Mr. Brian is trying desperately to convince me of the value of learning Braille. I refuse to even contemplate it. (To learn Braille would be to acknowledge the reality that one day I am going to be one of these blind freaks.) 

“Ricky,” Mr. Brian says, “Braille will open you up to a world of books. You need to learn it.”  

I pick up one volume of the weighty Braille Bible, which is printed in 17 thick volumes. Stacked one on top of another, the entire Bible set stands about three feet tall. “Mr. Brian, I’d need a wheelbarrow to carry one book! How stupid is that? No Braille for me, period. Please don’t ask me again!”