Read, Not Red
Read’s parents–librarians–had not really thought through naming him “Read,” as in “he read the book,” not “Red,” the color. Those that got it couldn’t help saying in greeting “Well, Read . . .” The rest called him Reed when they saw his name tag at work. Then there was the old guy always sitting on the bench at the bus stop who handed out John Birch pamphlets and told him it was a shame that the McCarthy hearings had come to an end with Reds like him around . . .
