When I go back and watch a Spielberg film from the late 70s or early 80s, it has a certain look and feel to it – a tone that is instantly recognizable. When I watch a sitcom from the 80s, it has a singular cadence that instantly puts me at ease, and prepares me to have my problems solved in 30 minutes or less. When I play a video game from the late 70s or early 80s, it makes my fingers itch for a quarter. And, when I read one of the books I loved when I was a teenager, it brings back the pure joy I would find in losing myself in another time and another place. I spend so much time thinking about what I read now; it’s becoming more and more rare for me to find that unadulterated escape in a book anymore. I found it when I read “Ready Player One” – and I loved it.