Hooray For Book Club

I realize I don't talk about my book club very much here. Not sure why that is, because my book club is a pretty wonderful thing.

Membership varies, but usually we are about 8 women strong. Sometimes as many as 10, sometimes as little as 6. Usually the only reason someone drops out is because they move away. I've been a member for pretty much as long as I've lived in California, which I suppose is now 11 years or so, maybe more. Everyone in the group has been in the club for a very long time; I think the shortest membership (currently) is about 2 years.

We read just about anything, mostly novels, but some nonfiction too. We have a rotating schedule, and whoever's turn it is to host gets to pick the book. We meet once a month at the host's house (or sometimes at a restaurant or park for a picnic). Our meetings last anywhere from 3 to 5 hours, depending on how everyone is feeling and what we are talking about. Sometimes if a movie has been made from the book, we will watch it either at the host's house, or if it's in the theater, we'll go see it all together. We have an unofficial, self-designated secretary who keeps track of our books, schedule, and also has an awesome map of where all our books are set (we are working our way around the globe!).

We all like food, so a book club dinner is usually not something you want to miss. However, if you do miss a few meetings, it's no big deal. Our policy is this: just keep coming back! If you didn't read the book, it doesn't matter -- just show up anyway! Have to skip a few meetings because of life craziness? No biggie, just come when you can. Rules for membership are pretty loose.

Tonight we discussed Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro. Everyone liked the book but thought it was very disturbing. Which it was. We had a great discussion about the implications (which I can't go into, because if you haven't read the book then it will give away the secret!). We had individual vegetarian pot pies and chocolate cake, with appetizers of cheese and olives and steamed asparagus. I got to use all my pretty dishes (and then, sadly, had to wash all those pretty dishes by hand. Whenever I host book club, I really wish I had a dishwasher). Our next book is The Lace Reader, which sounds really fun.

We have been through a lot together. Babies, marriages, divorces, cancer scares, illness, good times and hard times. We see each other once a month (generally) but get together in different configurations for other events or socializing as well. We are all good, close friends. We are a little book-centric family. I absolutely love being a part of my book club and I feel so lucky to have all these amazing, smart women as friends. It's pretty awesome to get together with a group of sharp women and have an intelligent conversation about a book (and often, many other offshoot topics). We are not afraid to disagree with one another, which I also love.

So, hooray for Book Club! Anna, Nicki, Vanessa, Krista, Gina, Mary Jane, Amanda, and all the other book club members from years past: you are the best. May all our books be good picks, our dinners delicious, and our friendship strong.

impressive

I was in an impressively bad mood today. I'm not sure why. The day didn't start off so bad (except for the fact that I had to leave our nice cozy warm bed). But, pretty soon after that, it started to go downhill.

It was like I was possessed, or had a demon temporarily (I hope) living inside me. It was sort of satisfying in its completeness. I was completely grumpy. Crabby. Irritable. Bad Mood Central. Giving off bad vibes (I'm sure). A Very Bad Bad Bad Mood.

I could make some guesses, I suppose, as to the origin of this incredibly bad mood, but instead I will just admire it for its audacity. I rather like a really good bad mood every now and again. I find that actually it helps me see clearly (sometimes). For instance: I could see, very clearly, during a meeting today, that what we were talking about was a complete moot point. This thing, which we were talking about, was never going to happen. Usually, you know, you try to sort of go along with things, make the road smoother, do what Needs To Be Done. But today? That little demon inside was having none of it. "This is baloney," it said (to itself, thankfully).

See? Kind of satisfying.

I got an offer to have another babysitting client. I don't think I want another babysitting client, actually. I think I would rather make my silly graphic design website, which is incredibly difficult for some reason. I thank my bad mood for pointing this out to me: I have plenty of kids now, thank you. No need for more. I like the ones I (occasionally) see and that's good enough. I would do better spending my time charging far more, for graphic design.

I really needed to be home tonight, for a variety of reasons. Instead, I am at someone else's house, taking care of their (very cute) kid. My bad mood clearly points out: You needed to be home. Do what you need to do to be home more.

Got it.

Every once in awhile, bad moods are actually quite constructive. I'm feeling better now, but I'd really really like to be home. Where I need to be.

Book: Don't Hassel The Hoff

Ok, it would be a lie to say that I "read" this book... I read pages and sections but mostly skimmed it. It was pretty much unreadable. Clearly The Hoff did not use a ghost writer. Or, he used a really bad one. But given the massive weight of the HasselEgo, I'm guessing this is 100% pure Hoff.

As part of my new quest to review temptingly bad books (the kind that we so often scoff at and pass by, but not before stealthily flipping through a few pages), I'm starting off with Don't Hassel The Hoff, by none other than The World's Most-Watched TV Star himself, David Hasselhoff. Who doesn't know who David Hasselhoff is? He first met success as Dr. Snapper Foster on The Young and the Restless in the 70s. Then, his groundbreaking, action-packed (yet family-friendly) show Knight Rider was a super hit in the 80s. In the 90s, the uber-California Baywatch was shown in nearly every country around the globe. Mr. Hasselhoff was also an international rock star by this time as well, although he remained generally unknown to the elusive American music market. Nowadays he spends his time on Broadway, visiting dying children, and visiting the fine folks at Betty Ford.

In this autobiography, The Hoff shows that he is "much more than a hunk with a great tan and blue eyes (who can still fit into tight leather pants)"... or, let's see, is he "more than a guy who talked to a car, more than a guy in red Speedos running in slow motion across a beach"?

He is. He is much more than all of that. He is The Hoff. The Man With A Tan. The Hoffster. Friend of Liberace, Princess Diana and Lou Rawls. A rock star with more than 20 albums (including Night Rocker, Lovin' Feelings, Everybody Sunshine and More Than Words Can Say). The man gets around.

A few of my favorite quotes (not including the awesome one about the avocado tree and the wiener):

"When people stop me in the street today, nine times out of ten it's because of Knight Rider. It was a show about heroes, about a man who could change things, about a man who helped others. The Knight Rider slogan was, "One man can make a difference." I truly believe that I got the role of Michael Knight for a reason. I was given a power that could be used in a positive way, far greater than anyone could imagine, to help sick and terminally ill people, mainly children who watched the Knight Rider programme and believed in its hero."

Don't you like how he spelled "programme" with the extra M and E at the end? It makes it look more international, don't you think?

"I had been in South Africa for only twenty-four hours when I noticed that black South Africans would always shake my hand in such a way as to show they had no weapons up their sleeve. I walked on to a segregated bus, even though people warned me not to. I said to myself, "Hasselhoff can't go on that bus but Michael Knight can." To the consternation of the security guards, I boarded the bus. Every passenger was black and they began hugging and kissing me; everyone wanted to shake my hand."

International bringer of peace! Risking his life for international camaraderie!

"I accepted an offer from K-tel to make a new album entitled Lovin' Feelings, a complilation of love songs that was a complete change of pace from Night Rocker. Having succeeded in selling items like non-stick pans on television, K-tel was now marketing albums of past and present hits to consumers through flashy, high-powered TV advertising campaigns. Lovin' Feelings was to follow this formula. I would cover songs such as, "Always On My Mind," "Stand By Me," and "How Deep Is Your Love," plus a couple of numbers in Spanish to attract the big Hispanic market."

Bringing quality music to the masses!

"With bombastic sound and heavy fog, suddenly the door of a pyramidal tent, made of white satin, opens up. Slowly KITT rolls on stage and David is standing on his roof in a black leather outfit and playing a red guitar. He starts to sing the first song from his first LP, Night Rocker. Then he slowly slides down to the ground and asks, "Would you please say hi to my friend?" The whole hall was raging. The red light in front of KITT starts to blink, a sign that he wants to say something. The crowd is screaming, "We love you KITT!" and KITT answers, "I love you, too!" Then KITT starts reporting about their trip to Austria in German. He even teases David, "Hey David, why don't you speak German?"

You can feel the impact of his awesomeness even in third person!!

"Playing the ditzy blonde bimbo for all it was worth, Pamela (Anderson) soon had the press eating out of her hand. "I'll melt if you put me too near the radiator," she giggled. "I think I've got Tourette's syndrome, I love to talk about sex so much." The real Pamela was a clever little self-promoter. "A lot of people seem to think I'm just two boobs walking around," she said, "but I know what I'm doing." In her spare time, she meditated and read Carl Jung. She kept crystals in her trailer as a means of producing good karma and brought her golden retriever Star on the set for good luck. She was a free spirit, part rock chick, part earth mother."

And a darned nice girl, too. Perhaps a student of The Hoff school of self-promotion?

David Hasselhoff. What hasn't he done? He single-handedly created the success of Knight Rider by touring with a black Trans Am (um, for decades, apparently). He satisfied his legions of fans by routinely carrying signed pictures of himself to hand out in the streets as he walked to work (so thoughtful!). He flirted with Princess Di at her charity function (lover-boy!). He had Liberace over to dinner at his parents house (tolerant!). He is The Man. He saves children's lives.

Well, he doesn't really do that, but he answers their dying wishes by bringing Michael Knight to sick children the world over.

After a healthy skim of Don't Hassel The Hoff, a few things are clear:

1. David Hasselhoff is a powerhouse of self-promotion.

2. He is not unaware of his status as a kitsch icon, and seems to have a sense of humor about it.

3. He has a massive ego.

4. He truly believes that Michael Knight and KITT were sent from Heaven to help save the children.

5. Even SpongeBob loves The Hoff. How can you not love The Hoff?

(all snarkiness aside, he seems to do an amazing amount of sick-children visits)

One closing line:

"...with my wiener dogs in tow, I walked down the drive of my home in my underpants to get the newspapers. ... (after reading the headline) I looked down at my wieners and said, "This isn't a good sign."

I leave you with The Hoff and one of his wieners. Enjoy!

Pink Princess Tea Party Cupcakes

Really, what else is there to say?

avocados and wieners

Ok, so I'm reading (I say reading but really I'm skimming... quickly...) Don't Hassel The Hoff, by The World's Best-Known Actor, David Hasselhoff.

I can't wait to review it; I'm sure I won't be able to do it justice. However, this paragraph had me howling and I just had to share:

"All through the New Year of 1986 I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself and looking out of my window at my avocado tree. Suddenly, I decided to go to a pet store and buy a wiener dog -- I'd always wanted a wiener and I bought one. I brought him home and said, "Well, Wiener, it's you and me against the world."

I think I have to stop for the night, but I hope David and his wiener were very happy together.

As an aside, not sure if you were aware that during the run of Knight Rider, Hasselhoff released his first record: Night Rocker. Oh yes. You know you want it.

...funny you should say that...

From my favorite astrology site:

"I need a break from watching you work your psyche to the bone. At least for now, I'm not willing to indulge you in your inclination to do your duty so exhaustively that you suffer. And as much as I admire your drive to get things perfect, I cannot in good conscience encourage you to do that, either. It is therefore with a sense of relief that I counsel you to take at least a week off from the behavior I described. Instead, try playful, messy experiments that are in service to your own needs. Be a freewheeling explorer, a wandering improviser. "

Oh, this makes me laugh. Who, me? Doing my (imagined) duty exhaustively? Nah.

Sigh.

The good news is that I've started painting again. Perhaps in a precog moment, I decided to try something different and do some abstract stuff. Inspired by, of all things, an ad for Cost Plus, I'm having a lot of fun with this new direction. Pictures to come soon.

It's been a weird week at work, and an overly thought-filled week at home (too many things to think about, not enough time to just BE). Although I have lots to do this weekend, I'm going to try to have fun with it all. Let's see here. In direct opposition to the horoscope imploring me to not plan stuff, here is what I've got planned:

* some painting

* a walk

* some babysitting (and working on a personal design website)

* making princess cupcakes for dear friend's daughter

* tea with an old friend

That's not too much, right? Mostly fun stuff, and Monday completely free.

Also to add: take stock of current TBR situation. I have to return some books to the library and get some new ones. I'm also attempting to read my first "So Bad It's..." book: Don't Hassel The Hoff. I don't know if I'll be able to read it through, but I'll give it a good skim. Plenty of bad review material already! Unintentionally hilarious! Poor David Hasselhoff.

Book: Blankets

Hot on the heels of fantastic novel #1 (Never Let Me Go), we have Fantastic Novel #2, a graphic novel this time. Oh, what a beautiful piece of art this book is.

I'm not really into graphic novels per se. I like a few (Strangers in Paradise, Sandman), but I haven't really gotten into them as a thing.

You definitely do not have to be a fan of graphic novels to be incredibly, deeply moved by this lovely, lovely story of first love, growing up, bonding between siblings, religious journeys and the inevitable pain of all of it.

So many other people have written incredible, eloquent reviews of Blankets, and I don't know what I could say that would add to the adoration.

* Lu

* Stefanie

* Ana

As Ana says, "Dear friends who haven't read Blankets yet: please read it right now. I'm serious. And if you're thinking, "Could it possibly be as good as everyone says it is?", the answer is yes - as good, if not better."

I took her advice (and everyone else's) and I'm so glad I did. The story is incredibly touching. The art is wonderful. The story arcs are simple and clean and absorbing... it was crazy easy to read this in one sitting, completely blocking out the rest of the world.

Craig Thompson is the narrator (and author and artist) in this autobiographical account of growing up sharing a bed with his little brother (hilarious, moving, sad, scary, wonderful) and then later, falling in love for the first time, sharing a bed with someone for the first time (hilarious, moving, sad, scary, wonderful). The anguish and tension of first love, being a teenager, struggling with questions of faith and friendship and love and growing up.

Since everyone else has written such amazing things about it (and I'm very tired tonight and can't seem to pull up the words I want to write), just a few personal thoughts about it.

While I didn't have to sleep in the same bed as my little brother, we did have a great time having 'sleepovers' in each other's room sometimes, which I now look back on as such sweet, fun times. He and I both also battled a terrific fear of the dark (ghosty house), sleepwalking (sometimes in tandem), and developed a keen eye for looking out for each other as we navigated childhood camping, fishing, skiing, etc. Now both in our 30s (crazy) we are very close. The sequences about wanting to protect his little brother (and sometimes, not being able to) just shot me right through the heart. I love my brother intensely and the painful scenes in Blankets just made me want to weep.

I'm sure everyone's first experience with love is different, but I think everyone can find something to identify with as Craig and his friend Raina fall in love. That intensity, the narrow focus of only each other, the deep longing and joy. And the inevitable heartbreak when maybe somebody isn't on the same page as you. More tears.

A big thick, hefty chunk of a graphic novel, I wanted more when it was over. I might even have to read it again before it goes back to the library.

Book: Never Let Me Go (edited)

Oh, how I wish I could write eloquently enough to describe this beautiful, sad, strange, utterly absorbing novel.

Unfortunately, even if I could, there is a terrible dark secret that is revealed slowly over time, and it would be awful to spill the beans if anyone hasn't read it yet.

The students of Hailsham, a boarding school of sorts, are special. They have a special role to play in society, and are shielded from the rest of the world. They spend their days studying art and poetry, sharing secrets in the dorms, and struggling to navigate the ins and outs of friendship and love.

However, just below the idyllic boarding school scene runs a dark undercurrent. Like the Hailsham students themselves, we are slowly "told but not told" the secret. At first, you can't quite believe what your brain knows to be true. It seems unthinkable. As more and more is revealed, the sense of horror grows just under the beautifully written relationship drama.

However, this is far from a horror novel. It reminds me very strongly of The Handmaids Tale, that favorite (but horrible) Atwood novel. On the surface, it's beautifully written, full of longing and melancholy, lovely English countryside scenes, complex friendships. But the shadow that lurks... weaves its way through the story... we are never able to quite break contact with the shadow.

I wish I could write more about this book, but I really can't without revealing too much. The complicated friendship between the protagonist, Kathy, and her best friend, Ruth, and their close friend Tommy, is rich and layered, often painfully true to life. The melancholy theme of 'never let me go' runs parallel to the dark shadow... both of them interweaving through the story. The friends are inseparable, until, inevitably, life separates them.

Unfortunately I had to return the book to the library, because there was more I wanted to write but I can't remember the specific parts, but I can write about my reaction to what I read. I found this book to be deeply affecting. The sense of futility and loss, so closely tied to the beauty of friendship and love, was heartwrenching. When I finished, I closed my eyes, let it wash over me, walked out into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and then stood at the sink and cried. It took a few minutes for the full impact of the story to sink in and hit me. It has stayed with me and I find myself drifting into Hailsham melancholy at odd moments.

So beautiful and sad. I loved it. I now need to read Remains of the Day, also by Ishiguro.

** edited to add: I was thinking about it this morning and this book took me a few chapters to get into. It's told in this beautiful, slow, slightly hazy way, and while that works incredibly well, it took a little while for me to get into it. I liked it, but I wondered what what going on, where all this was going, in its meandering way. The rest of the book unfolds in these beautiful gentle leaps and plays between present and past, always folding and refolding and unfolding and finally blooming open.

The other thing I was thinking about was how incredibly masterful the storytelling is. By the end of the book, you are devastated. But all along the way, you are somehow buoyed into this gentle, peaceful sense that it's all somehow okay (although you know it really isn't, somewhere deep down, you know this isn't going anywhere good... although the journey there is beautiful... and maybe that's kind of part of the point of the book?).

A short update

Sorry for the radio silence... been awfully busy lately.

However, we did our first official drive-by yesterday! That was fun. And informative. There were some beautiful 3-bedroom lofts in Oakland that had recently been reduced by $50,000 (!!) so we drove by to see what they were like.

The lofts themselves looked very modern/industrial/arty from the outside, which I like in theory, but I think we are more Craftsman-cottage type people. (we didn't go inside) Anyway, the downside was the presence of several, let us say, houses of ill-repute, scattered all up and down the street. In Oakland parlance: crack houses.

Hence the rapid $50k price reduction (I am guessing)

Still, it was fun to take Step One on this journey and to see what's out there. I drove by another cute house today and although the street was very cramped and the neighborhood on the 'transitional' side, the house was freaking ADORABLE. So this gives me hope.

Reading Never Let Me Go, and having a difficult time stopping. So good. Reminds me of The Handmaid's Tale... more about that once I finish it.

A Sartorial Tale

I got a really nice, long, straight, brown skirt at the thrift shop over the weekend. I thought it needed boots.

I also found a few tops that I thought would look good with skinny jeans.

I didn't have boots or skinny jeans. However, boots + skinny jeans would be great, right?

So I looked online, found some great brown boots for a good price, and ordered them.

They came today; they looked pretty good when I tried them on at work. At least I *thought* so.

I went out after work and tried on 10 or 12 pairs of skinny jeans before FINALLY finding a pair. They're black. My boots are brown. First problem.

I got home and showed Terri the jeans. She loved them. Then I tried them on with the boots. She did not love that. Then I tried on the jeans with flats. Two thumbs up.

Boots with any other combination got a solid thumbs down. In fact, the boots themselves got a thumbs down. Second problem.

But then, I found a pair of brown boots in my closet, behind the clothes (I have a very small closet).

And a pair of black boots.

Oh. So maybe I have no problem?

The moral of this story is: shopping is hard. And trying on skinny jeans is not for the faint of heart. And maybe I'm not cut out for skinny jeans plus boots.

But now I have cute skinny jeans. And the boots are going back.

I believe this warrants a "SQUEEEEEEEE!!!!"

From the home-buying counseling agency:

"Based on reviewing the homebuyer counseling worksheet (and your credit report), it appears that you are an excellent prospect for home ownership."

I'm having a hard time keeping a lid on it.

Some Updates

It's been a little quiet over here lately so I thought I would post a few updates.

* I've been incredibly busy with freelance work/jobs, which is great, but keeps me, well, busy. And then when I'm not busy, I'm really tired and needing to just veg. Also it's been cold and rainy, which I like, but not exactly beckoning me out to hike or whatever. So mostly, I've been working or doing not much at all.

* I've also been doing a low-key wheat-and-dairy-free thing for the past 2-3 weeks (seems like FOREVER). It's mostly for my tummy and energy levels, to see if it makes a difference. I think it *has,* because I feel less sleepy during the day (well, sometimes) and my stomach is happier. However, that doesn't mean that I'm happier. Dang, I didn't realize how much I rely on both wheat and dairy. Cutting out one (either) isn't so hard, but both at the same time is really difficult. I've been craving a burrito... it's not so hard to have a dairy-free burrito, but a wheat-free tortilla is a step further. Or a sandwich... but do I really want to spend $6 on a gluten-free loaf, just so I can have a sandwich (which wouldn't have any cheese, so what's the point) or a piece of toast? Sigh. Actually this wouldn't so bad except that I've been so busy that I haven't really been planning very well, so mostly I'm running around with that sort of hungry-sick feeling and not able to think very clearly about what I could be eating. I had veggie Pad Thai last night, and that was good, and today I had some guacamole (for Super Bowl viewing, not that I watched the game)... but since I'm the only one eating much in the house right now, it's hard to plan meals. And planning wheat-and-dairy-free meals (for one person) is taking a little more gumption than I seem to have at the moment.

* The reason why I'm the only one eating much in the house is because Terri had her endoscopy last Monday to see what's going on with her tummy. She's been having bad stomach pains since November, and has lost a ton of weight because she can't find anything to eat that doesn't hurt her stomach. So anyway, had the endoscopy, and looks like at least some gastritis. We'll get more information this week. Since Monday, she has been in a terrible crash and hasn't been able to leave the house (or barely get out of bed). Has had awful digestive issues and pains, and hasn't been able to eat much other than Gatorade, a little bit of rice, bananas, maybe some applesauce, and... yeah, that's about it. So she's literally not eating very much at all, so between sort of trying to help her figure out what to eat (or not), and having to puzzle out wheat/dairy-free eating for me, and being so busy... yeah. Not really thinking too clearly, and not doing very much meal-planning.

* In other news, I hope to hear from the home-buyer agency this week about what's the next steps for figuring out house-buying stuff. I'm very excited about this, even if they say we need to wait a little longer (for whatever reason). Just putting the wheels in motion is so excellent. I can't even think about moving (and leaving our wonderful neighborhood, wah!!). But looking at houses? Sounds like fun.

So, that's about it. I've been trying to read my book club book (Never Let Me Go, Ishiguro), but wow, I am pretty overwhelmed and all I can seem to manage to read are some Smithsonian magazine articles. Or, if I'm being totally honest, flipping through Better Homes and Gardens...

I'm hoping that after this week, I will feel a little more myself. I'll have a bunch of projects wrapped up, and will find some time to plan decent menus for myself, and we'll know what to do for Terri's tummy... but in the meantime, I'm a little overwhelmed, and really hungry. I really want a piece of Brie, a brownie, and a big toasted cheese sandwich. Sigh.

Book: Tales of the City

Sorry to disappoint the bad-review fans, but this book was SO MUCH FUN.

Many people have told me that Tales of the City was a total trip, so silly and fun and gossipy and local (if you're in the Bay Area, that is). It's all true! SO much fun, so SEVENTIES. Oh my goodness, so seventies.

I loved it. I loved every single chapter.

I loved the adorable snarky queeny gay characters.

I loved the fag hags.

I loved the mysterious and generous (ahem) landlady. And her sweet romance.

I loved the naive newcomers and their perceptions of this freewheeling crazy city by the bay.

I loved the gossipy, bitchy, privileged society couples.

I just loved every page.

It was really fun to read this after having lived here for over 10 years now (wow), because I am very familiar with all the landmarks, some of the history, the neighborhoods. Apparently this was written as a series of columns, very current. Armistead Maupin, the author, was able to work in current events, so I can imagine how much fun it would be to read this each week or month or however often it was published. San Francisco in the 1970s?!? I don't necessarily wish I lived it, but it sure was fun to read about.

If The Bourne Identity was unintentionally amusing because of the dated technology, Tales of the City was a time capsule of the mid-1970s and was so far behind any sort of technology at all that it was completely charming. These two books have really made me question the place of technology in our everyday lives. I'm always sort of vaguely against modern technology, even though I use and love much of it (she writes, on her laptop, with wireless internet, with Blackberry charging in the other room...). Reading these two in a row has made me think hard about how much time I spend in front of the screen(s). I think I would feel much more human and centered if I spent more time in front of the canvas, or the page. I think I'm going to try to make some changes.

Anyway, I would love to quote this entire book, but here are a few that made me laugh out loud and made me very happy.

This one cracks me up for the non-ironic use of "boogie":

"... do you think I'm a fag hag?"

"What?"

"I do, I'm sure of it."

"You've been eating funny mushrooms again."

"I don't mind being a fag hag actually. There are worse things to be."

"You are not a fag hag, Mona."

"Look at the symptoms. I hang around with you, don't I? We go boogying at Buzzby's and The Endup. I'm practically a fixture at The Palms..."
"Mona..."

"Hell, Mouse! I hardly know any straight men anymore!"
"You live in San Francisco."

...They ate dinner at Pier 54, boogied briefly at Buzzby's, and arrived back at Barbary Lane at ten-thirty."

That phrase, "boogied briefly," cracks me up. I boogie, you boogie, we boogied, they boogied, we boogie together. Not danced. Boogied.

A few other choice bits:

"Mona's second-floor apartment was adorned with Indian wall hangings, assorted street signs, and Art Deco light globes. Her dining table was an industrial cable spool. Her armchair, a converted Victorian toilet."

"Maybe it was the light show or the rock ensemble... or the Afro-aphrodisia of the Reverend Willy Sessums, bojangling the bejeezus out of Third World Socialism. Or maybe it was the Quaalude she took at breakfast. Whatever. Today she felt mellow. Together. A karmic cog in the great, sway mechanisms of Glibb (Glide) Memorial. She sang out with the fervor of a Southern Baptist, flanked by a Noe Valley wood butcher and a Tenderloin drag queen in a coral prom gown."

"...I meet some person... male-type... at a bar or at the baths, and he seems really... what I want. A nice mustache, Levi's, a starched khaki army shirt... strong... then you go home with him to his house on Upper Market, and you try like hell not to go to the bathroom, because the bathroom is the giveaway, the fantasy-killer... It's the bathroom cabinet. Face creams and shampoos for days. And on top of the toilet tank they've always got one of those goddamn little gold pedestals full of colored soap balls!"

That last one cracked me up because my grandma had one of those little gold pedestals full of colored soap balls! I loved those when I was little, I was totally fascinated and desperately wanted a little soap ball of my own.

Ohhhhh, I loved this so much. I think I definitely have to read the next one. It's the perfect antidote to modern-day angst and worry and overwhelm. Have a Quaalude, smoke a joint, go do some boogying, go pick up a lovely gay man at the Market street Safeway for some rollerskating and then a hamburger at Hamburger Mary's. Now I think I have to go do a San Francisco Tales of the City landmark tour. And watch the show.

Book: The Bourne Identity

A little background information before we jump into the review:

I do not generally read thrillers. There are a few exceptions: I love the Pendergast novels (by Lincoln & Child), and... um, well that's all I can think of. And the reason I like those is because the main character is so quirky and compelling, and because there is usually an element of the supernatural involved at some point. I also don't really like thriller movies, but Terri convinced me that I would enjoy The Bourne Identity when it was released, and I did like all three of those. There's a certain category of thriller book and movie which Terri loves, which I refer to as "Man Movies" or "Man Books." They're the equivalent of romantic comedies or chick-lit books. Usually the cover features very strong fonts, and an explosion, and people looking serious, and maybe a woman with a gun. You know the type (see: featured cover above). Anyway, The Bourne Identity was definitely a Man Book, but it was maybe Man Book Lite.

However, Terri said I would enjoy this book, and my library doesn't have it for some reason, and I was at the airport and they had a really bad selection of books but they had this one, so that's why I ended up reading this.

If you've seen the movie, you know the premise (although how it plays out differs in the movies). A man wakes up in a foreign country, severely injured, with no idea who he is or where he is or what happened to him. Complete amnesia. But he very quickly realizes that he has skills no ordinary person should have: he's great with a gun, extremely resourceful, a master of disguises, has no problem killing when necessary, and seems to have a sixth sense about who's trying to kill him. Why they are trying to kill him becomes the real question.

I have no idea how to review a thriller, because it followed what I assume to be the pretty standard format: set up premise, insert lots of guns and bad guys, race around trying to outsmart said bad guys, shoot a lot of people, involve espionage in some way, throw in a deep undercover US government operation, maybe a beautiful woman, and a nemesis. Voila: the thriller.

Anyway, I'd like to point out that this was a REALLY LONG BOOK. It was almost 600 pages. So I liked it enough to keep reading, although towards the end I was definitely skimming. I really enjoyed the first parts, when he was discovering all these really cool spy skills, and travelling all over France and Switzerland, and the part about the Swiss bank was fun. By the time he met Marie (the beautiful woman), he was starting to piece together bits of his past... but he is never quite sure exactly who or what he is. That's the big mystery. And we aren't sure either (which is fun).

By the last third, I was really ready for him to find his nemesis and get it over with. Of course we know it's a trilogy, so things aren't quite resolved, but good enough. Frankly by that point I didn't really care, I was so tired of reading this book. I doubt I'll read the next two unless I'm stranded at the airport again, or if I really need a change of pace. I did enjoy it, but it's just not my thing.

However, the thing that really struck me was the Lack Of Cell Phones. After a little while I realized that he was always racing to the pay phone and fumbling for coins. Wha? I checked the pub date: 1980. Aha! From then on, it became very amusing to notice the dated bits. The cell phone thing was a big one. How did the people in thriller book ever manage before cell phones? They are always looking for parking places (or smashing cars, making a parking space) and dealing with out-of-order pay phones, or renting hotel rooms just to use the phone, or waiting impatiently by the phone, or setting up elaborate "I'll call you at 7:17 pm SHARP" phone-relay systems. I imagine the entire world of espionage was revolutionized by the cell phone.

The other thing that cracked me up was the "glowing green screen of the wall of computer monitors." Remember when all your monitor had was blinking glowing green text? And what a huge deal it was when color monitors appeared, even in rudimentary form? Anyway, there was a serious lack of technology in this book, which strangely I think helped me enjoy it more, since I wasn't glazing over with talk of nano-this and mega-that.

Also, the HUGE SUM OF MONEY he recovered from the Swiss bank was FOUR MILLION DOLLARS!! Ok, ok, I know, if I had four million dollars that would be a pretty big deal. But I guess thirty years ago, four million dollars was more... it was enough to set you up in style FOR LIFE. Or something. I can't really make the comparison. Wait... the handy-dandy inflation calculator says that 4 million bucks in 1980 would be over 10 million dollars now. So, okay. I guess that's a pretty good chunk of change. But the way they were talking about it was as if he'd somehow managed to get a billion dollars or something.

So, it was enjoyable, and the most enjoyable parts were chuckling at the technological advances we've made in the past 30 years. However, it was really long, and had way too much international government blah blah blah undercover blah blah blah disguises blah blah blah. I liked the main character a lot, and I loved the premise, and the first half or so of the book was really fun.

Maybe I'll try the next one... next year. Or something.

Coincidentally, the night I finished up the book, the movie was playing on TV. I had it on in the background just for a bit of comparison... seriously, that whole movie is BASED on cell phones.