Pothole is to Hawaii as Bus is to ????

The regular bus driver knows where the potholes are.  Just as we approach my stop – 42^nd Street for 2 or 3 blocks – the right lane is like the surface of the moon.  The regular driver takes it slowly, which I don’t mind, as getting to work is not a big moment in my day.

Today we had a substitute driver.  He did not slow down.  We all have bumps on our heads from bouncing on the roof. 

The Songs of Distant Earth by Arthur C. Clarke:  I don’t read much science fiction (at least, not much written after 1900 – H.H. Wells rocks!) 

And this did nothing to whet my appetite.  In fact, I can’t figure out what the point is, other than to give Clarke a chance to expound on why he doesn’t like religion.

There’s a planet that is kind of like Hawaii, all perfect and everything, on which refugees from a doomed Earth landed hundreds of years ago and established a quite benign civilization.  Suddenly, more refugees from Earth, who left after the first ones but in a faster ship, show up on their way to colonize a more distant planet. They pick up supplies – mostly, ice.  Then they leave.

Great story, huh?

I expect more satisfaction from my next book:  Graham Greene’s The End of the Affair.