Book Review: The Da Vinci Code

I made reference to this review in my Northanger Abbey post earlier this week. I had heard so many things about this book, ranging from what an amazing page-turner it was to how it was the worst thing to happen to literature in the past decade. From the comments of many of the people whose opinions I respect, I was fairly sure going in that it would be unadulterated rubbish, but I was tired of being one of only fifteen people in existence that hadn't read it. I decided to pick up a copy from the library, and join the masses.

For those of you who aren't familiar with the concept, the book deals with the quest for the holy grail. Only, this grail is not like the one we have all heard about. We follow our hero, a symbologist from Harvard, on an elaborate treasure hunt laid out by the curator of the Louvre who has recently been murdered and whose granddaughter just happens to be an attractive cryptographer working for law enforcement in Paris, giving her intimate access to the case.

As our fearless protagonist runs around Europe attempting to interpret the clues left for him, we get to play along deciphering anagrams or shouting, "For crying out loud, it's an apple you morons!" at the book, when none of the characters seem to grasp the obvious. The author seemed to be quite enamored with himself and his cleverness throughout the book. He piles puzzle on top of riddle on top of anagram on top of massively absurd conspiracy theory. He even manages to put in a few hints in specifically for his readers--Thanks to Fashion Maven for pointing out that Bishop Auringarosa would translate roughly to Bishop Red Herring, which is exactly his purpose in the book (of course I thought it was that Communism was just a red herring, but that's way off task, sorry). If Brown were even remotely as clever as he believed, he probably could have come up with a plot that was more believable, and characters that made me care whether or not anyone followed through on the threat to shoot them. The end result of all of the plot twists and puzzles to be deciphered is a book as deep in plot and character development, about half as intellectually stimulating and not quite as fulfilling as a book of mind-bender puzzles from the bargain shelf at Barnes & Noble.

The writing style bordered on appalling, and much of the book was an exercise in exposition. A prime example of this is when we are introduced to Jacques Sauniere, curator of the Louvre, in the prologue of the book. We will have plenty of time to get to know more about him later, so is there really any reason to tell us in the middle of a scene in which he is being murdered about his exact age? Why not worry about getting the scene right and fill us in on the details later. I'm not saying that I am capable of writing anything better than Dan Brown. I'm not a writer, as this blog can certainly attest. On the other hand, I think that there are certainly many writers out there far more deserving of praise and publicity that he is.

Getting to the plot (this paragraph will contain spoilers about the book, so if you haven't read yet and still plan to read it, you may want to skip to the next paragraph), I found the premise to be more absurd and not nearly as Earth-shattering as the press had made it out to be. I have a hard time buying into conspiracy theories to begin with. I have an even harder time believing in conspiracy theories in which the conspiracy lasts for centuries and only about 1 or 2 percent of the population is not involved in the conspiracy in one way or another. Once the "big secret" of who/what is actually meant by the holy grail is revealed we are all supposed to gasp aloud that such a thing could be possible. (For the discussion of this we will assume that everyone agrees that Jesus was real and that he was the son of God, because if they don't the revelation is even less of a big deal.) The shocker here is that the grail is in fact referring to Mary Magdalene who was not just a follower of Jesus but his wife and the mother of his child. My thoughts at that point in the book were, "Ok...and?" So while he was not only deity but human, he got married and had a child. Does that somehow prevent his deity, if true? I suppose one could make the case that if he were deity and knew he was going to die at the age of 33, it might have been a poor decision to get married and father a child, but it would still simply be his choice. So we have a vast conspiracy over several centuries with hints hidden in plain sight in some of the world's most famous art all due to what would really amount to a historical or theological footnote. The real conspiracy here is the one that made this an immensely popular book, from which millions of people were "educated" about history, religion and art.

The most troubling thing about this book to me was what I found when I went to check it out from the library. While only one copy can be found of most books at the library, and a few may have two or even three, our local library had over 25 copies of The Da Vinci Code, of which only three were not checked out. In addition, there are multiple books and even DVDs available at the library to help everyone understand The Da Vinci Code. So many better subjects, so many better authors, so many other things to read and yet there are that many copies of The Da Vinci Code checked out. The lesson: If you hear about a book in the media a lot, it doesn't mean it's good. It just means the author has a good publicist.

The verdict: 0.5 stars. Avoiding is recommended.

As always, you should feel free to disagree with our opinions here at The Fount. You would be wrong if you did, but you should still feel free.

Until later...

As If You Needed Any More Proof

Long day=short blog

This will come as a shock to just about no one...I'm a nerd, and a high-level one at that, apparently.




It could be worse. After all, I could have posted my Geek Code.

Until later...

The Fount of Useless Information Overanalyzes Lyrics

Under the lyrical microscope tonight: 50 Cent's hip-hop ballad/interrogation "21 Questions".

Before we get too far into the lyrics, a note on this song. Is it a good song? No. Does it stick in my head longer than I want it too? Definitely. Do I enjoy the song? Yeah, I do. It's a guilty pleasure song. I like it, but am a little ashamed to admit it. Come on, it's hard to resist any song in which Nate Dogg sings the chorus. You just have to sing along.

On with the lyrical dissection.

Could you love me in a Bentley?
Could you love me on a bus?
I'll ask 21 questions
And they all about us.
Could you, would you with a fox?
Could you, would you in a box?
Do you like green eggs and ham?
Do you like them Sam I Am?

One of my favorite things about the song is definitely the Seussian quality of the lyrics. I'm not sure if this is what he originally intended, but it certainly sounds that way to me. I only wish he had followed up with a release of "50 hears a Who."

And in bed if I used to my tongue, would you like that?
If I wrote you a love letter would you write back?
Now we can have a lil' drink you know a nightcap
And we could go do what you like, I know you like that

I'll ask any of the more sensitive readers to please forgive that section of lyrics, but I will also remind you they are his words not mine. Really though, read that section again. What woman could possibly resist such heartfelt words? This truly is the epitome of love given musical form.

And always remember girl we make mistakes
to make it up I do whatever it take
I love you like a fat kid love cake
You know my style
I say anything to make you smile

Subject-verb agreement issues notwithstanding, let's focus on the line "I love you like a fat kid love cake." While I'm sure most people will immediately assume that 50 Cent is making a typical fat joke and that he is using the comparison because fat kids really, really, really love them some cake. I will have to politely disagree and point out that if you are willing to look a little deeper you will find the true profundity of the song. Go back and look at the song as a whole. He's asking 21 questions, but really they are all the same question; "I'm insecure. Do you love me?" This song is about his dysfunctional relationship with a current girlfriend. He can never be sure whether she truly loves him or whether she just loves his money, fame and image. His insecurities make him question her love, but they also make him come back to her. He is insecure and hates himself for loving a woman he cannot completely trust, but because he is insecure and hates himself he has to keep coming back to her. Thus, he loves her like a fat kid loves cake. It's really quite an amazingly deep song when you look at it that way.

A brief final note before I leave to ponder whether anyone might actually believe I was serious: In writing this post, I was actually very surprised to go through and count the questions in the song and discover that there are, in fact, exactly 21 questions (not counting repeats). Unfortunately, 50 Cent only asks 17 questions, and Nate Dogg asks the remaining 4.

Until later...

Book Review: Northanger Abbey

I recently finished Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen. As I said in my review of Blink, I was reading this as part of a book club which will be meeting at the end of the month. The book was one of the first written by Jane Austen, but was published posthumously. After reading it, I think I understand why.

The writing style is not bad, except for the voice of the narration. Typically you will have a third party omniscient narration, first person narration, or third person narration which is not omniscient but rather follows one specific character. The narration of the novel changed between third person narration following Catherine (the protagonist) to what was almost a first person narrative in which the author converses directly with the reader about the heroine, the reading of novels, etc. (For the record, here at The Fount we would like to see more novels narrated in the second person like the Choose Your Own Adventure books from when I was a kid, but that's really beside the point.) Not only is the repeated changing of narrative tone annoying, but the direct discourse between author and reader is distracting and serves to pull the reader out of the story. This technique has been used many times in other novels (the most obvious example would be Goldman's The Princess Bride) but works better when applied in a consistent, and preferably ironic manner.

While Northanger Abbey is usually considered to be a satirical take on the Gothic novel, a large portion of the novel is in fact a satire of life and class structure at the time. Unfortunately, I felt that there was a significant and not too smooth transition between when Catherine is visiting Bath (the satire of society) and when she visits Northanger Abbey (the satire of Gothic novels). Much of the second portion of the book feels rushed, as if Austen realized how much had been written and decided that if she were to satirize the Gothic novels she had best get moving. Suddenly we are faced with a protagonist who has gone from quaintly naive to naively idiotic.

Other than the voice of the narration, my biggest complaint about the book was the conclusion. Several storylines are just forgotten and the main story is wrapped up in a completely unconvincing and unsatisfying manner. So much of the book is spent crawling at a snail's pace (which is not necessarily a bad thing), but when we get to any resolution, everything just happens and then we stop...The end. I felt underwhelmed by the abrupt halt after the build up of the entire novel.

Overall was it a good book? Sure. Did I have issues with it? Yeah. Is it something I'd like to read again for fun? No, not really.

The verdict: 2 stars. Recommended with reservations.

A brief note on the book front: After looking at the "What am I reading?" section on the sidebar, some of my readers may decide to disown me. Before you jump to any conclusions about my taste (or lack thereof), let me say I promise that I will explain in the next book review, which should be in the next couple of days.

Until later...

On The Avenue I'm Taking You to...42nd Street

I had the privilege of enduring a special form of torture last weekend. We were out of town visiting MK's former home town, and our visit happened to coincide with the Spring Musical at her old high school. Since she was involved in these musicals as a member of stage crew during her high school years, we decided to attend and see this years edition: 42nd Street.

I regret that the lighting was not better in the theater during the show, because I gladly would have written a running diary of the entire event. As it was, I managed a few notes before, during and after to remind myself of the copious blogging fodder that was all around. I will not review this like I do with movies or books, because this can only be properly described when one considers the whole experience.

Before I get started on this I want to make sure that I have the disclaimer that I am aware this was a high school production, and I am not attempting to hold high school students to the same standard I would hold professionals. I was in a few plays (fortunately not musicals) during high school, and I certainly do not believe that these plays (which also starred Malibulibrarian, for the record) would garner any sort of positive reviews from anyone not involved or directly related to someone involved in the production. On to the event...

We arrived about a half-hour early, and I began taking in the scenery. The people waiting in the lobby ranged from not yet in high school to just shy of embalmed. The styles dress and hairstyles were almost as varied. Some people obviously felt the need to dress for the theater (even if the theater was a school), while others wore ripped jeans and black concert t-shirts (keep in mind this was last weekend, not 1988). Some people had blue hair, others had Red Hats, even others had blue hair (note the difference between blue hair of the intentional "pay attention to me" type and blue hair of the old lady rinse type.).

When we reached our seats I began browsing through the program, which was almost 200 pages long. Unfortunately, only about 5-10 pages were actual information, while the rest was advertising. As I scanned the various ads, I realized that I kept seeing ads placed by family and friends of the cast and crew congratulating them and wishing them luck. While I am sure that this is a wonderful thing, as I noticed the same people being congratulated over and over, I couldn't help but wonder how much it must suck to be the person who doesn't get any messages in the program, when your fellow cast member gets three or four different ones.

I also noticed a few other disturbing or funny (depending on your take) things about these ads. First there was the issue of the ads from family. These would typically say "congratulations from" and then have a list of the members of the family. There were some of these with the names of more than 10 kids. This was at a Catholic school, but 10 kids? An almost certainly apocryphal remark of Groucho Marx from You Bet Your Life suddenly came to mind. Often, following each family member's name was a year of graduation. This is a little odd, in that it seems somewhat exclusive to anyone whose parents and/or siblings did not attend the same school. What makes it even more strange is that the graduation years went all the way up to '20. Apparently, the five year olds have already decided which private school they are going to when they get older. For their sake, I hope they never have to repeat a grade. My favorite of the ads however was the one in which a family instructed their daughter to "Never loose your zest for life." Yes, it's definitely much better if your zest is tight. You don't want it loose and flapping around all over the place. Then there were the other ads. The most intriguing of these was an ad for a photographer. He showed off some of his best work which included a Senior picture of one girl which appeared to have been taken while someone forced her to smell a skunk. At least, that's the only explanation I can think of for the expression on her face (the picture also showed up in an ad wishing her luck with the musical). Does it say something about the photographer or about her that this was a picture they chose to show off not once, but twice?

After a few minutes of me mocking the ads, and MK scanning the crowd fearful of seeing, or worse being recognized by, anyone she knows, it was finally time for the curtain to go up. I can't guarantee that what I saw after this was accurate, because the school had prepared for the evening by setting the thermostat to "Broil" and by this point the sweat on my brow had begun to drip into my eyes. Unfortunately, the sweat did not impair my ability to hear.

The curtain went up and instantly the cheering began. People all over the auditorium were doing what can only be described as "hootin' and hollerin'." It was Redneck Broadway. As the first few people came onto the stage, I couldn't help but notice, even from our seats way at the back in the balcony, that the makeup had been done by Tammy Faye Baker. Either that or we had mistakenly stumbled into a drag show.

This would probably be a good time for me to talk about my feelings on musicals in general. I don't dislike musicals, but I do feel that they have several issues going against them right away. First is the requirement of the suspension of disbelief. Most plays, movies and television shows require this to some extent. Musicals take this one step further by having people spontaneously burst into song and/or dance. Sure, you may just suddenly start singing every now and then, but how often do you come up with a brand new song right on the spot? And how often do strangers on street pick it up and join in? To help ease this issue, many musicals are themselves about musicals. This way much of the singing takes place in the context of performing a musical. 42nd Street is one of those, as are No Business Like Show Business, Moulin Rouge and A Chorus Line. A second issue for musical theater (as opposed to musical movies) is that all dialogue is performed right there in front of an audience. Acting in a play is much different than in a film. The actors must speak at, but not to, the audience. There is an automatic level of self-awareness in any live performance like a play or musical that borders on self-parody, intentional or not. Can these things be overcome? Of course, otherwise the musical would have gone the way of the dodo long ago. Are these things best left to professionals? Yeah, I should say so.

A few other random things I noticed along the way:

"Act natural." That is a direction that all people who have ever acted in a play have heard, whether it was a first grade skit at the PTA meeting or the high school musical. Sadly, far too many people ignore it. The urge is to shout out at the audience and over annunciate each word. Apparently, no one listened to that direction this time either.

Either I'm getting really old or some of these kids could not be in high school yet. In theory I suppose it could be like the aforementioned plays from my school days. When we ran short on actors, the principal filled parts with some of his brood. Maybe that's why, but there was one boy who played several roles in 42nd Street, including a thug that beats someone up amusingly enough, who looked like he could not have been more than 12.

From Merriam Webster:
Chase: Verb. To follow rapidly, hunt, pursue
Chaise: Noun. Chaise lounge. A long reclining chair
You'd think that at a school somebody, maybe even the director, would know the difference. Judging by the multiple uses of "chase" rather than "chaise", I guess not.

I truly hate intermissions. The long pause in the middle of a performance has always been annoying to me. More than the break, it is the idiots who do not bother to return to their seats that really bug me. The lights are dimmed or flashed to indicate that the intermission is ending and the second act is about to begin, but people are still up milling about and a dull roar continues for at least another 5-10 minutes.

One of the strangest things about the performance was that it was often quite difficult to hear the people singing. The orchestra was much louder than the performers. I had to wonder if this might have been intentional.

I did feel that perhaps I was being too harsh and perhaps I shouldn't think of this as torture, until just before the first Act ended MK leaned over and whispered, "I am finding this painful to watch."
Unfortunately, she didn't let me leave at intermission.

Well, I'm off to live in fear of retribution from Malibulibrarian for outing him as a former high school actor.

Until later...

Basketball Diaries

As I have stated before, I am a University of Illinois alum and fan. Today, the Illini faced off against the University of Arizona with a berth to the Final Four in St. Louis on the line. The game went back and forth with lead changes until late in the second half when Arizona took a double digit lead for good (or at least that's how it seemed at the time). Allow me to set the stage.

During the latter portion of the game, I was in fact in my car going to get dinner from Wendy's (why we had not yet eaten dinner and why I was picking up fast food at around 9:30, I'm really not too sure). I put the radio on the AM station from Chicago in hopes of catching the U of I broadcast of the game. Yes, there they are. Coming in clearly. At this point Arizona is leading by only a couple of points and the outcome of the game is still in question. As I travel along the far too dark back roads leading from our house to the not-quite metropolis which contains Wendy's, the station fades in and out teasing me with snippets of action. I hear bits and pieces before the reception improves enough for me to hear that the lead is now seven and to hear the Illini wasting every opportunity they are given. My frustration mounts with the game and the poor reception to the point where I decided to give up. Time to switch over to music. (The iPod is here and it's amazing.) As I sit at the drive through window waiting for the high schooler to figure out how to work the debit card machine, my curiosity gets the best of me. I have to know if the situation is any better. Now the lead is 15. Ok, game over, back to the iPod. Brooding, I continue on my way home, realizing that (1) it's just a game and I'm not even involved, but I'm still annoyed (2) there was no excuse for this team to lose yet other than buying into the hype about how great they are. As I pull into my neighborhood, I allow obsessiveness to take the reigns one last time. Switch back to AM. The announcers are far too excited. What's going on? The lead is now three with less than a minute to go. They are discussing whether to foul or play defense. I pull into the driveway. Inbounds pass...stolen. Three point shot...good. Tie game and a time out is called. Now I have a problem. I'm sitting in the driveway, food is getting cold, Frostys are melting, and I might miss the end of the game if I try to take everything down to the house. I decide to try to hurry and take the food in and put the TV on the game as soon as I walk in. Hurrying down the stairs, trying not to drop anything. I make it just in time to see...MK watching Law and Order. I put all the food down and beg for a quick channel switch. "What channel?" She switches for me. There are people walking around the court, no longer playing. No, I should have stayed in the car. Wait, it's still tied and we are going into overtime. I give MK her food and tell her I'm going downstairs to finish watching the game. The overtime period passes quickly, and the Illini prevail as a desperation shot by Arizona bounces wildly off the rim. I have gone from annoyed to despondent to hopeful to ecstatic all in the course of a few minutes. Illinois is headed to the Final Four.

I said all of that so that I can pose this question: Why do we care? Sports is a huge business in this country and others. I was able to watch my mood swing from one end of the spectrum to another based on this game even though I am still objective enough to realize that it doesn't truly matter. It is just a game. None of us are even playing in it. What makes us get so involved? Is it the sense of community, that feeling of being part of something greater than our individual selves? Is it the more primal versions of our beings wanting to establish our dominance over others?

I don't have the answers. All I know is that I may be aware that it is only a game, I may be aware that I don't have any impact on the outcome, I may be aware that my teams victories are not reflective of my superiority, but when my team is playing and my team is winning I no longer care.

Religion is the opiate of the masses? No, sports are.

Until later...

The World's Most Inappropriate Toy?

Ok, I know technically this is a collectible not a toy, but it is a 12 inch tall action figure in my book. I'm not sure what is funnier: that it says a total of 12 phrases (including 3 exclusive for the "Foul-Mouthed" Limited Edition) or that it comes with a "Pimp" necklace and "wad of faux $20.00 cash bills." I suppose he does need those, since one of the pieces of advice mini-Tony will impart is that "This country, you gotta make the money first. Then when you get the money, you get the power. Then when you get the power, then you get the women." Aside from the insanity of it all, I am left with the question of how one can create a talking Tony Montana and include "Uh-oh!" as one of the phrases it can say, but leave out "Say hello to my little friend!"

Two final thoughts on Scarface:

1.) If you are ever looking for a movie that epitomizes "80's Soundtrack Syndrome" this is it. I don't think there has ever been a score more dependent on synthesizers.

2.) Scarface also always reminds me of the odd fascination so many of the people on MTV's "Cribs" have with the movie and with Tony Montana. Unfortunately, it's late and this probably deserves its own post anyway, so any further discussion will have to wait for a later date.

Until later...

All Work And No Play Makes Jack A Dull Boy

For the past two nights, I have been working a different shift. A special study in the lab required me to adjust my work schedule (usually 8 am-5 pm) to accommodate testing a sample that comes in at 8 pm, meaning I'm working from 6 pm until whenever I can get done and drag myself to bed am. Maybe I'm just being a big whiner (ok, I'm definitely being a big whiner), but after only two nights, I'm wondering how people do this on a regular basis and still avoid having a psychotic episode.

Redrum, redrum...

Musical Juxtaposition

I've had the John Legend CD, Let's Get Lifted, for a few months and it has been in fairly heavy rotation in my car during that time. Well, actually it's been in fairly heavy rotation when I'm driving by my self because I might end up singing along, and I don't want to inflict that on any passengers. I love this album and think that John Legend is remarkably talented, but there are some things that bother me about it.

He sings an inordinate number of songs about cheating. There is "Alright," a song about picking up a girl at a club, while her man is there with her, followed by a song titled "She Don't Have to Know", which is obviously about carrying on a relationship behind the back of one's significant other. The next song is the absurd but irresistible "Number One" in which he tries to convince his girlfriend that, despite the fact that he has been cheating, she is still his number one. The refrain of the song says "You know that I love you, There's no one above you, I said it the last time, But this is the last time, Don't make me over, 'Cause I can be faithful, Baby you're my number one" which is certainly reassuring to the girl who has been repeatedly cheated on, but certainly nowhere near as reassuring as the first verse which begins "You can't say I don't love you, Just because I cheat on you, 'Cause you don't see all I do, To keep you from knowing the things I do." Yes, I'm sure she feels so much better about the whole thing now. After all, you've shown your love by doing your best to keep her from knowing you aren't faithful.

So after a song about no longer loving a woman who is cares only about material things and three songs about cheating, we come to "Stay With You", which is probably my favorite track. As the name implies, the song is about a relationship he wants to last forever. The simplicity of the track, the melody and the lyrics work wonderfully together. I just have a hard time listening to him say "Through the end of all time, I will stay with you" after hearing many of the other songs on the album. Is this just me being obsessive again, or do other people evaluate CDs like this? I'm guessing the former.

Juxtaposition aside, the album is highly enjoyable and I would not hesitate to recommend it, especially not to anyone looking for a new direction on R&B.

Until later...

You Never Get a Second Chance to Make a First Impression

I hate finding out what other people think when they first meet me. It's never a good thing. Case in point, my friend and coworker, whom I shall call Fashion Maven.

Since she is making her first appearance, I'll take a moment to introduce her. She works in the same building I do, just one door down from my office. I decided to call her Fashion Maven because that's really what she is. She seems to know what is fashionable before it becomes fashionable and can pull of wearing things no one else would even consider (raise your hands if you have a pair of lime green slingbacks). She is always dressed well even when she's not dressed up. A while back, MK and I went to a movie with Fashion Maven and a friend of hers. There we were, waiting in the lobby of the theater: jeans, sweatshirts, sneakers. It was 10:00 at night for crying out loud, we were lucky I was conscious. In walks Fashion Maven who is also in jeans, but with a nice top, a shawl and a nice selection from her seemingly endless shoe collection. Don't let the clothes and shoes fool you though, she's a nerd too, just a closeted one. In fact, she wanted to be NPR Barbie instead of Fashion Maven, but I refused on the grounds that I couldn't allow her to pick her own name, especially if it was several times wittier than the one I gave her. So, the official introductions: netdom meet Fashion Maven. Fashion Maven, netdom. Now that we've all been formally introduced, let's get to the story.

In talking with Fashion Maven recently, I have, on two separate occasions, learned of impressions she had of me when we first met. She recently told me that when she first met me she thought that she wasn't smart enough, or, to be more specific, she felt that I didn't think she was smart enough to be my friend or to work with. It would seem that I give off some sort of elitist vibe to people who do not yet know me. The other thing she told me is that after she did get to know me better, she thought I didn't like her. Fashion Maven has a fairly playful personality and tends to tease people a lot. Early on, I feigned offense at this a few times, and my sarcasm was apparently not clear enough. Because of this, she was convinced for quite some time that I hated her. So now I am apparently a overly-sensitive, grudge-holding elitist (I personally believe myself to be only one of those three things). These are the types of things I really don't want to find out that people think about me. It shouldn't upset me, but it does. She freely admits that she is almost always wrong about first impressions, but I still feel quite guilty. Obviously, since I referred to Fashion Maven as a friend, these things didn't have a permanent impact, but it still bothers me.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go curl into a ball and rock back and forth while pondering whether I am actually giving off these signals or if I am just easily misunderstood.

Until later...

A Question of Color

After much deliberation and wrestling with the fact that I don't want to spend a ton of money on something I don't really need, I decided to get an iPod. Actually, an iPod mini. Unfortunately I had a hard time finding one. I'm not that picky. I wanted a silver mini, but I would still be happy with one that was blue or green. We went to three stores that carried iPods tonight, and at all three of the stores, the only color available was pink. At one of the stores, an employee told us that they get all four colors in, but can't keep any of them in stock except the pink.

Here's my question, if your product sells well enough that it is hard to keep in stores, but one specific color never moves, shouldn't this tell you something. Maybe it's just coincidence that three different stores can't seem to sell the pink iPods while the others fly off the shelves, but I doubt it. Shouldn't some sort of marketing guru realize this?

Needless to say, I skipped getting one tonight and ordered one online when I got home. I get silver this way, but it also means I have to wait. 6-8 days? Maybe I should have just bought the pink one.

Until later...

That's Not Madonna! or Things You Didn't Want to Know About Your Grandparents

As you may or may not know, MK's grandfather passed away a little over a month ago. We have been doing a lot of traveling back and forth from our place to his to deal with various things, which is part of the reason my blogging has been so sporadic recently. But let's see if we can turn a sad intro into an amusing story (this could be offensive to the very sensitive and/or humorless).

One of the things we have been doing is helping her aunt deal with the accumulation of stuff that we all leave behind when we pass on. Sorting into various piles: keep this, throw that away, burn or shred that, sell that and so on. Her aunt had arranged for an estate sale to deal with all of what was remaining after keepsakes and anything with memories had been given to the family. They told her to just leave everything, and they would deal with it all. During the course of one conversation with them she said, "So, umm...my father was a bit of a pervert...I wasn't sure with all these videos..." "Oh yeah, just leave it," they replied, "we'll sell them." These aren't Showtime or even Skinemax After Dark type films--we're talking full-blown hardcore videos. Right, now picture the same situation with your own grandfather and you begin to see what's going on.

Fortunately, this did not come as a complete surprise to most of the family, so no one was too traumatized by learning this after his death. Everyone has known to one extent or another for years. In fact, MK has known about this since she was in high school. She was housesitting (along with a friend of hers) for her grandparents while they were out of town. One day, they realized that if they wanted to record General Hospital while they were in school, they would need a tape. The search was on. Eventually they turned up an unmarked case with a simple VHS cassette which had a typewritten label on the spine reading "Like a Virgin." Not sure why her grandparents would have need of a Madonna video, they decided that this would be an acceptable tape for recording soap operas. They were sorely mistaken.

Sadly, when they put the tape into the VCR they were not greeted with Madonna but with a rather explicit movie (look, IMDB even has a page for it). How did she react? Well, consider how you would feel as a high schooler finding a movie like that in your grandparents' living room. Now let's make it worse. When her grandparents arrived back home they greeted her and MK's grandfather asked, "So, did you guys watch any movies?" The response? "Nope, nothing at all," followed by running from the house.

A few weeks ago, as we were going through things in the living room, we opened the drawer containing VHS tapes, and there sat right between the Charles Bronson movies and The Glenn Miller Story.

Until later...

'Tis the Season

Quick basketball thoughts while waiting for the oatmeal to cook this morning.

Yes my friends, it's that time of year again. The time when office productivity around the country plummets and cube-dwelling prairie dogs find that the most important skill they ever learned was how to alt-tab. Of course I'm talking about the NCAA tournament. 65 teams, 64 games, several million office pools, and one champion. Every year, I enter an online competition with some friends to see who can best predict the winners of all of the games, and every year I lose. I don't just lose; I lose badly. I tend to finish last or close to it.

This year it will be different; I'm sure of it. I've made my picks and will not go back to change any of them. I have confidence that my teams won't let me down. I know I've got a fool-proof picking system this time. This year it will be different...or not.

Until later...

Friday Film Festival Vol. 6: Only Slightly Late

This week's F3 is a couple days late, but really did anyone notice?

In this edition: Sin City, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Stand By Me, and Be Cool.

After last week's OC debacle, I watched again so that I could see the Episode III trailer premiere. I figured an hour of The OC was less painful than going to see Robots in the theater, especially since I could mostly ignore the show while playing Neverwinter Nights. Had I been thinking, I would have realized that they would wait until the very last break to show the trailer. It didn't work out too badly though, because by watching the entire show, I ended up getting to see the Sin City trailer as well. I'm not sure what to think of this. Have I liked Robert Rodriguez's movies? El Mariachi was great, especially for what it was; Desperado was also quite good; Once Upon a Time in Mexico was nowhere near as good but was greatly improved by Johnny Depp's role and ended up being enjoyable; Spy Kids and Spy Kids 2 were fun kids adventure movies, but Spy Kids 3 was painful crap; I still haven't been able to get myself to sit down and watch From Dusk Til Dawn. I feel like Rodriguez can be a fun director, but not the genius that many people have named him. I'm only somewhat familiar with the source material for Sin City, having just read one of the graphic novels (The Hard Goodbye) upon which the movie is based this week. I enjoyed it, and was amazed at how well Rodriguez managed to replicate the look of Frank Miller's artwork. I'm not going to get my hopes up that this will be spectacular, but I'm still planning to go see it just because it's nice to see someone have the guts to try something different than every other Hollywood movie.

So, after suffering (but not as much as I thought would) through The OC, I watched the Revenge of the Sith trailer. This actually really got me excited for the movie. If this is truly what the film is like then we may actually get a much better movie than either of the other prequels. The difference is that this appears to be that Episode III will be more action/adventure oriented which is where Lucas can excel. I think we learned from the first two that detailed political intrigue and romantic interactions are not his strong suit. I am anxious to see this, but after Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones, I am also apprehensive. Don't get me wrong, I did enjoy Episodes I and II, but I also know that they were seriously flawed films.

While at the library the other day, I picked up a DVD copy of Stand By Me. I was inspired to do this partly by the realization that MK had not ever seen the entire movie and partly by a visit to wilwheaton.net. We watched it, and I have to admit that I had forgotten how good it actually is. For a movie where the four main characters are all 12 or 13, the acting is surprisingly good. I'm not saying they were DeNiro in his prime or anything, but still. Watching the movie caused all sorts of memories from the time of its release to come flooding back. I was just a little younger than the characters at the time, and could find things to relate to in all of them. Ok, maybe not in Teddy (Corey Feldman) but definitely the other three. It also cracked me up to see Vern and realize that I'm looking at Jerry O'Connell. It was interesting to look at characters and realize that so many of them were played by now famous actors. Gordy's (Wil Wheaton) brother was played by John Cusack. I certainly didn't remember noticing that before, but it has been more than 10 years since I last watch the movie.

I also went to the theater to see Be Cool, which is the sequel to Get Shorty. Travolta reprises his role as Chili Palmer, gangster turned movie exec (now) turned music exec and dances with Uma Thurman as if we were in a sequel to Pulp Fiction (I know he dies in PF, I'm not being literal). I did enjoy the movie, but it didn't live up to the book, and Be Cool the novel didn't live up to Get Shorty the novel or movie. The novel felt forced, like a sequel that wasn't needed, but was made because of the movie (which is probably what it was), but the movie never felt that way, mainly because in the hands of F. Gary Gray is often became almost a slapstick and much of the comedy felt forced. The plot was even more twisted than a typical Elmore Leonard plot, which is saying a lot. Quick tangent, few people have as many crosses and double-crosses in their writing as Elmore Leonard and David Mamet, but somehow both of them get away with it because they manage to be clever enough that we tend to give them a little extra freedom. Unfortunately, if their work is put into other people's hands it can become messy and almost eye-rollingly unbelievable, which brings us back to Be Cool. (I suppose that makes this more like a chord than a tangent, but you get the point...oh, rambling, sorry). The real highlights of the film were scenes involving Cedric the Entertainer, Harvey Keitel and (surprisingly) Benjamin Andre (i.e. Andre 3000 of Outkast). Each of them, but especially Cedric, managed to own any scene they were in. The Rock, or Dwayne Johnson if you prefer, as Elliot, the gay bodyguard who wants to be a singer and an actor, was amusing, but the self-awareness was turned up a little too high. Yes, we know who you actually are; you don't have to reference it in fifteen different places (this was not the only issue with too much self-awareness in the movie, just the most repetitive--yes, Mr. Director, I caught your name on Cedric's phone, very clever indeed). I was a little confused by his character's music video which looked amazingly like the Burger King commercial for the bacon, cheddar, ranch burger where a cowboy (is that actually Darius Rucker of Hootie and the Blowfish fame?) strolls along singing and playing a guitar. Is that just a coincidence? Was it a product tie-in that I missed? I'm not sure. On that subject, however, my biggest issue with the film was the awful number of product placements. Obvious product placements. Let's list what I can off the top of my head: Diet Pepsi, Tower Records, Aerosmith, Black Eyed Peas, Domino's Pizza, Cadillac (they even had an ad campaign tie in for this one), Honda Insight, MTV. I managed to think of those in the same amount of time it took to type the list, I imagine that there were more I missed (I also didn't include the cellphone/2-way that everyone had, because I don't know what brand it was). Should you see it? If you want fun, goofy comedy with more twists than a bag of Rold Golds, sure. If you want a more Elmore Leonard-like movie experience, go for Get Shorty or Out of Sight (I should have a hard time recommending a movie with Jennifer Lopez in it, but in this case I don't.)

One final note on Be Cool, judging from what I saw in this movie, someone should make a law preventing Steven Tyler or Joe Perry from ever acting again. That was just painful.

Until later...

Youthful Indiscretions

I was talking with a few people at work recently about seeing the same movies over and over at the theater as a child. During the conversation, a point was raised that, with many of these movies we watched repeatedly, it is embarrassing as an adult to admit how much you used to like them. Today, we're going for the same principle, but I'm changing media.

Let's talk about embarrassing music I owned when I was younger (long enough ago, that these would have been tapes):

Milli Vanilli. Don't act like you didn't think they were rad back in the day. Before it came out that they were frauds, everything they touched turned to gold (or platinum, as the case may be). Now, unfortunately, Rob is dead, or is it Fab?

New Kids on The Block. This would without a doubt be the most embarrassing except that it was a gift. At least I only had one tape and didn't own the remix tape (no, I'm not implying anyone else did, why?).

Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. Yeah, we're sticking with the Wahlberg family here. The first Marky Mark album, I bought for myself. The follow album up was a gift, so I think we can excuse that. What I can't excuse is that I played that first album over and over.

Slaughter. You know, "Up all night, sleep all day." Remember? No? I wish I didn't.

Vanilla Ice. Another competitor for most humiliating. Unfortunately, it also loses out because everyone owned this tape. The truly humiliating part is that I can still quote, "All right, Stop! Collaborate and listen. Ice is back with a brand new invention. Something grabs a hold of me tightly. Flow like a harpoon daily and nightly. 'Will it ever stop?' Yo, I don't know. Turn off the lights and I'll glow. To the extreme, I rock a mic like a vandal. Light up the stage and wax a chump like a candle." I wonder what I could have stored in that portion of my brain that might have been of more use than those lyrics? Even more depressing is that when we began to combine tapes after getting married, we discovered that we now possessed two copies of To the Extreme, because not only did we both own it, but neither of us had bothered to throw it away yet.
Damn Yankees. Can you take me high enough? Hopefully high enough to jump to my death if I have to listen to that song again.

Great White. I bought this album because of how much I loved the song "Once Bitten, Twice Shy." If I remember correctly, I think I also turned the cover of the cassette insert around, because I was worried about getting in trouble for the cover art which had female legs that were exposed all the way up to the hips. Yes, I sucked as a child. I was a loser. Shut up and leave me alone.

MC Hammer. Technically I only had one MC Hammer album. When the album with "2 Legit 2 Quit" came out, he had dropped the MC and was just Hammer. I'm not sure which of these was more embarrassing. I'm going with the 2nd, because it means I didn't learn the first time.

Poison. As if owning a Poison album (in this case, Open Up and Say Ahh) wasn't bad enough. I had a copy made by a friend. I played that tape so much I just about wore it out.

Samantha Fox. She was attractive, and somehow at 12 or 13 I was convinced that hot female artists would have revealing pictures of themselves on the inside art. See note at end of Great White comments.

Paula Abdul. I believe I had three Paula Abdul tapes, including a dance remix tape. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that this is the most embarrassing portion of my youthful music collection. I'd love to defend myself, but I really can't. Even the above Samantha Fox defense can't justify this.

I thought this might be cathartic, but instead I just feel pathetic. Feel free to comment and list some of your own. I wouldn't want to be the only one humiliated here.

Until later, check out the hook while my DJ revolves it...

Has It Really Been That Long?

As you may or may not remember (more likely not), a week ago in my babblings about the members of G-Unit I linked to an article about the current feud between the Game and 50 Cent. I didn't realize it at the time, but today is eight years from when the Notorious B.I.G. was killed. I can't believe it has been that long. When this happened, the East Coast/West Coast rap war was at its peak. By this point, Tupac and Biggie had repeatedly exchanged barbs in lyrics and interviews, Tupac had been killed in Las Vegas and Biggie had been accused by several groups of masterminding the hit. I remember hearing about B.I.G. getting shot and wondering about how anyone could really feel that any of this was worth dying over. I understand wanting somebody to give you respect, but the concept of kill or be killed because someone insulted you was and is foreign to me.

Regardless of his early demise, Notorious B.I.G. was an amazing influence to an entire generation of rap artists and set the standard for clever lyrics that no one has been able to match yet. Without Biggie there would be no Jay Z, no Nas. They may have still been around, they may even have become stars in the rap world, but they probably would not have been able to be the big crossover stars that they have been. The entire East Coast scene was changed by a man who only released one album before he died.

Hopefully, somebody out there is able to take a look back at this and learn from Biggie and Tupac before allowing another feud to escalate to all-out war.

Until later...

Book Review: Blink

Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking is the second book I have read by Malcolm Gladwell recently. While The Tipping Point dealt with small factors causing large differences, Blink details the unconscious thought that occurs in a fraction of a second. We all deal with this in many different ways every day. Gladwell uses examples to demonstrate the impact, both positive and negative of this unconscious thought process.

When, as discussed in the book, antiquity experts recognize a statue as a fraud upon first glance despite evidence to the contrary, they are using that almost instantaneous, unconscious ability. How did they know it was fake? What could they possibly have seen in such a short period of time that would let signal fraud? I don't know, and more remarkably, neither did they. Could I have done the same thing? No, anything I said would have been nothing more than a guess because I don't have the knowledge from which to draw. Even without conscious thought, you have to have the appropriate expertise. I could no more have determined the authenticity of the statue than I could have known from the way a professional tennis player begins a serve that he was about to double-fault, as a tennis expert in the book is described as doing.

While these are fascinating and even useful, there is a downside to this unconscious thought. Instinct is based on what we have been given over time and is influenced by not only our feelings, but the feelings of others around us as well. When someone talks about going to the doctor, most people will immediately assume that the speaker's doctor is male. We make similar assumptions about race, weight, height, age and pretty much anything else you can determine quickly. These may not reflect your true feelings, but they are "implicit associations" coming from your unconscious. If you want to see what some of these are like, you can take some Implicit Association Tests (IATs) at this site. A warning, however, the results may make you feel a little uncomfortable. I have to admit I was particularly amused when Gladwell said that on the Race IAT he tested as having a moderate preference for whites then stated, "But then again, I am half black." The views of the societies we live in filter in to all of us even if we don't want them to.

The book concludes by discussing the ways to use and control the "Blink" phenomenon of unconscious thought. If you can learn to tune out the preconceived notions and tune into the actual insight, this can be an amazing tool. Of course, if you figure out how to do that, let me know.

Like The Tipping Point, Gladwell does an amazing job of taking concepts that could be confusing and presenting them in a manner that is easily understandable irrespective of one's scientific background. Also like The Tipping Point, I am going to end my review by recommending this book to you. Go the bookstore and buy it, go to Amazon and order it, go to the library and borrow it or go to a friend's house and steal it, but get a copy and read this book.

Not that I've finished this, I suppose I should get to reading Northanger Abbey, since I have a book club discussion about it at the end of the month.

The Verdict: 3 stars. Highly Recommended.

Until later...

Kirk Douglas Shilling for Pepsi?

During tonight's particularly amusing episode of the Simpsons, I saw a commercial for Pepsi I had never seen before.

A brief description: We see a couple guys dressed like Roman soldiers. One of yells out, "Did one of you leave his lunch at the last rest stop?" He holds up a paper bag and begins pulling out the lunch, and sandwich and a Pepsi. We see the paper bag has a name written on it. The soldier shouts again, "It says Spartacus."

Cut to the climactic scene of the 1960 classic with Kirk Douglas standing up followed by Tony Curtis and every other actor yelling, "I am Spartacus."

It was quite amusing. Almost as amusing as the Simpsons' spoofing of Wal-Mart in tonight's episode. In honor of the "Sprawl-Mart" greeters in the episode who were stealing in protest of unfair labor practices, I give you the words of Kanye West from his song Spaceship on The College Dropout: "Let's go back, back to the Gap, Look at my check, wasn't no scratch. So if I stole, wasn't my fault. Yeah, I stole, never got caught."

Anyway, tangent aside, I felt that the Spartacus ad was several times better than any of the Pepsi spots during the Super Bowl.

Until later...

Friday Film Festival Vol. 5: Getting Spoiled

Have you noticed how incredibly easy it is to find spoilers for just about any movie you want? Hundreds of sites on the web can tell you all about what is going to happen in a movie that's not coming out for a few months. Some sites are specific to one movie or group of movies, while others, like Ain't It Cool News, give you info on anything and everything coming soon. One of the biggest film series to have problems with this is Star Wars. Across the web, Star Wars probably has the more sites dedicated to it than any other topic (well, sites that don't require a credit card or that you be over 18 to view). Obviously, Lucasfilm is not excited about this and does everything possible to prevent anything too specific, and certainly any images, from being released too early. When I was first planning out this post, I was going to link to this site and point out the picture of Natalie Portman pregnant in Star Wars Episode III. Unfortunately, all of the pictures were removed at the request of Lucasfilm, but plenty of rumors and spoilers about what will be in the film are still available on the site.

All these efforts by all of the various studios still don't prevent the spread of this information. I can tell you the "big twist" or ending of probably half a dozen recent movies I haven't seen. By the time Star Wars Episode II came out I had already read the entire screenplay online as well as reading a half dozen reports of watching the finished film. It isn't limited to Star Wars either; the screenplay for Kill Bill was available online even before it was decided to split it into two films (this of course, does mean there were some significant differences between the screenplay I read and the two films Tarantino eventually released).

Why do we have this need for instant gratification? Why can we not wait a couple more months until the movie comes out to learn the ending? Have we become an entire society of people who skip to the end of a book because we can't handle the anticipation?

I don't have the answers. I'm the guy that can barely stand waiting through an hour-long TV show to find out what's going to happen.

Until later...

Television Thoughts

A few thoughts on television over the last couple of days.

I watched Lost last night (as I do every week), and I am quite upset that this week was the last new episode for 6 weeks. I've complained about this before, but come on ABC, 6 weeks? Really? This is one of the reasons why the DVD is one of the best things to happen to TV series (especially the serial dramas) in quite some time. When you watch on DVD you control when the episodes air. Of course, you have to wait about six months from the end of the season for the DVD set to come out. Another benefit of the DVD is the rapid catch up. Hear good things about 24 or Alias but haven't checked them out before? You wouldn't want to jump into the middle and be confused, but you could go out and rent the DVDs and catch up and be just like the other addicts that have been watching since the beginning. If this had been around when X-Files was on, I imagine many more people would have joined in the later years rather than just saying, "It's too late now. I'm completely confused."

Anyway back to Lost (If you don't care about Lost, do care but haven't seen last night's episode, or just feel like skipping this section, jump down to the next paragraph...or not.). Last night's episode, "Numbers", focused on Hurley, the last of the 14 major players to get his own episode. We found out that (1) he's rich (2) he's been in a mental institution, but we don't know why (3) has had some remarkably bad luck since winning the lottery (4) won the lottery using numbers that originated from the island, though he didn't know it at the time (5) won the lottery using numbers that are found on the side of the mysterious hatch that Locke and Boone stare at but never do anything about (6) was probably Locke's boss (They didn't specify that it was the same company, but Locke lived in Tustin and worked for a box company and Hurley's accountant mentioned him being the owner of a box company in Tustin. Everyone is connected, and nothing is a coincidence on this show.). Unfortunately, the show also raised almost as many questions. The problem they are going to run into is that the longer the show goes on raising new questions, the better the payoff must be when they finally get to it. I did enjoy the way the first portion of the episode was done in a tragi-comic way, playing off the personality they had established for Hurley before becoming more serious as we learned more about his situation. One final Lost thought, is anyone else bothered by the fact that when they needed someone to play an Iraqi on the show they went out and hired an Indian actor? I like Naveen Andrews. I think he is a good actor, but that seems very odd to me.

Tonight, I was sitting at the computer, and I actually had The O.C. on the TV in the background. I don't typically watch the show, and I really didn't want to see it tonight either, but I had a specific reason to watch. It wasn't until about halfway through the show that I realized that the premier of the Star Wars Episode III trailer was during next week's O.C. The lesson: Pay attention to what you read, or you might have to watch 35 year olds pretend to be in high school (how old is the guy playing Ryan on that show, anyway?).

Until later...

G-g-g-g-g-G-Unit!

I was inspired to write this post for a few reasons.

First of all, I was on the road again this weekend and while driving through and around Chicago I was listening to an "urban" radio station. This means that I had the ability to listen to Hip Hop on the radio. Here in Kazoo, that's not really much of an option. You only hear Hip Hop if it's Eminem, since he's from Detroit...and white. (Not that I'm implying anything about our radio programming. You can draw your own conclusions.) Anyway, as I went through Chicago, just about every third song, if not actually every other song, was a member of G-Unit. That started me thinking about the various styles and personalities of the different members.

Second, this post over at Preshrunk. I loved his explanation of the shirt and his love for Hip Hop. As a fellow "hopelessly goofy cracker," I understood and agreed completely. That helped push me more toward a Hip Hop post.

On to the subject: As I said, I was thinking about the differing styles of the members of G-Unit. Since we can't do anything that's too normal here at the Fount, I decide to present my thoughts in sort of a yearbook superlative fashion. (Just keep going, you'll see what I mean.)

"Most Likely to Remind Me of a Better Rapper" to Young Buck. Listening to "Let Me In" always makes me think back to Pac and his flow. Young Buck has a style that is reminiscent of Tupac, but nowhere near as good and just makes me wish I were listening to Tupac instead.

"Most Clever/Wittiest Lyrics" to Lloyd Banks. There is at least one line in every Lloyd Banks song that makes me laugh. His clever wordplay is so much better than the cut-and-paste lyrics of so many other MCs today.

"I Can't Think of Anything Other Than Chris Rock's VMA Joke About You" to 50 Cent. It's probably been 2 or 3 years since Chris Rock made a joke at the MTV Video Music Awards about 50 Cent and compared him to Jenna Jameson (Hopefully somebody out there other than me remembers this. I'm not going to retell the joke itself; after all, there may be children reading!). Sadly, this joke is what I think of even this much later.

"Most Likely to Issue Fatwas and Reignite the East Coast-West Coast Rap Jihad" to the Game. He's absolutely dedicated to bringing back West Coast Rap and is highly influenced by NWA. The irony of this is that I had come to this conclusion before seeing this article.

And finally, "Most Likely to Make Me Regress to Being a High Schooler" to the Game. Somehow, listening to Game makes me feel like I stepped into a time warp that sent me back to high school in the early 90's. I suddenly feel the urge to turn the bass up too high and drive around with the radio at unreasonably high volumes. (Yes, I am aware that based on that last article I linked to he's no longer part of G-Unit. I'm just ignoring it for my post.)

Well, I'm off to ponder what ads Google is going to put up since I mentioned Jenna Jameson (oops, now it's twice). I hope reading this amused you as much as it amused me to write it.

Until later...

Book Review: Devil in the Details

First, let me admit this review is quite late. I finished reading this book almost a week ago. I even tried to write the review once before, but Internet Explorer crashed about halfway through. Let's give it another try, shall we?

Devil in the Details: Scenes from an Obsessive Girlhood is an absolutely hilarious and insightful look at the life of the author, Jennifer Traig. While growing up, Traig suffered from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, specifically, Scrupulosity, a form in which the OCD becomes religious in nature. Now rather than worrying that something horrible will happen to you (or someone you know) if you fail to do everything just right, you'll end up in hell instead. This combined with the Jewish law she had to learn as a preteen to form a volatile mixture.

Rather than wallowing in self-pity, Traig approaches the subject with humor. For example on the subject of OCD: "Every mental illness has its pros and cons, but for all-around appeal, you can't beat OCD. It's not as colorful as multiple personality disorder or as exhilarating as bipolarity, but for consistent amusement, it's your best bet...Except for the tedium, the time commitment, and the incessant badgering, we're a riot."

While many of the stories she tells through the book are hilarious, the work is in fact heart-warming when you look at all of what she and her family went through. To stay together through that and not ever resort to physical violence is the mark of a family that truly loves each other.

I absolutely loved this books for several reasons: It was enjoyable to read. It was funny. It was an excellent record of a family's love. Most of all, however, it made me aware that there was someone out there crazier than me.

The Verdict: 3 Stars. Highly Recommended.

Until later...