On Tuesdays, Vicki, ( I’d Rather Be At The Beach) hosts First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros where readers post the opening paragraph (or 2 ) of a book they are reading or that they plan to read.
This is my second book this month that takes place at least in part in 1969 - 50 years ago. The last book was, Summer of 69; Elin Hilderbrand - loved it but no review yet.
1969 - 50 years ago: Woodstock, Bobby Kennedy assassination, Vietnam war, Apollo moon landings, the last Beatles concert and so many more memorable events. I was in high school in then - definitely old enough to remember what a wild year it had been.
Today's featured book is a story about 3 male friends (all 66 years old in the present). The story also flashes back to 1969 and something that happened back then....I'm about 50% through and it's really a good story by a talented author.
Chances Are; Richard Russo
Knopf-2019
Prologue
The three old friends arrived on the island in reverse order, from farthest to nearest: Lincoln, a commercial real estate broker, practically cross-country from Las Vegas; Teddy, a small-press publisher, from Syracuse; Mickey, a musician and sound engineer, from nearby Cape Cod. All were sixty-six years old and had attended the same liberal arts college in Connecticut where they'd slung hash at a campus sorority. The other hashers, invariably frat boys, claimed to be there by choice, because so many of the Thetas were hot, whereas Lincoln, Teddy and Mickey were scholarship students doing the job out of varying degrees of economic necessity. Lincoln, as good-looking as any of the frat boys, was immediately made a face man, which meant donning a scratchy white waist-length jacket serve the girls in the sorority's dining room. Teddy, who worked at a restaurant during his junior and senior years of high school, became a cook's helper, making salads, stirring sauces, plating entrees and desserts. Mickey? They took one look and escorted him over to a sink where a mountain of dirty pots sat piled alongside a large cardboard box of off-brand steel scrubbers. Such was their freshman year. By the time they were seniors, Lincoln has made head hasher and could offer both his friends positions in the dining room. Teddy, who'd had enough of the kitchen, promptly accepted, but Mickey said he doubted there was a serving jacket big enough to fit him. Anyway, he preferred remaining a kitchen slave to making nice with the fancy girls out front, since at least the galley was his own."
Does this seem like one you'd want to read?
