So I finally poked my head out of my inbox and found out that John Updike has died. He was the same age my grandfather was when he died. It was strange growing up going to church with my dad and stepmom at the same church that Updike was (nominally) a member of. He manned the booksale table one year at the annual church fair. I bought a copy of "The Omen" from him for a quarter. I remember that he took a good skeptical look at the cheesy mid-eighties foil-embossed paperback cover and then looked at me and said "You sure you really want this one?". I was old enough to recognize him from some book jackets I had seen, but young enough to be saucy so I shrugged and said "Yeah, it looks really scary!" He took my quarter and sent me on my way.
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