Kids say the darnedest things. That was the theme of the show that Art
Linkletter and later Bill Cosby hosted for many years, and it’s also
something to which Bill Adler could readily attest, only he might
instead say, “Kids write the darnedest things.” Adler has
published many books showcasing letters that children have written to
particular people. In the gift book Dear Pastor, illustrated by Bettye Beach, the addressee is a child’s pastor.
Unfortunately,
there are no notes in here about how these were collected, so I’m not
sure if he asked pastors for letters from children or asked kids to send
in letters that they might send their pastor. My suspicion is the
latter, since each letter follows the same format: “Dear Pastor, [body
of letter], [optional sign-off], [name], [age], [city].” Then again, he
may have just contacted those kids and asked them to re-write their
letters in that format. Since almost every letter is hand-written – some
print, some cursive – I assume that we’re seeing the kids’ own hands.
If not, he’s using a lot of kidprint fonts to be rather misleading.
These
are cute letters that delve into a number of theological questions.
Because of the book’s format, they are extremely short. Most letters
only contain one or two sentences, and there are recurring themes. Some
kids offer backhanded compliments on the service like “I like the choir
in church very much except for the songs they sing” and “I like to go to
church on Sunday because I don’t have any choice.” Others have
suggestions on how to make things more fun; particularly memorable is
that of 9-year-old Loreen, who muses, “I think more people would come to
church if you moved it to Disneyland.”
While some of these kids
clearly are not too enthralled with church as it stands, many of them
seem to yearn for a deeper sense of spiritual connection. One child
requests God’s phone number, another His zip code. Ten-year-old
Franklin, tired of feeling invisible in a classroom where his teacher
still can’t get his name right, hopes that God knows his name. Others
seem more concerned about God’s well-being; one asks what He does for
fun, another who He turns to in times of crisis. Some of the questions
seem pretty goofy, but these are pretty typical of young children trying
to explore religious ideas. I’ve certainly heard a few questions like
this from kids at church and asked a few myself. In fact, my
inquisitiveness about such matters got me in a heap of trouble at the
public kindergarten I attended.
Adler doesn’t offer any answers
here; he just chronicles the questions and comments, and Beach provides
humorous drawings to accompany them. These cartoonish kids mostly appear
on the right pages, though one will occasionally show up on the left.
Not every kid has a cartoon counterpart; we have 75 letters but only 40
illustrations. Still, the kids we do see in visual form are very cute,
both the virtuous and the mischievous.
Christian parents and
anybody who works with kids in a church capacity will probably find
humor in these letters. The book may also prepare them to respond to
these types of queries if they come up. This book’s purpose is really
just to entertain, but if it can help strengthen a dialogue between kids
and adults, so much the better.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Embrace Contentment With the 2011 Happiness Is... Ornament
Happiness Is a Warm Puppy
is one of the most iconic books Charles Schulz ever created. A compact
celebration of the many different ways in which people find happiness,
it includes a series of “Happiness is…” statements, each accompanied by a
drawing of one or more Peanuts characters. This year’s Happiness
Is… Hallmark ornament celebrates that book and the general feeling of
contentment that goes along with it.
This sturdy ornament features Charlie Brown lounging cozily in a bright blue beanbag, reading the book whose title has been shortened to Happiness Is… On Charlie Brown’s head rests Snoopy, his faithful white beagle with the black spot on his back, and plucky yellow bird Woodstock perches on Snoopy’s head. All three wear wide smiles. They make a lovely little tower, and the beanbag, which is flat on the bottom, gives them a very sturdy base. The bag is two inches long and just under two inches wide, and from its bottom to the top of Woodstock’s head, the ornament stands slightly less than four inches tall.
The colors on this ornament are very vivid. I would describe the blue as cerulean, a cheerful color that is fairly light but very bright. Charlie Brown has flesh-toned arms, hands, legs and face, while his shirt is bright red with a jagged black stripe, his shorts are black and his shoes are brown. Snoopy is blazingly white except for the black spots and the red collar, and Woodstock sports a sunny shade of yellow. Meanwhile, the book in Charlie Brown’s hands has a lavender cover. The pages are white on the edges, but the left page to which the book is open is red, while the right is orange.
“Happiness is getting together with friends,” the page reads, and that seems wonderfully appropriate for this ornament. The unspoken sentiment that goes along with it here would be something along the lines of “Happiness is curling up with a good book.” Because it so effectively conveys the joy of reading, this ornament would make a wonderful shelf sitter in a book nook or on a home library shelf. I’ve decided to keep mine out year-round; after all, there is nothing inherently Christmassy about it.
If you do want to hang this one on your Christmas tree, the ornament hook is at the back of Snoopy’s head, where you barely notice it from the front because Woodstock is standing directly in front of it. There’s a slight tilt to the way this hangs because of the heaviness of the beanbag, but it’s nothing very dramatic. It’s just enough to enhance the illusion of reclining.
While this is well-crafted and appealing from a purely visual point of view, one thing that makes this battery-operated ornament so fun is the button you push to make Charlie Brown talk. Located on the side of the beanbag and colored to blend in with the rest of the material, it runs through a series of statements about what happiness is. There are enough that at least one should apply to whoever happens to be listening, especially since one of the statements is about how different things make different people happy. The list of quotes is as follows.
“Happiness is getting together with friends.”
“Happiness is an A on your spelling test.”
“Happiness is finding someone you like at the front door.”
“Happiness is walking on the grass in your bare feet.”
“Happiness is one thing to one person and another thing to another person.”
I’m not sure who recorded the voice for this, but he sounds Charlie Brownish to me, and he does a nice job with the statements, though his inflection on the third is a little wonky. It’s fun to press the button multiple times and listen to each in turn.
This is an excellent ornament for fans of Charlie Brown and his pals, and it can bring a smile no matter what the season is. If you think happiness is a warm puppy, a beloved book or devoted friends, then you will probably also find that happiness is a 2011 Hallmark ornament featuring Charlie Brown, Snoopy and Woodstock.
This sturdy ornament features Charlie Brown lounging cozily in a bright blue beanbag, reading the book whose title has been shortened to Happiness Is… On Charlie Brown’s head rests Snoopy, his faithful white beagle with the black spot on his back, and plucky yellow bird Woodstock perches on Snoopy’s head. All three wear wide smiles. They make a lovely little tower, and the beanbag, which is flat on the bottom, gives them a very sturdy base. The bag is two inches long and just under two inches wide, and from its bottom to the top of Woodstock’s head, the ornament stands slightly less than four inches tall.
The colors on this ornament are very vivid. I would describe the blue as cerulean, a cheerful color that is fairly light but very bright. Charlie Brown has flesh-toned arms, hands, legs and face, while his shirt is bright red with a jagged black stripe, his shorts are black and his shoes are brown. Snoopy is blazingly white except for the black spots and the red collar, and Woodstock sports a sunny shade of yellow. Meanwhile, the book in Charlie Brown’s hands has a lavender cover. The pages are white on the edges, but the left page to which the book is open is red, while the right is orange.
“Happiness is getting together with friends,” the page reads, and that seems wonderfully appropriate for this ornament. The unspoken sentiment that goes along with it here would be something along the lines of “Happiness is curling up with a good book.” Because it so effectively conveys the joy of reading, this ornament would make a wonderful shelf sitter in a book nook or on a home library shelf. I’ve decided to keep mine out year-round; after all, there is nothing inherently Christmassy about it.
If you do want to hang this one on your Christmas tree, the ornament hook is at the back of Snoopy’s head, where you barely notice it from the front because Woodstock is standing directly in front of it. There’s a slight tilt to the way this hangs because of the heaviness of the beanbag, but it’s nothing very dramatic. It’s just enough to enhance the illusion of reclining.
While this is well-crafted and appealing from a purely visual point of view, one thing that makes this battery-operated ornament so fun is the button you push to make Charlie Brown talk. Located on the side of the beanbag and colored to blend in with the rest of the material, it runs through a series of statements about what happiness is. There are enough that at least one should apply to whoever happens to be listening, especially since one of the statements is about how different things make different people happy. The list of quotes is as follows.
“Happiness is getting together with friends.”
“Happiness is an A on your spelling test.”
“Happiness is finding someone you like at the front door.”
“Happiness is walking on the grass in your bare feet.”
“Happiness is one thing to one person and another thing to another person.”
I’m not sure who recorded the voice for this, but he sounds Charlie Brownish to me, and he does a nice job with the statements, though his inflection on the third is a little wonky. It’s fun to press the button multiple times and listen to each in turn.
This is an excellent ornament for fans of Charlie Brown and his pals, and it can bring a smile no matter what the season is. If you think happiness is a warm puppy, a beloved book or devoted friends, then you will probably also find that happiness is a 2011 Hallmark ornament featuring Charlie Brown, Snoopy and Woodstock.
Does Donald Duck Have What It Takes to Be a TV Star?
There’s something very appealing about the thought of being on TV. My
time on the air has been mostly limited to seeing my face on the screen
at the CROP Walk or some other large event where you might be able to
pick my face out of a crowd of hundreds. I was actually interviewed once
when I attended a local memorial service for Pope John Paul II, but
that’s pretty much the extent of my television experience. Still, I
understand the excitement that grips Donald when a TV crew starts
filming a show nearby in Donald Duck, TV Star!
In this Golden Easy Reader by Mary Carey, Donald has much bigger things in mind than a ten-second spot on the evening news. He wants to be an actor. And when he finds out that what this show needs is a stunt driver, he wants to be a daredevil. But can he really handle those curves, or is he headed for failure? I’ve always loved Donald Duck books, largely because he is always getting himself into ridiculous messes, so it should be apparent right from the get-go that Donald’s road to super-stardom will not be an easy one. The chiming of his nephews’ warnings does not increase the reader’s confidence in him.
Most of the action in this book hinges on the unlikely premise that Donald could simply walk up to a TV producer and say, “Hey, I know how to drive a stunt car!” and have him hand him the keys. Nobody’s going to take that kind of chance on some guy who just came up out of nowhere, especially when there is an expensive racecar at stake. There’s also the fact that he simply tells Donald to drive and starts filming, so Donald has no idea where he’s supposed to be going. In a real TV show, a scene like this would be carefully planned out.
Aside from that, however, this is a fun story demonstrating that dreaming about doing something and actually doing it are two very different things, and sometimes the gap between them can’t be closed. Huey, Dewey and Louie know that making a television show is hard work. Donald likes the glamour and fun of TV but isn’t prepared for what he’ll need to do in order to become a star. There’s a lesson in there about having realistic expectations and a strong work ethic, but mostly, this is just a fun story that offers the chance to see Donald Duck crashing into things. It’s not Blues Brothers territory since he mostly has a clear path, but there’s still concern over how he is going to stop this car that he can’t control and whether he will get hurt in the process.
Donald Duck, TV Star! was written with first- and second-graders in mind, and the sentences are crafted to be easy for those in that age range. The book is very repetitive. Several successive sentences will use the same structure or will refer back to something that was said earlier, echoing it or closely mimicking it. Most of the sentences contain only a few short words. For instance, during Donald’s driving stint, we see two repetitions, with slight variations, of “The car raced down the street. It went very fast. It went faster. ‘Too fast!’ cried Donald.” This helps with ease of reading and allows kids to anticipate what is coming next.
The easy writing and the colorful pictures featuring familiar characters acting in expected ways make Donald Duck, TV Star! a fun story for young readers. While it won’t teach them much about the television industry, it will take them for an entertaining ride.
In this Golden Easy Reader by Mary Carey, Donald has much bigger things in mind than a ten-second spot on the evening news. He wants to be an actor. And when he finds out that what this show needs is a stunt driver, he wants to be a daredevil. But can he really handle those curves, or is he headed for failure? I’ve always loved Donald Duck books, largely because he is always getting himself into ridiculous messes, so it should be apparent right from the get-go that Donald’s road to super-stardom will not be an easy one. The chiming of his nephews’ warnings does not increase the reader’s confidence in him.
Most of the action in this book hinges on the unlikely premise that Donald could simply walk up to a TV producer and say, “Hey, I know how to drive a stunt car!” and have him hand him the keys. Nobody’s going to take that kind of chance on some guy who just came up out of nowhere, especially when there is an expensive racecar at stake. There’s also the fact that he simply tells Donald to drive and starts filming, so Donald has no idea where he’s supposed to be going. In a real TV show, a scene like this would be carefully planned out.
Aside from that, however, this is a fun story demonstrating that dreaming about doing something and actually doing it are two very different things, and sometimes the gap between them can’t be closed. Huey, Dewey and Louie know that making a television show is hard work. Donald likes the glamour and fun of TV but isn’t prepared for what he’ll need to do in order to become a star. There’s a lesson in there about having realistic expectations and a strong work ethic, but mostly, this is just a fun story that offers the chance to see Donald Duck crashing into things. It’s not Blues Brothers territory since he mostly has a clear path, but there’s still concern over how he is going to stop this car that he can’t control and whether he will get hurt in the process.
Donald Duck, TV Star! was written with first- and second-graders in mind, and the sentences are crafted to be easy for those in that age range. The book is very repetitive. Several successive sentences will use the same structure or will refer back to something that was said earlier, echoing it or closely mimicking it. Most of the sentences contain only a few short words. For instance, during Donald’s driving stint, we see two repetitions, with slight variations, of “The car raced down the street. It went very fast. It went faster. ‘Too fast!’ cried Donald.” This helps with ease of reading and allows kids to anticipate what is coming next.
The easy writing and the colorful pictures featuring familiar characters acting in expected ways make Donald Duck, TV Star! a fun story for young readers. While it won’t teach them much about the television industry, it will take them for an entertaining ride.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Underground Gopher Steps Into the Light in Winnie the Pooh: Working Together
Gopher is mildly controversial among Winnie the Pooh fans because he is a Disney invention, having been introduced in Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree
so that there would be a distinctly American character (and an excuse
for several meta jokes involving the fact that he’s “not in the book.”) I
love Pooh in all forms, but my favorite version and what constitutes my
own personal canon is the Saturday morning cartoon The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh,
in which Gopher (Michael Gough) is a vital part of life in the
Hundred-Acre Wood and actually appears in more episodes than Christopher
Robin, Kanga, Roo, Owl and even Eeyore. For me, then, this industrious
digger with the mild speech impediment has a very important place in
Pooh lore, so I was happy to see so much of him in the video Winnie the Pooh: Working Together, part of the Learning collection of videos featuring episodes from the series.
Shovel, Shovel, Toil and Trouble - Gopher is heavily involved in each of the three episodes on this video, but his presence here is most pronounced as he giddily receives a shiny new power shovel he dubs Lucille. There’s a blush-worthy romantic fervor to his actions wherever Lucille is concerned, and in his blind passion, he tears around the Hundred-Acre Wood digging unwanted swimming pools and basements, wreaking havoc with the homes of his friends. Only Piglet (John Fiedler) sympathizes with his plight, but even he begins to think Gopher has gone too far when he comes home to find his house submerged. It’s up to this timid soul to put a stop to Gopher’s shenanigans without hurting his feelings. A great showcase for both Gopher and Piglet.
Tigger’s Shoes - In this episode, Tigger (Paul Winchell) is the one driving everyone, most notably Rabbit (Ken Sansom), up a wall. In an effort to keep him occupied, he challenges Tigger to reach the top of the dizzyingly high Castle Ridge in a single bounce. When Tigger fails to accomplish the task, he begs Rabbit for help training, prompting the persnickety bunny to play a rather mean prank that involves loading down a “special” pair of sneakers with nuts and bolts so Tigger will lose confidence in his own abilities. Gopher’s role here is mostly as advisor to Rabbit as he tries to make him feel guilty for his actions. This is a great episode for fans of Tigger or Rabbit, and the visual spectacle of the towering cliff is truly grand.
Easy Come, Easy Gopher - Once again, Rabbit is irritated, this time because Gopher’s plans for the fabled Ultimate Tunnel of his grandpappy’s dreams interfere with his house. When the opportunity presents itself, he changes Gopher’s schematics, not realizing that Gopher’s tunnel will now disrupt all of the other homes in the Wood. As in the second episode, we eventually have a remorseful Rabbit as he realizes that his meddling has only made the problem worse. Beyond the spirit of togetherness and forgiveness pervading the end of the episode, I love this one because of the brief introduction, via a tall tale, to Gopher’s grandpappy, who actually comes to the Hundred-Acre Wood himself in one of my favorite episodes of the series.
It’s very rare for an episode to incorporate all ten of the primary characters in the series, and in this case, none of the three episodes includes Eeyore, Kanga, Roo, Owl or Christopher Robin. While fans of those characters may be disappointed, those who come down on the side of Gopher will be satisfied with this video that emphasizes the importance of forgiveness and compromise.
Shovel, Shovel, Toil and Trouble - Gopher is heavily involved in each of the three episodes on this video, but his presence here is most pronounced as he giddily receives a shiny new power shovel he dubs Lucille. There’s a blush-worthy romantic fervor to his actions wherever Lucille is concerned, and in his blind passion, he tears around the Hundred-Acre Wood digging unwanted swimming pools and basements, wreaking havoc with the homes of his friends. Only Piglet (John Fiedler) sympathizes with his plight, but even he begins to think Gopher has gone too far when he comes home to find his house submerged. It’s up to this timid soul to put a stop to Gopher’s shenanigans without hurting his feelings. A great showcase for both Gopher and Piglet.
Tigger’s Shoes - In this episode, Tigger (Paul Winchell) is the one driving everyone, most notably Rabbit (Ken Sansom), up a wall. In an effort to keep him occupied, he challenges Tigger to reach the top of the dizzyingly high Castle Ridge in a single bounce. When Tigger fails to accomplish the task, he begs Rabbit for help training, prompting the persnickety bunny to play a rather mean prank that involves loading down a “special” pair of sneakers with nuts and bolts so Tigger will lose confidence in his own abilities. Gopher’s role here is mostly as advisor to Rabbit as he tries to make him feel guilty for his actions. This is a great episode for fans of Tigger or Rabbit, and the visual spectacle of the towering cliff is truly grand.
Easy Come, Easy Gopher - Once again, Rabbit is irritated, this time because Gopher’s plans for the fabled Ultimate Tunnel of his grandpappy’s dreams interfere with his house. When the opportunity presents itself, he changes Gopher’s schematics, not realizing that Gopher’s tunnel will now disrupt all of the other homes in the Wood. As in the second episode, we eventually have a remorseful Rabbit as he realizes that his meddling has only made the problem worse. Beyond the spirit of togetherness and forgiveness pervading the end of the episode, I love this one because of the brief introduction, via a tall tale, to Gopher’s grandpappy, who actually comes to the Hundred-Acre Wood himself in one of my favorite episodes of the series.
It’s very rare for an episode to incorporate all ten of the primary characters in the series, and in this case, none of the three episodes includes Eeyore, Kanga, Roo, Owl or Christopher Robin. While fans of those characters may be disappointed, those who come down on the side of Gopher will be satisfied with this video that emphasizes the importance of forgiveness and compromise.
This Little Piggy Conquers Fears Through Hospitality in John Pig's Halloween
In the classic Peanuts special It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown,
Linus Van Pelt skips trick-or-treating in favor of greeting the Great
Pumpkin from the pumpkin patch, and Sally Brown gives it a pass because
she wants to hang out with Linus. They’re both bowing out of Halloween
fun for the sake of doing something that they feel will be more
rewarding. In John Pig’s Halloween, written by Jan L. Waldron and
illustrated by David McPhail, the title character does not have other
plans. He is simply too frightened to go trick-or-treating.
This tall picture book is written in well-crafted verse. Each page features between two and eight lines following a simple AABB format. The rhythm is consistent if not perfect, and the wording is vivid without being overly complex. There are a few words that may be unfamiliar, but picture books are wonderful places for kids to bolster their vocabulary. One particularly promising verse reads, “One of the pigs wore a huge rubber nose, suspenders with knickers, and blue-checkered hose. A tiny, chic pig donned a towering chapeau, then finished things off with a tangerine bow.”
John appears to live in some sort of boarding house occupied solely by pigs. Based on the fact that they are trick-or-treating, I would presume them to be kids, though if that’s the case, there don’t seem to be any adults in the house. Additionally, John seems to be unusually handy in the kitchen for a youngster. It is not entirely clear what age these characters are supposed to be, but they feel youthful, at any rate.
The other pigs want to include John, but he is just too wimpy. He’s afraid of things that go bump in the night. Nonetheless, when a witch turns up at his house looking for tasty treats, kindness compels John to let her in. Perhaps he initially thinks her only another pig in costume, but it soon becomes apparent that she has magical powers. I’m reminded a bit of Bilbo Baggins, who welcomes Gandalf and extends his typical hospitality only to find his house filled with dwarves. John, instead, plays host to monsters and magical beings of all types. When they first arrive, his anxiety is apparent in his eyes, but as the night wears on, he begins to loosen up. Maybe these monsters aren’t so scary after all!
As I am a jittery sort myself, I can relate to John’s shyness and trepidation. While I have never been afraid to go out trick-or-treating, I understand how someone might be, and his nervousness at having all those odd creatures invade his home is entirely natural. Nonetheless, he not only muddles through, he actually enjoys himself. This, then, is a story about overcoming fear through compassionate impulses. The rhyme adds to the appealing storybook quality, and the illustrations are wonderful. I’ve enjoyed McPhail’s work since I was a toddler, and this 1998 book shows the same detail and artistry that I came to expect through books like Those Terrible Toy-Breakers.
This is the cutest Halloween picture book I have read in some time. Along with the quality illustrations and verse, it includes a worthwhile message about facing your fears, which security blanket-toting Linus would most likely appreciate. John Pig’s Halloween really is an occasion worth celebrating.
This tall picture book is written in well-crafted verse. Each page features between two and eight lines following a simple AABB format. The rhythm is consistent if not perfect, and the wording is vivid without being overly complex. There are a few words that may be unfamiliar, but picture books are wonderful places for kids to bolster their vocabulary. One particularly promising verse reads, “One of the pigs wore a huge rubber nose, suspenders with knickers, and blue-checkered hose. A tiny, chic pig donned a towering chapeau, then finished things off with a tangerine bow.”
John appears to live in some sort of boarding house occupied solely by pigs. Based on the fact that they are trick-or-treating, I would presume them to be kids, though if that’s the case, there don’t seem to be any adults in the house. Additionally, John seems to be unusually handy in the kitchen for a youngster. It is not entirely clear what age these characters are supposed to be, but they feel youthful, at any rate.
The other pigs want to include John, but he is just too wimpy. He’s afraid of things that go bump in the night. Nonetheless, when a witch turns up at his house looking for tasty treats, kindness compels John to let her in. Perhaps he initially thinks her only another pig in costume, but it soon becomes apparent that she has magical powers. I’m reminded a bit of Bilbo Baggins, who welcomes Gandalf and extends his typical hospitality only to find his house filled with dwarves. John, instead, plays host to monsters and magical beings of all types. When they first arrive, his anxiety is apparent in his eyes, but as the night wears on, he begins to loosen up. Maybe these monsters aren’t so scary after all!
As I am a jittery sort myself, I can relate to John’s shyness and trepidation. While I have never been afraid to go out trick-or-treating, I understand how someone might be, and his nervousness at having all those odd creatures invade his home is entirely natural. Nonetheless, he not only muddles through, he actually enjoys himself. This, then, is a story about overcoming fear through compassionate impulses. The rhyme adds to the appealing storybook quality, and the illustrations are wonderful. I’ve enjoyed McPhail’s work since I was a toddler, and this 1998 book shows the same detail and artistry that I came to expect through books like Those Terrible Toy-Breakers.
This is the cutest Halloween picture book I have read in some time. Along with the quality illustrations and verse, it includes a worthwhile message about facing your fears, which security blanket-toting Linus would most likely appreciate. John Pig’s Halloween really is an occasion worth celebrating.
The Bell Ringer Goes After Fallen Gargoyles in Quasimodo to the Rescue!
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
is an odd movie because it seems to aim at two different audiences,
never fully satisfying either. Most adults will probably find the antics
with the talking gargoyles gratuitously goofy, while kids are likely to
be frightened by a few sequences that are startlingly violent for a
Disney movie. I’m not sure if Disney has released any tie-in materials
that fully embrace the adult elements of the movie, but Quasimodo to the Rescue!, a part of Disney’s Wonderful World of Reading library, definitely emphasizes the more whimsical aspects of the story.
The only characters from the movie included in this book are Quasimodo, the hunchbacked man who lives in the bell tower of Notre Dame Cathedral; the beautiful gypsy Esmerelda and her pet goat Djali; and the gargoyles Victor, Hugo and Laverne. The beginning of the book establishes a sense of easy friendship between Quasimodo and Esmerelda, whose part in the story is actually pretty minor. It’s nice to think, though, that the two of them can still be good friends even though she is romantically involved with golden boy Phoebus, who doesn’t come into this story at all.
The main focus is on the gargoyles, who start off the story by grumbling about their circumstances. Stately Victor hates the racket of the bells, Hugo despises getting his wings wet when it rains and crotchety Laverne has had it up to here with pigeons perching on her. They’re not so sure that the bell tower life is all it’s cracked up to be. Then a mighty tumble sends them hurtling off the tower to land conveniently in a cart full of straw. Will they prefer their new life on the ground? Will Quasimodo be able to find his three closest friends again?
Victor, Hugo and Laverne are a curious trio because they seem to be mere products of Quasimodo’s imagination. No one else ever sees them move or hears them speak. Or is it a Toy Story situation, and Quasimodo just happens to have been granted a rare exemption to the Don’t Let People Know You’re Alive rule? I’ve never been sure, but I like to think of it as the latter, particularly in the context of this story, since Quasimodo is so bound and determined to rescue them. It’s one thing for him to go to a lot of trouble to retrieve them for his own sake, but if they truly exist independent of him, the action feels more heroic.
Although he still lives in the tower, Quasimodo is no longer a complete recluse. He doesn’t bother with a costume when he goes out in search of his friends, nor does he flinch when he comes into contact with others. He seems to have grown much more comfortable with human contact, and nobody seems to give him a hard time about his appearance. When one person is brusque with him, Quasimodo does not back down but instead devises a solution that will satisfy both him and the man who is irritated by his presence.
This is a thoroughly light-hearted tale that celebrates kindness to others, friends and strangers alike, and appreciation for one’s home despite its drawbacks. While none of the darker elements of the movie are hinted at here, it still feels true to the setting and characters, particularly the determined, sweet-natured protagonist. The simple writing – a couple of paragraphs on most pages – and vibrant pictures come together well to create a story that emphasizes the value of going the extra mile for the sake of friendship.
The only characters from the movie included in this book are Quasimodo, the hunchbacked man who lives in the bell tower of Notre Dame Cathedral; the beautiful gypsy Esmerelda and her pet goat Djali; and the gargoyles Victor, Hugo and Laverne. The beginning of the book establishes a sense of easy friendship between Quasimodo and Esmerelda, whose part in the story is actually pretty minor. It’s nice to think, though, that the two of them can still be good friends even though she is romantically involved with golden boy Phoebus, who doesn’t come into this story at all.
The main focus is on the gargoyles, who start off the story by grumbling about their circumstances. Stately Victor hates the racket of the bells, Hugo despises getting his wings wet when it rains and crotchety Laverne has had it up to here with pigeons perching on her. They’re not so sure that the bell tower life is all it’s cracked up to be. Then a mighty tumble sends them hurtling off the tower to land conveniently in a cart full of straw. Will they prefer their new life on the ground? Will Quasimodo be able to find his three closest friends again?
Victor, Hugo and Laverne are a curious trio because they seem to be mere products of Quasimodo’s imagination. No one else ever sees them move or hears them speak. Or is it a Toy Story situation, and Quasimodo just happens to have been granted a rare exemption to the Don’t Let People Know You’re Alive rule? I’ve never been sure, but I like to think of it as the latter, particularly in the context of this story, since Quasimodo is so bound and determined to rescue them. It’s one thing for him to go to a lot of trouble to retrieve them for his own sake, but if they truly exist independent of him, the action feels more heroic.
Although he still lives in the tower, Quasimodo is no longer a complete recluse. He doesn’t bother with a costume when he goes out in search of his friends, nor does he flinch when he comes into contact with others. He seems to have grown much more comfortable with human contact, and nobody seems to give him a hard time about his appearance. When one person is brusque with him, Quasimodo does not back down but instead devises a solution that will satisfy both him and the man who is irritated by his presence.
This is a thoroughly light-hearted tale that celebrates kindness to others, friends and strangers alike, and appreciation for one’s home despite its drawbacks. While none of the darker elements of the movie are hinted at here, it still feels true to the setting and characters, particularly the determined, sweet-natured protagonist. The simple writing – a couple of paragraphs on most pages – and vibrant pictures come together well to create a story that emphasizes the value of going the extra mile for the sake of friendship.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Different Colors Make the Pooh Playing Card Deck Attractive But Hard to Use
It’s no secret to anyone I know that I am a big fan of Winnie the Pooh.
Add that to my fondness for playing cards and it’s little wonder that I
have received more than one deck of Winnie the Pooh playing cards over
the years. The sturdy deck produced by the United States Playing Card
Company comes in an attractive pastel purple box whose front shows a
drowsy Pooh Bear happily snoozing in a hammock. A simplified version of
this same picture appears on each of the four ace cards.
In terms of image variety, this isn’t the most complex of card decks, since it only uses 13 different pictures, plus pictures of Pooh and Tigger that take up the whole card for the jokers. The ace, jack queen and king each have a thin border with yellow on the left side, pink on the right and either purple or blue on the top and bottom, depending on the suit. Otherwise, the background is white, and that white background is uninterrupted for cards two through ten.
The most unusual thing about this deck of cards is the fact that instead of having black clubs and spades and red hearts and diamonds, it has purple clubs and spades and blue hearts and diamonds. The reason for this is aesthetic, as it goes so nicely with the cheerful color palette used in the pictures themselves, and I do like it from that standpoint. On the other hand, my brain is so used to the established colors that I tend to get a little confused when I play with this deck. It’s not a problem if I’m playing something simple like golf, which allows me to take my time, but if I’m playing a fast-paced game of double solitaire, this is not a deck I prefer to use.
For numbers two through ten, the icons emblematic of that particular suit are featured on the card. For instance, the nine of hearts has nine hearts on it. Hence, there’s not a lot of room for pictures. Out of necessity, only the jack, queen and king can be really large. The hammock picture on the ace doesn’t take up much room because of the large “Disney’s Winnie the Pooh” floating above it. Of Pooh’s jumbo poses, my favorite is probably the one on the queen card, which shows him clutching a bouquet of purple flowers and smiling, eyes closed. However, I also love the jack, on which he stands with his nose tilted upward as a butterfly lands upon it. The king pose is actually identical to the eight aside from the size, which is a bit boring; I would have thought something different could have been done for the final card in the suit.
Among the regular numbers, we have a variety of poses, some more interesting than others. Pooh is alone on seven and eight, whereas he has company on all the other cards, though in the case of three, it seems to be his imagination that Heffalumps and Woozles are peering at him through the mirror. The box for this deck includes an advertisement for The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, the show that really made me an ardent enthusiast of the Silly Old Bear and his friends, and the style of the pictures reflects that. The pictures are very detailed and cheerful. My favorite is probably two, in which Piglet offers a pot of honey to a kingly Pooh as Tigger, a pot atop his head, stands guard. I also love ten, in which the two friends surprise Pooh with a birthday party. However, I was a little disappointed that only Tigger and Piglet appear in the deck. That leaves out Rabbit and Eeyore, who are usually just as prominent as Piglet and Tigger, as well as the more infrequent Kanga, Roo, Owl, Christopher Robin and Gopher, who isn’t in the books but is at the heart of some of the show’s most memorable episodes.
With seven other major characters unrepresented here, there is plenty of reason to introduce other decks into the mix, which the company has done. Still, this is a very nice deck for those who love Pooh, Tigger, Piglet and the simple pleasures depicted on these cards. Each card is sturdy and smooth, making this an easy deck to use with any number of traditional card games. While I would recommend it primarily for slower-paced games, if you are not so easily addled, you should be able to use it for whatever card game you enjoy most. Card-playing, like most activities, is so much friendlier with Pooh!
In terms of image variety, this isn’t the most complex of card decks, since it only uses 13 different pictures, plus pictures of Pooh and Tigger that take up the whole card for the jokers. The ace, jack queen and king each have a thin border with yellow on the left side, pink on the right and either purple or blue on the top and bottom, depending on the suit. Otherwise, the background is white, and that white background is uninterrupted for cards two through ten.
The most unusual thing about this deck of cards is the fact that instead of having black clubs and spades and red hearts and diamonds, it has purple clubs and spades and blue hearts and diamonds. The reason for this is aesthetic, as it goes so nicely with the cheerful color palette used in the pictures themselves, and I do like it from that standpoint. On the other hand, my brain is so used to the established colors that I tend to get a little confused when I play with this deck. It’s not a problem if I’m playing something simple like golf, which allows me to take my time, but if I’m playing a fast-paced game of double solitaire, this is not a deck I prefer to use.
For numbers two through ten, the icons emblematic of that particular suit are featured on the card. For instance, the nine of hearts has nine hearts on it. Hence, there’s not a lot of room for pictures. Out of necessity, only the jack, queen and king can be really large. The hammock picture on the ace doesn’t take up much room because of the large “Disney’s Winnie the Pooh” floating above it. Of Pooh’s jumbo poses, my favorite is probably the one on the queen card, which shows him clutching a bouquet of purple flowers and smiling, eyes closed. However, I also love the jack, on which he stands with his nose tilted upward as a butterfly lands upon it. The king pose is actually identical to the eight aside from the size, which is a bit boring; I would have thought something different could have been done for the final card in the suit.
Among the regular numbers, we have a variety of poses, some more interesting than others. Pooh is alone on seven and eight, whereas he has company on all the other cards, though in the case of three, it seems to be his imagination that Heffalumps and Woozles are peering at him through the mirror. The box for this deck includes an advertisement for The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, the show that really made me an ardent enthusiast of the Silly Old Bear and his friends, and the style of the pictures reflects that. The pictures are very detailed and cheerful. My favorite is probably two, in which Piglet offers a pot of honey to a kingly Pooh as Tigger, a pot atop his head, stands guard. I also love ten, in which the two friends surprise Pooh with a birthday party. However, I was a little disappointed that only Tigger and Piglet appear in the deck. That leaves out Rabbit and Eeyore, who are usually just as prominent as Piglet and Tigger, as well as the more infrequent Kanga, Roo, Owl, Christopher Robin and Gopher, who isn’t in the books but is at the heart of some of the show’s most memorable episodes.
With seven other major characters unrepresented here, there is plenty of reason to introduce other decks into the mix, which the company has done. Still, this is a very nice deck for those who love Pooh, Tigger, Piglet and the simple pleasures depicted on these cards. Each card is sturdy and smooth, making this an easy deck to use with any number of traditional card games. While I would recommend it primarily for slower-paced games, if you are not so easily addled, you should be able to use it for whatever card game you enjoy most. Card-playing, like most activities, is so much friendlier with Pooh!
Monday, October 24, 2011
Robert Munsch Celebrates Halloween Looting in BOO!
Robert Munsch is best known as the author of Love You Forever, a tender, tear-jerking classic picture book, so I was a little surprised when I read BOO!,
his Halloween book that is illustrated by Michael Martchenko. It is not
a warm and fuzzy story. In fact, the main character might be aptly
described as a hooligan. Then again, since Munsch also wrote Angela's Airplane, about a kid who semi-accidentally steals and wrecks an airplane, I probably shouldn't be too taken aback.
Lance is the child at the heart of the story, and the book is also dedicated to someone by that name. I don’t know if this tale was inspired by his personality or actions or if Munsch just decided to name the character after him; I’m a bit curious about that. Lance is a clever dark-skinned kid who looks to be at least ten. He seems to enjoy a very close relationship with his parents, who encourage his creativity. Lance’s goal is to make himself very scary, and he won’t go out trick-or-treating until he succeeds in making his parents topple over in fear at the sight of him.
This book is greatly exaggerated. Lance looks totally normal except for the ghostly pillowcase over his head. When he pulls it up and says “BOO!” he reveals a heavily painted face, and allegedly it is so horrific that it is capable of terrifying any adult into submission. When we finally get the full force of it, it’s scary, but certainly not enough to elicit that kind of reaction. Still, Lance’s insistence on giving people a fright might be excusable – it is Halloween, after all – if it weren’t for the behavior that follows.
At each stop, he takes more and more liberties in collecting goodies after the greeter has passed out. It’s a good thing for him that he apparently only stops at homes currently occupied by one person. There’s nobody else there to stop him from making off with all the Halloween candy in the bowl or emptying the refrigerator of all its tasty treats. What’s more, he has an encounter with a cop, who doesn’t seem in the least troubled when he brags about his looting and simply is interested in proving that he is too tough to be scared by some cocky kid.
The illustrations are amusing, albeit overblown. The reactions we see from those who look at Lance are absurd. The tone is comical, so I don’t think there’s much danger of young readers being frightened by all the open-mouthed expressions of terror, but a couple could be a little startling. The writing is fine, with the repetition heightening the tension but ultimately making the story even more predictable. In the end, Lance is a smart, artistic kid, but if this is the way that he channels his talents, it looks to me like he is headed for trouble, especially if all the authority figures in his life keep indulging his selfish whims.
BOO! may be rather entertaining, but the title pretty much describes my reaction to it.
Lance is the child at the heart of the story, and the book is also dedicated to someone by that name. I don’t know if this tale was inspired by his personality or actions or if Munsch just decided to name the character after him; I’m a bit curious about that. Lance is a clever dark-skinned kid who looks to be at least ten. He seems to enjoy a very close relationship with his parents, who encourage his creativity. Lance’s goal is to make himself very scary, and he won’t go out trick-or-treating until he succeeds in making his parents topple over in fear at the sight of him.
This book is greatly exaggerated. Lance looks totally normal except for the ghostly pillowcase over his head. When he pulls it up and says “BOO!” he reveals a heavily painted face, and allegedly it is so horrific that it is capable of terrifying any adult into submission. When we finally get the full force of it, it’s scary, but certainly not enough to elicit that kind of reaction. Still, Lance’s insistence on giving people a fright might be excusable – it is Halloween, after all – if it weren’t for the behavior that follows.
At each stop, he takes more and more liberties in collecting goodies after the greeter has passed out. It’s a good thing for him that he apparently only stops at homes currently occupied by one person. There’s nobody else there to stop him from making off with all the Halloween candy in the bowl or emptying the refrigerator of all its tasty treats. What’s more, he has an encounter with a cop, who doesn’t seem in the least troubled when he brags about his looting and simply is interested in proving that he is too tough to be scared by some cocky kid.
The illustrations are amusing, albeit overblown. The reactions we see from those who look at Lance are absurd. The tone is comical, so I don’t think there’s much danger of young readers being frightened by all the open-mouthed expressions of terror, but a couple could be a little startling. The writing is fine, with the repetition heightening the tension but ultimately making the story even more predictable. In the end, Lance is a smart, artistic kid, but if this is the way that he channels his talents, it looks to me like he is headed for trouble, especially if all the authority figures in his life keep indulging his selfish whims.
BOO! may be rather entertaining, but the title pretty much describes my reaction to it.
Of Mice and Me, Both Skewered at the David Sedaris Reading at Mercyhurst College, 10-22-11
During my last semester of college, I was introduced to the work of David Sedaris
in a Creative Non-Fiction class. While it was a writing course, we read
several books in order to give us an idea of the different memoir
styles out there and integrate techniques employed by the writers into
our own work. Of all the writers I encountered in college for the first
time, Sedaris is one of my favorites. While some of his essays get
pretty off-color, there’s just something so irresistible about his
pointed observations about the absurdities of how people interact with
each other. Much of what he says rings very true to my ordinary
experience, while some of his more outlandish stories make me wonder how
he ever survived his 20s. He’s a riveting storyteller.
However, my experience of Sedaris is almost entirely limited to the page. I’m not much for audiobooks and I’ve rarely caught him on National Public Radio, where he often reads essays, but those who have listened to him more than read him have insisted that his work is far more entertaining when he reads it himself. Thus, when my brother Nathan told me that Sedaris would be giving a reading at Mercyhurst College, it didn’t take a lot of persuading to convince me to go too. Also attending were his girlfriend Morgan and my mom, whose exposure to Sedaris was very limited. I wasn’t sure what she would make of him, but while some of his discussion topics made her squirm a bit, she mostly found him very funny and astute.
We bought our tickets in late August, and by the time of the reading on October 22, the theatre, which accommodates several hundred, was sold out. It got started a bit late, allowing time for stragglers to make their way in from the lobby, and lasted just over an hour and a half, with Sedaris reading four full-length stories, followed by excerpts from his diary. He also took a little time out for questions from the audience at the end.
His first selection was The Squirrel and the Chipmunk, the story from which the cover illustration of his latest book is taken. This collection of animal fables is a departure for him, as he mostly writes of his own experiences. However, the tales here certainly have applicability to people, and that’s especially true of this story, which deals with prejudice, peer pressure and fear of the unknown getting in the way of a relationship. It’s a bittersweet story, yet it is not simply a case of a perfect relationship being ruined by disapproving relatives. It also demonstrates how much better things tend to look in hindsight, especially when they have been, to some extent, forcibly taken away.
The longest and most riotous of the stories was the second, Easy, Tiger, a New Yorker piece in which Sedaris discusses the oddities of the Pimsleur language instruction tapes that he has used to help him navigate other countries. In it, he shares several actual conversations used on these tapes, commenting on the uselessness of some of the banter and what the differences in dialogue between languages reveals about the countries in which they are spoken. For this, he played us samples of actual Pimsleur tapes and also demonstrated his skills in Japanese, Italian and German. The impact of his expressive voice, whose timbre is remarkably like that of John Fiedler, who played Piglet for about four decades in various Disney projects, is amplified by his impeccable comic timing. While this essay was mostly funny, it also posed some interesting questions about how and why we learn foreign languages and whether, as more and more people around the world learn English, Americans will cease to bother trying to bridge the communication gap themselves.
Atta Boy, which comments on today’s tendency toward over-indulgent parenting as compared with the brutal but effective tactics employed by his father and, to a lesser extent, mother, resonated strongly with many in the audience. Looking around, I could see a lot of people nodding in agreement with his disgust over the parents who threaten to sic the police on a man who lays a hand on their son to apprehend him after catching him at spray-painting a mailbox. His description of his own parents is howlingly funny, particularly his aggressive dad who hoards after-work snacks, threatens to pummel neighborhood smart-alecks and removes his pants during dinner – and, when the doorbell interrupts the meal, insists on answering the door himself. I think a lot of people felt pretty grateful for their families after hearing this essay.
The final essay focused on Sedaris’s experiences with various doctors, including one whose response to medical issues is too lackadaisical for his liking and another who subjects him to bizarre travel shows on mute while he is poking around in his mouth. This was the essay that inspired my brother, who recently graduated from college with a Fine Arts degree, to draw a mouse on a skewer for him as a gift in exchange for his autograph. It was as funny as the others, and we got to hear him speak French, but I was glad when it was over because all that medical talk was getting rather icky.
The diary entries were taken from the last two years and mostly commented on individuals who struck him as unusual or related jokes that people had told him at readings. These were invariably crude, as was a quip about a quiz show that most of the audience didn’t get, and it kind of worries me that I did. The funniest bit was probably his baffled description of the Occupy Wall Street protesters he encountered in the organic hipster wonderland of Burlington, Vermont. Most of these were very short, sometimes only a couple of sentences, and it was fun to get these quick laughs after the much longer stories.
The question and answer period wasn’t all that illuminating, especially since one of the questions was incomprehensible, but his recollection of the crummy Bangor, Maine motel where he stayed during this tour was hilarious. On the more serious side, he encouraged everyone to go out into the lobby and buy a copy of Peter Kessler’s River Town, a piece of immersion journalism about life among Chinese schoolchildren that particularly impressed Sedaris.
After the reading, the audience had three options: leave, head for the book table or line up for the signing. I’d brought a book, so I got in the signing line, though it took me a while to get there, especially since we bumped into a friend on the way out of the theater, and as a result, Mom and I wound up near the back of the line, which barely seemed to move at all in the first half hour. Nathan and Morgan opted to lounge around the lobby, where they had a good view of the signing table where Sedaris was engaging each person who came up to him in conversation. After more than an hour of waiting, Mom got Nathan to take her place in line while she found a bench, and I gave him the pen and notepad for him to draw his skewered mouse while we waited. As we drew closer, we caught snatches of his conversation with other attendees. I especially liked his request to the 13-year-old pianist ahead of us to, after his concert the next day, “Go out and do something autumnal. Rake some leaves, do something with an apple… I don’t know. Just go outside and be autumnal!”
When we finally made it to the table, I presented my book, the copy of Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk that Nathan had bought me for Christmas, and I mentioned that I had bought it for Nathan as well and that we’d snapped a picture of us holding up our identical books. He made a comment about the dangers of that happening in a family at Christmas and how he and his sister had bought each other the same CD or DVD on occasion. He signed the book “To Erin with friendly friendship” and handed it back… and then he noticed my “purse.” “I’m sorry, is that your purse?” he asked. I replied that it had started out as a camera bag and I ended up just carrying it around everywhere. It’s a clunky red and black thing, not ladylike in any sense of the word but certainly utilitarian. “I just have to say,” he persisted, “that is the most ungainly handbag I have ever seen. I mean, if there was a contest for ugly purses, that would take first prize!”
Well, what can I say? I’ve never claimed to fashion-conscious. I just sort of smiled and shrugged, and he shook his head and laughed, and then he noticed the button on the side. He asked what it said, and I explained that I’d picked it up in Salem, Massachussetts – the trip, incidentally, which made me decide to switch from raggedy ten-year-old purse to hardy compact camera bag – and that it read, “Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.” Of course, he informed me that the dragon button just made the ensemble all that much worse, and then he fixed his eye on my green VeggieTales bracelet and asked if that was to go with the button, and I told him that it was a bracelet tied in with the kids’ video series VeggieTales. At this point, he was looking at me a bit like I was some sort of intergalactic visitor, and he laughed again and said, “You are absolutely adorable.”
Nathan should have gone first because I’d already introduced him as my brother, so the signature he got in his copy of Holidays on Ice was “Think Celine,” who Sedaris informed him is a designer of upscale handbags whose work he insisted Nathan track down so he could get me a less mortifying purse for Christmas. However, he seemed delighted with Nathan’s detailed doodle – “Oh! It’s a mouse on a skewer! Well, look at that!” – and then the two of them spent a few minutes discussing their favorite artists, so I think that Nathan probably managed to demonstrate that his visual tastes are a little more refined than his sister’s. We each selected a twisted postcard to tote home with us; I was hoping to snag the one cheerily chirping, “Let’s explore diabetes with owls!” but that was gone by the time I got there, so I had to satisfy myself with the Pekingese skull.
It was closing in on midnight by the time we left, so it was a full evening, and not only did I have the pleasure of listening to him share his keen insights with that wonderful delivery, I think I also got a taste for what it must feel like to be an inadequate American Idol contestant in front of Simon Cowell. Or Ugly Betty. But hey, at least I’m adorable!
However, my experience of Sedaris is almost entirely limited to the page. I’m not much for audiobooks and I’ve rarely caught him on National Public Radio, where he often reads essays, but those who have listened to him more than read him have insisted that his work is far more entertaining when he reads it himself. Thus, when my brother Nathan told me that Sedaris would be giving a reading at Mercyhurst College, it didn’t take a lot of persuading to convince me to go too. Also attending were his girlfriend Morgan and my mom, whose exposure to Sedaris was very limited. I wasn’t sure what she would make of him, but while some of his discussion topics made her squirm a bit, she mostly found him very funny and astute.
We bought our tickets in late August, and by the time of the reading on October 22, the theatre, which accommodates several hundred, was sold out. It got started a bit late, allowing time for stragglers to make their way in from the lobby, and lasted just over an hour and a half, with Sedaris reading four full-length stories, followed by excerpts from his diary. He also took a little time out for questions from the audience at the end.
His first selection was The Squirrel and the Chipmunk, the story from which the cover illustration of his latest book is taken. This collection of animal fables is a departure for him, as he mostly writes of his own experiences. However, the tales here certainly have applicability to people, and that’s especially true of this story, which deals with prejudice, peer pressure and fear of the unknown getting in the way of a relationship. It’s a bittersweet story, yet it is not simply a case of a perfect relationship being ruined by disapproving relatives. It also demonstrates how much better things tend to look in hindsight, especially when they have been, to some extent, forcibly taken away.
The longest and most riotous of the stories was the second, Easy, Tiger, a New Yorker piece in which Sedaris discusses the oddities of the Pimsleur language instruction tapes that he has used to help him navigate other countries. In it, he shares several actual conversations used on these tapes, commenting on the uselessness of some of the banter and what the differences in dialogue between languages reveals about the countries in which they are spoken. For this, he played us samples of actual Pimsleur tapes and also demonstrated his skills in Japanese, Italian and German. The impact of his expressive voice, whose timbre is remarkably like that of John Fiedler, who played Piglet for about four decades in various Disney projects, is amplified by his impeccable comic timing. While this essay was mostly funny, it also posed some interesting questions about how and why we learn foreign languages and whether, as more and more people around the world learn English, Americans will cease to bother trying to bridge the communication gap themselves.
Atta Boy, which comments on today’s tendency toward over-indulgent parenting as compared with the brutal but effective tactics employed by his father and, to a lesser extent, mother, resonated strongly with many in the audience. Looking around, I could see a lot of people nodding in agreement with his disgust over the parents who threaten to sic the police on a man who lays a hand on their son to apprehend him after catching him at spray-painting a mailbox. His description of his own parents is howlingly funny, particularly his aggressive dad who hoards after-work snacks, threatens to pummel neighborhood smart-alecks and removes his pants during dinner – and, when the doorbell interrupts the meal, insists on answering the door himself. I think a lot of people felt pretty grateful for their families after hearing this essay.
The final essay focused on Sedaris’s experiences with various doctors, including one whose response to medical issues is too lackadaisical for his liking and another who subjects him to bizarre travel shows on mute while he is poking around in his mouth. This was the essay that inspired my brother, who recently graduated from college with a Fine Arts degree, to draw a mouse on a skewer for him as a gift in exchange for his autograph. It was as funny as the others, and we got to hear him speak French, but I was glad when it was over because all that medical talk was getting rather icky.
The diary entries were taken from the last two years and mostly commented on individuals who struck him as unusual or related jokes that people had told him at readings. These were invariably crude, as was a quip about a quiz show that most of the audience didn’t get, and it kind of worries me that I did. The funniest bit was probably his baffled description of the Occupy Wall Street protesters he encountered in the organic hipster wonderland of Burlington, Vermont. Most of these were very short, sometimes only a couple of sentences, and it was fun to get these quick laughs after the much longer stories.
The question and answer period wasn’t all that illuminating, especially since one of the questions was incomprehensible, but his recollection of the crummy Bangor, Maine motel where he stayed during this tour was hilarious. On the more serious side, he encouraged everyone to go out into the lobby and buy a copy of Peter Kessler’s River Town, a piece of immersion journalism about life among Chinese schoolchildren that particularly impressed Sedaris.
After the reading, the audience had three options: leave, head for the book table or line up for the signing. I’d brought a book, so I got in the signing line, though it took me a while to get there, especially since we bumped into a friend on the way out of the theater, and as a result, Mom and I wound up near the back of the line, which barely seemed to move at all in the first half hour. Nathan and Morgan opted to lounge around the lobby, where they had a good view of the signing table where Sedaris was engaging each person who came up to him in conversation. After more than an hour of waiting, Mom got Nathan to take her place in line while she found a bench, and I gave him the pen and notepad for him to draw his skewered mouse while we waited. As we drew closer, we caught snatches of his conversation with other attendees. I especially liked his request to the 13-year-old pianist ahead of us to, after his concert the next day, “Go out and do something autumnal. Rake some leaves, do something with an apple… I don’t know. Just go outside and be autumnal!”
When we finally made it to the table, I presented my book, the copy of Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk that Nathan had bought me for Christmas, and I mentioned that I had bought it for Nathan as well and that we’d snapped a picture of us holding up our identical books. He made a comment about the dangers of that happening in a family at Christmas and how he and his sister had bought each other the same CD or DVD on occasion. He signed the book “To Erin with friendly friendship” and handed it back… and then he noticed my “purse.” “I’m sorry, is that your purse?” he asked. I replied that it had started out as a camera bag and I ended up just carrying it around everywhere. It’s a clunky red and black thing, not ladylike in any sense of the word but certainly utilitarian. “I just have to say,” he persisted, “that is the most ungainly handbag I have ever seen. I mean, if there was a contest for ugly purses, that would take first prize!”
Well, what can I say? I’ve never claimed to fashion-conscious. I just sort of smiled and shrugged, and he shook his head and laughed, and then he noticed the button on the side. He asked what it said, and I explained that I’d picked it up in Salem, Massachussetts – the trip, incidentally, which made me decide to switch from raggedy ten-year-old purse to hardy compact camera bag – and that it read, “Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.” Of course, he informed me that the dragon button just made the ensemble all that much worse, and then he fixed his eye on my green VeggieTales bracelet and asked if that was to go with the button, and I told him that it was a bracelet tied in with the kids’ video series VeggieTales. At this point, he was looking at me a bit like I was some sort of intergalactic visitor, and he laughed again and said, “You are absolutely adorable.”
Nathan should have gone first because I’d already introduced him as my brother, so the signature he got in his copy of Holidays on Ice was “Think Celine,” who Sedaris informed him is a designer of upscale handbags whose work he insisted Nathan track down so he could get me a less mortifying purse for Christmas. However, he seemed delighted with Nathan’s detailed doodle – “Oh! It’s a mouse on a skewer! Well, look at that!” – and then the two of them spent a few minutes discussing their favorite artists, so I think that Nathan probably managed to demonstrate that his visual tastes are a little more refined than his sister’s. We each selected a twisted postcard to tote home with us; I was hoping to snag the one cheerily chirping, “Let’s explore diabetes with owls!” but that was gone by the time I got there, so I had to satisfy myself with the Pekingese skull.
It was closing in on midnight by the time we left, so it was a full evening, and not only did I have the pleasure of listening to him share his keen insights with that wonderful delivery, I think I also got a taste for what it must feel like to be an inadequate American Idol contestant in front of Simon Cowell. Or Ugly Betty. But hey, at least I’m adorable!
Darkwing Duck Throws Out the Rule Book in Clean Money
Disney superhero Darkwing Duck is a tireless defender of truth and
justice, but he’s not much of a stickler for the rules. In the picture
book Clean Money, written by Barbara Bazaldua and illustrated by
Sue DiCicco, he is caught in a conflict between his own unconventional
but tried and true methods and the secret agent handbook he has been
instructed to follow. If he doesn’t go by the book, he incurs the wrath
of his temporary boss, an ornery bear named Gryzlikoff. But can he solve
this latest crime without using his own flair?
The main characters here are Darkwing Duck, who appears in costume throughout the entire story, and his faithful sidekick Launchpad McQuack, a lovable lummox who also plays a major role in the DuckTales series. We don’t ever hear any reference to Darkwing’s ordinary citizen identity, Drake Mallard, or see his adopted daughter Gosalyn; the complication of switching personas doesn’t come into the story at all. However, it’s still a fun tale.
J. Gander Hooter, Darkwing’s commander at the S.H.U.S.H. secret agency, is kidnapped shortly after appealing to him to figure out why all the money in the city is going blank. With stripped money and a missing boss on his hands, he and Launchpad have their work cut out for them to track down the despicable cleaning lady Ammonia Pine, whose villainous deeds we see before they do. Cracking this case won’t be easy with Gryzlikoff tailing them the whole way, however. Talk about making the job tougher!
This is a cute book that fans of the TV show should enjoy. The illustrations are enjoyable, particularly the depictions of super-resilient bubbles, and the resolution with the villain is amusingly rendered. The writing is fairly simple but not overly geared to young readers. It reads smoothly, with occasional puns worked into the dialogue. One thing I found interesting is the fact that in Ammonia’s encounters with Darkwing and Launchpad, she refers to them collectively as “ducks” in a sneering tone. It looks to me like she is a duck as well, though she is never specifically identified as such.
The idea of a cleaning lady being evil probably appeals to many kids, especially since the best weapon with which to fight her is dirt. Getting dirty is a good thing here, and tweaking the rules a bit turns out to be a pretty good idea too. Embracing messiness and “a certain disregard for the rules,” as Albus Dumbledore once put it, are urges that seem to hit most kids at one time or another, so Clean Money is an especially enjoyable bit of escapism for the mildly rebellious youngster.
The main characters here are Darkwing Duck, who appears in costume throughout the entire story, and his faithful sidekick Launchpad McQuack, a lovable lummox who also plays a major role in the DuckTales series. We don’t ever hear any reference to Darkwing’s ordinary citizen identity, Drake Mallard, or see his adopted daughter Gosalyn; the complication of switching personas doesn’t come into the story at all. However, it’s still a fun tale.
J. Gander Hooter, Darkwing’s commander at the S.H.U.S.H. secret agency, is kidnapped shortly after appealing to him to figure out why all the money in the city is going blank. With stripped money and a missing boss on his hands, he and Launchpad have their work cut out for them to track down the despicable cleaning lady Ammonia Pine, whose villainous deeds we see before they do. Cracking this case won’t be easy with Gryzlikoff tailing them the whole way, however. Talk about making the job tougher!
This is a cute book that fans of the TV show should enjoy. The illustrations are enjoyable, particularly the depictions of super-resilient bubbles, and the resolution with the villain is amusingly rendered. The writing is fairly simple but not overly geared to young readers. It reads smoothly, with occasional puns worked into the dialogue. One thing I found interesting is the fact that in Ammonia’s encounters with Darkwing and Launchpad, she refers to them collectively as “ducks” in a sneering tone. It looks to me like she is a duck as well, though she is never specifically identified as such.
The idea of a cleaning lady being evil probably appeals to many kids, especially since the best weapon with which to fight her is dirt. Getting dirty is a good thing here, and tweaking the rules a bit turns out to be a pretty good idea too. Embracing messiness and “a certain disregard for the rules,” as Albus Dumbledore once put it, are urges that seem to hit most kids at one time or another, so Clean Money is an especially enjoyable bit of escapism for the mildly rebellious youngster.
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