RIP Robert B. Parker

I can’t think of many books that've meant as much to me as “Mortal Stakes” did the summer I read and re-read it, when I was 11 or 12 years old.

Same goes for “A Catskill Eagle,” read a decade or so later, during three days in bed with the flu.

I’ve only read half a dozen of the Spenser books, so I can’t say I’ve kept up with Robert B. Parker. But, Christ, who did?

And I was never as fond of Spenser as Parker kept nudging me to be -- but I can say the same thing about John D. MacDonald and Travis McGee, and I’ve never let Travis McGee stand in the way of my enjoyment in reading John D. MacDonald.

I started reading “The Judas Goat” last night. I’ve got to cut this short, so I can get back to it. You know that feeling.

Godspeed, man.

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