Something I guess I should've known before picking this one up is that it's kind of for beat completionists only, cause Cassady here just writes about his childhood and memories of growing up- it's not the standard Kerouac cross-country adventures nor the crazy psychedelic writings of Burroughs. But regardless, it's still good. The memoir itself is roughly only a hundred pages if you exclude his 40 page tale of family history. Cassady was an incredibly fascinating guy, still a little sad we really only got to hear about his childhood and not like, what happened after that (Well, I guess you kinda do if you read all of the "fragments" and letters and extra stuff). Anyway, I like long sentences, this guy is great at describing stuff, too.