My White Whale!

So why haven’t I written in a while, you may ask (or may not even give a toot!)? Hopefully, the following will give a glimpse as to what had me preoccupied over the last couple of months.
This entry is in no way intended to be a book review, so please don’t abandon ship (pardon the pun) after the first sentence or two. To divulge a little about myself, I enjoy reading. I enjoy reading a lot. I don’t get to busy myself with this indulgent hobby as often as I’d like. Nor do I have a particular genre of literature (or music or food or anything, for that matter) that I follow with passion. My usual habit is to not read for a while; then, I suddenly punish myself by piling on a mass of books from the rush of desire that has built and is crashing upon my rigid shore of deficiency. Not good … many a noble man has gone down when hit from behind by those briny, roaring walls of desire! (Yeah, right!)  Consequently, I often find myself entangled by word-laden kelp.  Hit hard by a whale of a desire to catch up, I, of course pick out the most challenging (boring) books I can find.  One reason for this is to try and read as many of the "classics" as possible.  Even though I had the opportunity to read a couple of them in high school and college, I still always felt somewhat of a DUFUS because of the lack of being able to understand so many of the references and allusions written about or mentioned in many of my college lit classes.  I felt...deprived!
Having been “out to sea” with my latest book and neglecting my poor blog, I felt I must explain my absence (like anyone gives a patooty). Care to guess, with ALL THE HINTS, just what classic I have tackled as of late? That’s right (or – nope, sorry, wrong answer, depending on your response)! Moby Dick, Herman Melville’s sea sick sentiment of the whaling industry. OK, so “sea sick” might be a little too strong. Never-the-less, thus became my nightly ritual: lie down, set alarm for next morning, pick up copy of classic literary masterpiece (ball and chain), and read until my eyes fell heavy with complete exhaustion (boredom) which took all of a couple of pages (1 page), bob head at least 4 times (waking with confusion), then relinquish the battle. Therefore, what would’ve taken the average novel completion time of a couple of weeks, took me more like two to three months. Depressing.
Though the experience, itself, did not strip me of an actual appendage, leaving me hunting the monster (novel) that was getting the best of me (as Moby took Ahab's leg); I was left with a feeling of complete exhaustion as if I had survived a shipwreck. On a lighter note, I also came away with a greater respect and knowledge of the whaling industry of Melville’s time (actually, I feel more like a guest at that hotel chain that promises you get a better deal through them and leave a wiser person!). I feel as if I could go a’whaling now!  Not that I'd want to...it was really rather gross!  I am proud to have gotten this one classic under my belt, so to say, and no longer stare at it on my “to read” list. I’m no longer chasing my white whale; I have captured (and killed) the poor thing! Unlike the anguished Ahab, poor bugger, I have returned to shore in one piece without sacrificing my whole ship, crew, and soul in the process (although I did notice that my kids were begging for food out by the road and their clothes looked a bit "shabby" the other day)! So, yeah, you know it’s comin’ - just call me…..Ishmael (the tortured reader)!