Today we have a special visit from the man behind the Read Aloud Dad blog. And here he is . . .
Um, wait. There’s a story behind this photo. Read Aloud Dad explains . . .
“I don’t blog under my read name, as I felt it could become a distraction from the message. One of my goals when I started blogging was to promote the idea of fathers reading aloud to their kids. Not a specific father like me — I wanted every father to identify with the idea of “Read Aloud Dad.” Think about it. I could be your next door neighbor, your boss at work, a college friend from Detroit, the pizza delivery guy, George Clooney, the governor of your state. It doesn’t matter. Read Aloud Dad can be virtually anyone; there’s nothing stopping fathers from reading to their kids. As regards the photo above — my decision from the outset was to remain anonymous, so long ago I chose a random photo that I found and saved for an occasion such as this. No one ever asked for it yet!”
Five Things About Me as a Young Reader
by Read Aloud Dad
1. Kiki the Parrot
The Island of Adventure is THE book that got me hooked on reading.
I don’t know how it got into our house. I don’t know who bought it. I don’t know why. But that book was a game changer. Reading was never the same again. Enid Blyton’s The Island of Adventure is the first book in her Adventure Series and it begins with a young Philip Mannering being called by a rude voice that talks to him while he is doing algebra problems under a tree. The voice belongs to Kiki the parrot, who in turn belongs to Jack Trent. Kiki became a personal guru of mine at the tender age of six — my mom still remembers how I ran around the house telling everyone what Kiki thinks about life.
2. Enid Blyton
I cannot overstate the importance that Enid Blyton’s books had on my reading habits. I remember how my brother and I went for a summer to Royal Leamington Spa and how we spent all our pocket money on Blyton books. In fact, a family friend gave us GBP200 to take home to our parents and we spent it all on fun and paperbacks! If you remember seeing two young teenage boys dragging suitcases as heavy as anvils in the early 80’s at Heathrow Airport — that was probably us, lugging our beloved Enid Blyton books.
3. Our home library
I did not live in English-speaking countries for part of my childhood. We traveled around and good English-language books were scarce. So scarce, in fact, that our home collection was more valuable than gold. It was the only barrier between me and my brother and total boredom. We read and reread t
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