Well,
   I think many of you know my daily routine. I work in the morning. The only place I go is to our little hardware store. It's a small town-- kinda like a local country store "hang out." Anyhow, often times, I bring "my boys" lunch. (Oh, the store's a little over a mile from my house). Then, I come home--- unless they're busy, in which case I stay to work.
   Around four I go back to the store until we close at six.
Anyhow, my best friend, Danny, owns the store. His kids are often in the store. One of them has asked, "Why are you always reading?  Why do you do that?"
"Well, I like to learn things. You learn things by reading."
That didn't sell them on the whole reading thing.
    Yesterday, Noel said, "You know, you have too many wrenches."
"I do?"
"Yes. You have that WHOLE ROOM that's nothing but tools."
"Well, you spend too much time without reading."
I wanted to say, "well, you have too many shoes. You play too many video games. .....ect."
But, I'm glad to say, that girl's a tomboy.... she doesn't have too many shoes, and she doesn't play video games. So, I guess I'm out of luck.
"Well, maybe you're right."

As for my family, I can still tell them, "At least I don't collect cars. None of you have any room to talk."
cheers, bird

The thing about reading is that you get to listen to people you will never meet.  It's not the same as sitting down with them over a glass of wine or a mug of beer, but you do get to hear what they have, or had, to say.  You get the wealth of thoughts, insights, instructions, and understandings of the centuries.  The very stuff of life.  Nothing else quite does this. 

Chaucer has such insight into human behavior, often in amusing language.  "I reckon this isn't worth a flea fart." is as good an estimation of worthlessness as any I've ever heard , and he wrote it in 1382.  Reading the Voyages of Wulfstan and Othero, from their report to King Alfred in the 9th Century, I could almost feel the ocean spray coming over the deck of their Long Boat as I listened to them describing the strange people and land they encountered -- in what is now Denmark, but was then nearly a wilderness. 

Books are worlds.  Reading takes you to those other worlds.