At The Present Moment...

An ad promotion in this morning's newspaper made me realize that if you can even PONDER the possibility of buying a brand new car for your spouse as a Christmas present then it is highly unlikely you and I are in the same income bracket.

Hit List

(A FATHER-&-SON MOMENT)

"No... No, Jon (age 12.) I don't think it's keeping with the spirit of Christmas by getting you, as a present, either a choke wire or brass knuckles that leave an imprint of the word 'douche' on a person's face."

Too Literal

(AND YET ANOTHER FATHER-&-SON MOMENT WHILE DRIVING)

We were having a discussion about school. Zac was having difficulties in one of his classes.

I said, "Well, Zac, all of us have subjects we're not good at."

Zac replied, "For you, it's every subject."

"Bite me... AAAAAAHH!!!! You friggin' bit me (on my right arm!)"

"You said to."

"No more zombie books or movies for you."

BOOK REVIEW: Chicago's Chronic Curmudgeon

(Originally published 1983, Paperback edition 320 pages)

You don't read the late Mike Royko's columns in the hopes they will give you warm fuzzy feelings. You read Royko because of the great writing, blunt style and painfully funny observations. This collection of newspaper columns are from the years 1973 through 1982. So naturally, the curmudgeon takes potshots at Presidents Nixon, Ford, Carter and Reagan. The columnist was an old school newspaperman. He was a streetwise liberal who was also a heavy-drinking, chainsmoking gadfly pounding out his little works of art on an old manual typewriter.

The book is broken up into topics and the columns are not listed chronologically. This I found irksome. I would rather have had them arranged in the sequence they were originally printed. The main sections deal with bars and drinking (no surprise there), government bureaucracy, sports (primarily baseball), social trends, relationships and celebrities. There are obituaries for such notables as Chicago Mayor Richard Daley (1976) and John Wayne (1979.) I found a few of the 90-or-so short columns to be dry, but they were the exceptions and not the rule. The works are a time capsule to a decade where he was able to write about the streaking fad, leaving Vietnam, Watergate, racist George Wallace, gay Republicans, feminists, Prince Charles' and Lady Diana's wedding, Frank Sinatra, Bob Dylan and superficial Hollywood.

I broke out laughing at what many in today's society would deem politically-incorrect descriptions. From accurately calling Senator Jessie Helms a rock head, Phyllis Schlafly a national nag, and Jane Fonda flighty or using colorful labels such as grim-lipped biddies or faggot, Mr. Royko never pulled punches. Ultimately, it is why he's my favorite columnist. The guy was insightful and knew how to wade through the BS to find the truth. Practically every column is dripping with sarcasm and many of the columns could be applied to today's issues. Mr. Royko's pieces are like eating a nutritional hot fudge sundae. Excellent.

(Meyers - A few years ago, I started writing, under the pseudonym Franklin the Mouse, short reviews at Amazon's web site. This is my most recent review #330)

BOOK REVIEW: More Moore's Maniacal Misadventures

 

(Originally published 1997, Paperback edition 325 pages)

The protagonist of the story, Tucker "Tuck" Case, who is a pilot and not exactly the brightest bulb on the planet, is also dealing with low self-esteem issues. Before the story settles down on a remote, Pacific island named Alualu, it is littered with quite a few colorful, characters. Through a series of misadventures Tuck eventually winds up on the dinky island. The place is inhabited by a modern medical building, an airstrip, two odd "missionaries," six Japanese guards, over three-hundred natives called the Shark People and a talking fruit bat. Oh, and I almost forgot, a very old cannibal named Sarapul. If that isn't strange enough, there's a god called Vincent who the natives worship.

Mr. Moore reminds me of a literary version of the famed Coen Brothers who have created such odd, funny movies as Fargo and The Big Lebowski. I find the author's works very enjoyable simply because it's impossible to know how the story is going to unfold. Pretty much, it's the sky's the limit in Mr. Moore's hilarious novels. There is no taboo he isn't willing to skewer. Heck, I don't even assume that the main protagonist will not be killed somewhere in the middle of the story. The first two-thirds of this rollicking adventure is shrouded in the mystery as to why Tuck's faults are suited so well for being the island's pilot. The last third is wondering how it will be resolved.

The book had me laughing on page one and kept it up for the entire work. Mr. Moore certainly has a gift for colorful, hilarious prose. The author has become one of my go-to writers if I'm in urgent need of a light read that is chockfull of laughs. If you've never read a Christopher Moore novel, his fourth work is as good a place to start as any.

(Meyers - A few years ago, I started writing, under the pseudonym Franklin the Mouse, short reviews at Amazon's web site. This is my most recent review #329)

Hard To Digest

(AND YET, ANOTHER FATHER-&-SON MOMENT) 

While Jon and I were driving towards home, I held up the banana peel, started bobbing it up and down on the steering wheel and said, "Hey... Look, Jon. A banana spider."

Jon replied, "Dad, did you know there's such a thing as a Banana Spider?" 

"Really?"

"Yeah. They're really poisonous. The female spider crawls into a banana..."

"STOP! Stop right the fuck there. I don't want to hear it."

"No, Dad, it's interesting. The female spider..."

"STOP!!"

"... it crawls into the banana and lays its..."

"STOP, DAMN IT!"

"... its eggs."

"Thanks a friggin' lot, Jon. Now I'm gonna be freakin' out every time I bite into a banana."

"The eggs hatch while being transported to market and when a person peels the banana the baby spiders come out and bite you."

"Jesus Christ, Jon, I didn't need to hear that."

"The poison is really painful and it takes like two hours before you die."

"It's talks like this that make me regret adopting you guys."

Last Words

If I am fortunate to live a long life and a day comes where I hear someone tell me "We've found a nice nursing home for you," I dearly hope immediately after that sentence is uttered I have the mother-of-all brain aneurysms.