Williams, took a picture of the first page of The Glass Menagerie, and then decided I couldn't stand Samuel Beckett, but I totally get why other people love him.

Once I had wanted to have a Tennesse William's night, I can see myself on a couch with a giant, chunky, hand-knitted blanket, with big socks and a mug of root beer float.

I saw The Glass Menagerie somewhere at school in East Tennessee, it made an impression on me.

There is a book in front of me, another anthology, "Plays in One Act" ...

 and before reading it, I scanned the credits, so to speak.

The names that I recognized helped to give the book a little street cred. Arthur Miller, Joyce Carrol Oates, Sam Shepard, Eudora Welty.

The necessity of fame is evident. The model for all things comes from these. 

The first pages: