Favourite favourites...

I finally decided to get in on posting my favourite books!
Of course, now that it's no longer a 'thing' that people are doing, I suppose I'm a little late with it.
Either that or I'm super early with the next 'list-a-thon'.  Either way, if you guys enjoy reading lists of other people's favourite things as much as I do......well.....you're in for a treat!
Of course, I know some people think that it's just as exciting to read someones shopping list....and if that's the case, come back next Wednesday when I'll be posting the one where my grandson wrote 'candy' in crayon at the bottom of the list, just below crazy glue, batteries, nail polish remover and vodka.
Until then, I hope you enjoy this list.

I can't really place these in any particular order of preference, since I really like them all...so, even though they do appear in a particular order, (the alternative being a jumbled mess) that order has nothing to do with how much they are loved by me....
.....here I go....
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1. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, By Dave Eggers

"These things, these details, stories, whatever, are like the skin shed by snakes, who leave theirs for anyone to see. What does he care where it is, who sees it, this snake and his skin. He leaves it where he molts. Hours, days or months later, we come across a snake's long-shed skin, and we know something of the snake, we know that it's of this approximate girth and that approximate length, but we know very little else. Do we know where the snake is now? What the snake is thinking now? No. By now the snake could be wearing fur; the snake could be selling pencils in Hanoi. The skin is no longer his, he wore it because it grew from him, but then it dried and slipped off and he and everyone could look at it." ~ Dave Eggers;                   A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

Dave Eggers is exactly my kind of writer.
 This book, his memoir, is funny, moving, intelligent, real and raw....and, yes, heartbreaking.
The book opens, (after a list of 'Rules and Suggestions for Enjoyment of this Book') with Dave taking care of his mother, who is dying of cancer. He is twenty years old. His parents die within five weeks of each other, and he becomes effectively, a single parent in charge of his seven year old brother Toph.
Okay, I know it doesn't exactly sound like there's a lot of humour in it, but there is. If you love memoirs, or just a good story, I'm sure you'll enjoy this one as much as I did.

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2.  Norman Bray in the Performance of His Life, by Trevor Cole

Norman Bray is an ageing dinner theatre actor with an ego as huge as his burgeoning financial and personal problems. He has renounced all responsibility, for just about everything, in the name of his art.
Norman Bray is probably the most self absorbed character I've ever read.
 It's ridiculous how he doesn't seem to grasp the fact his career has faded and the wolves are circling. He is on the brink of financial and personal ruin, and doesn't get it....he performs his life as though it were a stage play.

The book starts like this:

"Watch the man being seated at a table in the middle of the Skelton Arms pub. He has been shown a table to the side, but no, he prefers the one in the middle, so that is where he sits. His name is Norman Bray. You won't have heard of it before, although that fact might surprise him."
~ opening paragraph of Norman Bray in the Performance of His Life.
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3. The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde

I have been reading this book every few years since I was thirteen years old. It is Oscar Wilde's only novel, the majority of his writing career being padded out with plays, fairy tales and poems. I think everyone is familiar with the story, Dorian Gray retains his beautiful looks and vibrant youth, while every crime and evil deed he does, shows up on the face of his portrait, which he keeps hidden from the world.
The novel was originally published in Lippincott's Monthly Magazine, in July, 1890. It is tame by today's standards I suppose, but back in 1890-91 it was regarded by most as vile and  immoral.
This reaction prompted Wilde to add a preface to the next edition, which said, in part,

"There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written.
That is all."
You said it Oscar!

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4. When You Are Engulfed in Flames, by David Sedaris

I am mad for David Sedaris! I love this book. It's a book of short, short stories, vignettes and slices of life... and most of them are really funny. The ones that aren't really funny, are still just plain funny.

“May I bring you a drink to go with those warm nuts, Mr. Sedaris?" this woman looking after me asked - this as the people in coach were still boarding. The looks they gave me as they passed were the looks I give when the door of a limousine opens. You always expect to see a movie star, or, at the very least, someone better dressed than you, but time and time again it's just a sloppy nobody. Thus the look, which translates to, Fuck you, Sloppy Nobody, for making me turn my head.” 
― David Sedaris, When You Are Engulfed in Flames
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5. Diary of a Madman, by Nicolai Gogol

Here's another fantastically ancient book. This story was originally published in 1835. It takes place in the era of Czar Nicholas 1, and chronicles the descent into madness of one civil servant, who believes himself to be the new King of Spain.

It is very funny, and very sad...from a perceived love affair between two dogs, to his strange 'coronation', we catch a glimpse inside the protagonist's ever more wobbly mind.

Here's proof that something written almost 180 years ago is still funny and poignant. 

“April 43rd 2000

Today is the day of great triumph. There is a king of Spain. He has been found at last. That king is me. I only discovered this today. Frankly, it all came to me in a flash.” 
― Nikolai Gogol, Diary of a Madman and Other Stories

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6. The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger

I know, this novel is most often associated with required reading in high school, (at least it used to be) and the book Mark Chapman was reading as he waited for the police after murdering John Lennon. 

My guess is that most of you have read this book at some point in your life, and we've all experienced the confusion of teenage angst, alienation, identity and loss. 

"Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them—if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry.” 

― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

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7. Literary Lapses, by Stephen Leacock

This book of hilarious short stories was originally published in 1910, (okay, I can hear everyones eyes rolling at the fact that this is, yet another book from a past century...I can't help it!....and yes, I've read this one many times too....) and sold at CN Rail stations so commuters would have some light reading on their journeys.

Turns out that Stephen Leacock, the economist, was a genius writer of comedy stories, and he is a Canadian hero. His former home in Orillia, Ontario is a National Historic Site, and well worth visiting if you are a fan. I adore him.

This is from his Literary Lapses story, "How to Live to be 200", about a man, Jiggins, who had, 'the health habit.'

"...In the evenings in his room he used to lift iron bars, cannon-balls, heave dumbbells, and haul himself up to the ceiling with his teeth. You could hear the thumps half a mile.

He liked it.

He spent half the night slinging himself around his room. He said it made his brain clear. When he got his brain perfectly clear, he went to bed and slept. As soon as he woke, he began clearing it again.

Jiggins is dead."

This well known quote is from the story 'Gertrude the Governess':

"Lord Ronald said nothing. He flung himself from the room, flung himself upon his horse, and rode madly off in all directions."

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8. The Stone Angel, by Margaret Laurence

This is another book that has been part of my life for years.

 Hagar Shipley will do that to you. Hagar is a 90 year old woman, struggling to come to grips with the fact that her family is thinking that the best place for her is a nursing home. As she reminisces about her youth, her marriage and the childhoods of her sons, she does the only reasonable thing that any nonagenarian in her right mind would do....she runs away.

“I can't change what's happened to me in my life, or make what's not occurred take place. But I can't say I like it, or accept it, or believe it's for the best. I don't and never shall, not even if I'm damned for it.” 

― Margaret Laurence, The Stone Angel

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9. Life of Pi, by Yann Martel

This is a wonderful novel, with themes of survival, belief and art. 

Pi Patel is immigrating, with his family, (and half of the family's zoo!) from Pondicherry, India, to Winnipeg, Canada. 

Along the way something horrible happens, and Pi is forced into survival mode, doing things he never thought possible, in a situation he couldn't have imagined in a million years.

“Japanese-owned cargo ship Tsimtsum, flying Panamanian flag, sank July 2nd, 1977, in Pacific, four days out of Manila. Am in lifeboat. Pi Patel my name. Have some food, some water, but Bengal tiger a serious problem. Please advise family in Winnipeg, Canada. Any help very much appreciated. Thank you.” 

― Yann Martel, Life of Pi

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10. The Outsider, by Albert Camus (also sometimes translated as 'The Stranger')

Camus was a French/Algerian journalist, philosopher and author who helped the rise of the philosophy of 'absurdism', which states that there is no 'higher purpose' to life, it just is. Just as I am ignorant of most of the universe, so, most of the universe is ignorant of me. 

The book opens with the words, 

"Mother died today. Or yesterday maybe, I don’t know. I got a telegram from the home: “Mother deceased. Funeral tomorrow. Faithfully yours.” That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe it was yesterday."

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That's my list....of course it could change at any moment, there are so many books I love for so many reasons. 

Hope you all are having the best celebrations, feasts and get-togethers possible this year and everyone makes it through healthy and happy....

.....and, keeping with the theme of favourites, here are two of my all time favourite performers, Barry Gibb and Michael Jackson....I know, who'da thunk it, but never-the-less, here they are singing together for your enjoyment! I hope you enjoy it anyway.

 I once heard someone say that Barry Gibb's voice sounds like ear cancer, so, if you are of that opinion, just don't listen to it. This is, after all, fat, old Barry Gibb..and his voice at this stage had taken on a bit of the oldness, but none of the fatness. None that I can detect anyways. 

Finally, to paraphrase Aldous Huxley, "Be careful on the roads. It's the Christmas season, everyone's liable to be drunk."

Autumn, What's My Line, Bears in the Nutyard and a 20 year old cat

I suppose I should be more disciplined in posting regularly, but for the moment, this haphazard system works well for me.
I think.
 I don't know. I will probably review these findings and discover that it's not working as well as I had hoped, or imagined....
 (are hoping and imagining the same thing?....I guess you can imagine things that you don't hope for, or hope for things you can't imagine.....so, the answer is probably 'no'. No they're not the same thing. You're welcome.)

The thing is that a bunch of stuff keeps happening! I suppose that's what life is though, eh?
A bunch of stuff happens. All in a row. For years. (Hopefully).

At last cooler weather has prevailed here in the valley. The rainy season is upon us, and I am welcoming it with open brolley and bright yellow boots.
 I love a slightly chilly, overcast day. The fall weather in all it's aromatic glory makes me feel as if anything is possible.
Unfortunately the physics of the situation reminds me that no, not everything is possible,
 (like George Carlin said, "Hand me that piano.") but I tend to lean more on the side of the bare bones poetry of the thing, and ignore reality, indulging my senses in heady autumn breezes and that lifted feeling that comes with the rain.
It's as if all the sweat and grime and decay of the recently deceased summer season is being washed away. Things are clean again, and with the cleanliness comes a renewed strength.

A few evenings ago, after a full day of chasing my renewed strength all over town and trying to rope it into finding me a job, I discovered that it had been replaced with a renewed sense of calm.
(Either that or I'm too stupid to recognize a renewed sense of defeat.
 (I think that Taco guy saw right through me. He knew right away that I have no real interest in making tacos. He was trying to ask how long I would actually end up working for him and by the look on his face, I knew that he knew damn well that it wouldn't be long.))
Anyways, that evening I curled up in my papasan chair, cup of tea in hand, and watched a marathon of that old game show, 'What's My Line?'. If you don't recognize that title, you can be forgiven as the show first aired in 1950.
I found it fascinating to see that what must have been social norms back then, today would be considered totally inappropriate, sexist, racist, or all three.
Still it's not without it's charm, this relic from the past.
At times it's downright super funny.
The premise is that there is a 'celebrity' panel of four that try to guess, using only questions that can be answered with yes or no, what the guest does for a living.
 There are times that the whole panel, and the moderator, and sometimes the guest, are smoking. Everyone is enjoying a butt while chortling and guessing.....guessing again... smoking....
They also have a segment where they bring out a 'celebrity' mystery guest. In this case the panelists are blindfolded and are required to guess who the mystery guest is, rather than what they do.

....the quality of the image is such a grainy black and white, that everyone on the show looks like a drawing come to life.....and not really in the sense of traditional cartoons, but more like a fine art portrait come to life. Also, the people of that era seem way more pretentious than the folks that are around now.
 There is a lot of name dropping on the show, and the names they are dropping are not being picked up by anyone in this day and age.
Well, maybe a few people around now will pick up those dropped names, and you can spot those name pickers immediately. They look like fine art portraits, come to life.

A little while ago I heard a woman telling a story about how this farmer she knows had bears coming out of the bushes and ransacking his nut yard.
I guess this guy raises hazelnuts....anyways, when she told this story she said the words "nut yard" many, many times. So many times that it was begining to make some of the listeners uncomfortable.
And when she said those words, she pronounced them quickly, like they were one word, "nutyard"...(maybe it is one word, I don't know)...and all I could think was,
"I've never been as close to a farmer's nutyard as those bears were that day in the bush....close to the nutyard."
Unfortunately, as humourous as the telling of the tale was, (to me at least) it didn't work out so well for the bears in the nutyard. The 'farmer' shot three of them and buried them in the very nutyard they sought out for sustenance.
I'm not absolutely sure about this, but I don't think you can do stuff like that anymore.
Gone are the days when a person can just go off willy-nilly, slaughtering the fauna at their own discretion....unless they have a license. Which to me doesn't seem exactly fair.
What other animal besides people behaves that way?
Bears have never decided amongest themselves, regarding us,
 "There's way too many of those ransacking fucks around....we're gonna have to cull them. Go for the throats of the old ones, and the sick ones."

Oh, I know there are some people that don't even consider that they are animals. They've removed themselves from the list of known animals. And they've done this willingly.
Some people were dissatisfied with being animals....inspite of the fact that they can't change biology.

I think that there would be far less cruelty in the world if folks would embrace their animal selves, and realize that we human beings share the majority of our DNA with everything.
EVERYTHING.
Trees, lizards, dandelions, puppies, elephants, those snails people always step on on the sidewalk....we're related to those things!?
I try never to step on them.
.....wait just a minute here! Does this mean I'm related to my cat?! I'm glad I'm not closely related to her, otherwise I too might be dying of old age at the end of my 20th year.
I mean, not that I have yet to reach the end of my 20th year....rest assured I am quite beyond that.

Twenty years is a good, long life for a cat. And I'm not implying that this is the end for her. I mean, she seems to be having as great a time as a twenty year old cat can have.
I've known this little being for quite some time, and I like her quite a bit. She is a character. She is an individual. Outspoken and not at all shy, she introduces herself to guests and demands that they look her in the eye when they pet her.
At least she did demand that until a few weeks ago.. now she spends most of her time laying low in her basket, emerging to drink (a lot), eat (a little) and get her requisite quota of pets.
She has been a member of our family for a long time and we will miss her terribly when she's gone.
Still, since that day is still at a point in the future....today she will dine on Temptations Chicken treats, her favourite. She has earned a meal of Temptations. She's done her job as my cat well, and for years.

Finally for today, war, terrorism, school shootings, murder at the cenotaph, assaults, beheadings, cruelties and abominations.....my god, the news has me screaming out inside myself that I've had enough!, and then I discovered this song with that same title!
I wonder, if people did make their voices known, the world over, could that make any difference at all? Could we possibly convince governments and religions and sects and terrorists and garden variety murderers that they are doing wrong and we, the population of the planet, have had enough?
I can hope for it, but I can't imagine it.

Be Nice. It's That Simple.