I remember -- belatedly, after a few suggestions to do so -- reading "Zen" the summer after I graduated. I rarely notate in a book, but that copy ended up full

I remember -- belatedly, after a few suggestions to do so -- reading "Zen" the summer after I graduated. I rarely notate in a book, but that copy ended up full of notes in the margins. At the time, I thought it was one of the most significant things I'd read. Of course, I was young, and it was a long time ago. (And then, life and injury and illness and... well, a distinct lack of quality happened, and I never got back to it.) I've been meaning, intending, lately, to reread it. Last year, I was invited into a book club. I've considered suggesting it -- I think I will. Quality. Eloquence, in a word. P.S. I've been thinking about getting a bike and riding for a summer. Adequate, but not overdone -- and quiet. Piece by piece, this rough idea has been sketching itself in. Don't know why I'm telling HN, this, or why you should care. Except that we all should care about quality. And about a man who thought and felt hard on the topic and in turn gave us much to think about. Reflected much of ourselves, to ourselves -- giving us eyes and ears into ourselves and our choices. Anyway...