5 comments about Cheerful Money: Me, My Family, and the Last Days of Wasp Splendor.

1. I'm a couple of chapters into this book I'm amazed by how boring I find it. I went to school back east & understand this culture a little bit from the outside looking in. Friend sure is taking his time peeling back the layers. To continue or not. I'm not sure. I expected it to move along



2. Ok- I will admit it: These are my people. I read hilarious parts out loud to my cousin- and he looked blank. Ah! He was raised in California! My Jewish friends also look blank, or look at me sympathetically. It may well be that this book is only interesting to fellow WASPs- and those non-WASPs struggling to understand their WASPy mates. I guess for me it is vindication that our family was not the only one encumbered by these odd culture traits, rituals, shortcomings and apprehensions. I find myself nodding, smiling,or cringing in empathy. Periodically I have to stop reading to wipe tears of laughter away. I admit that it is like looking at a family album belonging to a cousin- all familiar- just a slightly different perspective. Having escaped that world (you kind of have to), I have no problem owning it- and can view my parents and ancestors - and all Tad Friend's family- with sympathy, humor, and horror- all of it. We're all just human. "The full catastrophe" as Zorba would say. This book says it all- which is probably more than you want.



3. One segment of society which has thankfully been under represented in our memoir-tapping, TV-confessional culture has been the Chosen Frozen, and with good reason: for all that life can thrown at one, if there's boarding school, an ivy, a summer house and the like to help weather whatever blasts come over the hedges, you're better off than 95% of the rest of the world. So why does Friend feel the need to run it out? For 300 pages? Nice that he spent five figures on a therapists couch to help I suppose, so is this the way to recoup his squandered inheritance? This may well have been a cathartic exercise for him, but were he not tapped into the literati-publishing world via The New Yorker and a wife at the Times, would a page of this have seen the light of day? If Louis Auchincloss and Dr Phil went in on a project together, this would be the transcript. I play squash, went to boarding school and our dinner tables were never soul-bearing tear fests either ...so where's my book deal? Hope you're feeling better Tad, but glad I rec'd the book as a loaner.



4. My local librarian asked me why there was a long list of requests for Cheerful Money. "It must be good," she said. When I told her that it really wasn't very good she said, "well, it must have some kind of appeal." And it does...to a limited audience.
   
   First of all, Cheerful Money is indeed not a very good book, but it will find a place in the genre of Wasp chronicles. The structure is meandering. At points the book is truly boring. And the characters never really come to life. I could see these flaws when I spent about 30 minutes in the aisle of my local book store giving it a speed-read and deciding that it was not worth buying. And yet, a few weeks later I was one of those who requested it from the library. I think if you have little or a lot of WASP in you or have lived close to one or many of them you are drawn to reading about this world and its dissolution in the second half of the 20th century. Maybe I needed that assurance that the WASP world had lost its relevance so I would feel safe in abandoning any aspirations that might have lingered from my own Seven Sister/ Ivy League college days.
   
   Admittedly I skipped over many paragraphs and at least twice considering abandoning the book. But I was glad I finished it, even though the whole bit towards the end about the author's psychoanalysis and failed relationships was lame. Mr Friend is a good writer, better than shows in this book. He has a knack for finding just the right metaphor.
   
   You will enjoy the book if you are interested in a glimpse into this bygone world. For a tighter and more interesting narrative of the same subject, George Colt's Big House has more poignancy and a surer social (as well as artistic) compass.



5. Mr. Friend's writing is beautiful and precise, always, and even more so when he writes about his own family. I find the subject matter of Cheerful Money painfully true, and so appreciate Mr. Friend's honesty and clarity. I also sense echoes of Walter Stegner's amazing novel Crossing To Safety, as well as to George Howe Colt's enlightening memoir The Big House.
   Mr. Friend's memoir is not just a chronicle of the decline of WASPdom and its influence in 20th American culture, but also a virtuoso portrait of various aspects of human nature. He quotes his Uncle Paddy as claiming that his lovely and haunting portrait of his mother in the New Yorker was not 'gray' enough, too black and white; but almost every 'character' in this memoir is subtly drawn up so that we neither feel too much dislike or like for any of them. Everyone has their own foibles, even if they are WASP's.

5 comments about Seeds of Terror: How Heroin Is Bankrolling the Taliban and al Qaeda.

1. By the time I finished this potentially very interesting work about an unquestionably important topic, I was downright irritable at the circuitous, repetitive and sometimes impenetrable book about what is almost certainly one of the key national security issues we face: the link between narco-trafficking and the terrorism that its profits finance.
   
   Just from keeping up with the news, I knew this was an important topic and one I wanted to learn more of. Alas, this book didn't help much. Part of the problem is the structure -- Peters seems to make the same point over and over again, leaving me wondering why no editor had taken her material in hand and imposed some kind of order and coherence on it. Every so often, a segment would grab my attention, such as her quest into "HJK", the Afghan drug kingpin she compares to Khun Sa, the warlord of the Golden Triangle in Southeast Asia. But then she quickly relapses into making the same point in different ways, relying more on comments from anonymous Westerners and other security officials than other first-hand observations, and quoting reports by other journalists. Why??? if she has spent the last decade in the region, surely she can bring her own observations and reporting to bear, instead of quoting her peers on what seem like banalities, such as: "What is new is the scale of this toxic mix of jihad and dope," writes journalist David Kaplan." That's the same point she's making in 17 different ways in the book; why quote another observer to make it #18?
   
   Putting together this tendency to "tell" rather than "show" the reader what is happening, her reliance on other journalists' narratives to tell the story, and the circuitous nature of the book, left me with a disappointing book on my hands, and one that often felt as if it were written for a wire service or perhaps and news magazine and then streeettttchhhhed to fill an entire book. I'm sure there was new information in here, but frankly, you'd have to be following the drugs/terrorism connection with more than just average curiosity to detect it as it doesn't stand out. This struck me as an effort to drill down more deeply into one part of the vast interlinked criminal world that Misha Glenny chillingly outlined in McMafia: A Journey Through the Global Criminal Underworld, but it didn't come close to matching Glenny's book in reach or style.
   
   Recommended only to those with a compelling interest in the subject and enough tolerance for ponderous prose to wade their way through this in search of the nuggets it probably does contain. It's certainly a 5-star book, but I can't, in good conscience, award it more than three stars. Even Opium Season: A Year on the Afghan Frontier, which is little more than a memoir by a young member of one of the anti-opium taskforces that have tried combating the cultivation of poppies in Afghanistan ended up providing me with more insight into the broad issue, including the perspective of the Afghans themselves.



2. Gretchen Peters, the Harvard graduate who covers Af-Pak region for ABC News provides an objective analysis of the role of poppy seeds in nourishing terrorism.
   
   If you are a venture capital investor, investing in Afghanistan/Pakistan in poppy seeds is the way to go. Reasons:
   
   Illegal drugs is a big market. 8% of global trade (against 5.3% for motor cars).
   
   Poor governance in Afghanistan facilitates drug lords to "order" farmers to harvest poppy seeds; buy future deliveries under salaam system; bribe those in power to overlook trafficking; pay Taliban war lords to oversee safe transportation; produce heroin in the lawless borderland between Afghanistan and Pakistan; export through Iran/Turkey or Pakistan to hungry markets in Europe and launder the money through Dubai.
   
   The farmers get a pittance (and yet that pittance is 12 times what they would get for normal food crops). But the Taliban warlords net quite a pile; $ 439 million in 2007!
   
   The business model evolved over a period of time.
   
   Cause 1: In its obsession to win the cold war, US overlooked supporting religious zealots. Zbignew Brezezinski asked, "What was more important? A few stirred up Muslims or the liberation of Central Europe and the end of the cold war?".
   
   Cause 2: US conveniently ignored the drug connection of the mujahideen. Robert Peck of State Department testified to Congress in 1986 that US did not have enough evidence to believe the rebels were involved in narcotics trade. In 1989 Ann Wrobleski of State Department defended eloquently that "opium is the only currency the rebels have".
   
   Cause 3: Pakistan army and ISI did not have compunction in using drug money to fund covert operations. Nawaz Sharif, in a 1994 interview to Washington Post confessed that General Aslam Beg, Chief of Army and General Asad Durrani of ISI sought his permission to fund covert foreign operations through large scale drug deals.
   
   Cause 4: Warlords like Gulbuddin Hekmatyar and Jalaluddin Haqqani (both now allied with Taliban) saw huge opportunity in being part of the supply chain but cleaned up their prospectus by providing a religious coat to the business model and allying with Taliban.
   
   Cause 5: Taliban saw the drug revenue as a reliable source of revenue to fund its activities. Selling drugs to non believers was seen as part of the jihad against non Muslims. Though Mullah Omar banned poppy cultivation for one year (that was revoked later) in 2000, it was an ultimate insider trading con. That just pushed up prices ten times. Net margins went up. The only folks to suffer were the farmers.
   
   Cause 6: Post invasion, US pursued stability; but overlooked poppy harvest, heroin production and transport. Again, obsessive pursuit of one priority and compromise with another that could hurt US in the long run. The 1988 warning Edmund McWilliams issued to Milton Brearden of CIA that "we are financing our own assassins" is continuing to be ignored.
   
   If Harvard were to issue a degree in being a Commander in Chief, course 101 would be on "cutting the funding for your enemy" and course 102 would be on "not taking your eye off all your other enemies".
   
   Gretchen Peters has several valuable suggestions:
   
   One, bomb the refineries and chemists. There are just 24 of them. Should not be too much to ask after you have spent $ 2 trillion on a war machine.
   
   Two, bomb the drug convoys. You don't need drones. These convoys start in Afghanistan. Most of them from Helmand province.
   
   Three, exert influence over money launderers. In the end, Gretchen Peters says, the drug lords keep their money in western banking institutions.
   
   Four, go easy on the farmers. They don't love Taliban. They hate Taliban. It is just that they don't have anyone else to love. Install a government that can move into that sweet spot.
   
   If not, remember Gretchen Peter's quote, "Amerians may have the watches. But the Taliban have the time".



3. "Seeds of Terror" identifies a problem in Afghanistan that could have been described in 10 pages and instead is described in 238 pages. Each chapter says the same thing. Afghanistan produces a lot of opium, which helps finance bad guys, including the Taliban and al Qaeda. The writing is one long newscast. This book carries an important message but do yourself a favor. Read the cover and spare yourself the boredom of hearing the same thing over and over again inside.



4. For those interested in the ground truth of what's going on in Afghanistan, Pakistan and throughout Central Asia, this book is a mandatory read. Peters spent years researching the ground truth and lays it all out clearly, concisely and with the requisite background stories so the information is properly framed.
   
   An unbelievably worthwhile read; illuminating, insightful, and quite honestly disturbing.



5. Ms Peters has done great service by bringing the role of drugs in Afghanistan and Pakistan to our attention. The book is well researched and the author has shown great dedication in her work given the risk to journalists in that part of the world. Unfortunately, the book is poorly organized and not very well written. At times it is repetitious. It does not follow a timeline. Much of it could be deleted without losing much of its value. Overall, I think it would have been a much better article in a magazine or newspaper. It you trudge through it however, you will be rewarded with an interesting viewpoint on how to win the war on terror. Given that so much of our tax dollars is being spent in Afghanistan, the American people need to become much more knowledgeable on that region.

5 comments about The Last Resort: A Memoir of Zimbabwe.

1. Received this book as a Xmas gift from someone who knows I enjoy reading about Africa, but didn't immediately pick it up as I've read a number of books about Zimbabwe in the past few years. My mistake!! This is a wonderful, refreshing story about two people reinventing themselves continuously in an effort to remain in the country they call home. I was touched by the honesty and humor of their story, and finished the book with great admiration for their efforts. It is as much a story about a son's growing understanding and appreciation of his parents, as it is about their daily struggles in a country that is constantly being turned upside down. I particularly enjoyed the author's perspective-a candid look at how his parents face the changes that confront them daily, and his fears for their safety (as well as his own!). I found myself thinking about Mr. Roger's parents long after I put the book down...



2. Bribery - yes, corruption - yes, greed - yes, fear - yes, tenacity - yes, brutality - yes, justice - hardly. This book totally depicts all of the above in one small corner of one of the most beautiful countries in Africa. The ugliness and brutality of those in power against so many who had hoped for a better, prosperous and happy future after the bitter war to end colonialism. A vivid picture of how a despot and his government continue to take what was once the bread basket of Africa, into ashes.



3. I can't stop thinking about this book. I recently visited my family in South Africa (I left in 1983), and I was struck -- yet again -- by their amazing sense of humor, despite all of their difficulties. This book reinforced the feeling of awe I have for them. It is the same feeling I now have for all of the people depicted in The Last Resort. Their lives are tragic, yet heroic; difficult beyond comprehension but full of determination and courage. What makes the book so powerful is how Rogers compels us to empathize with everyone, regardless of their race, ethnicity or political affiliation. They are simply human, born into circumstances not of their own making, swept up by events they can't quite control. Their actions, though sometimes unethical or immoral, are driven by an evolutionary will to survive. They are unapologetic, yet their ability to adapt and even change gives one hope in the human race. Ultimately, it is not power or money that allows Rogers' family to endure; rather, it is the small gestures -- of respect and kindness -- that keeps them on their land in their beloved Zimbabwe; their encounters with individuals, long forgotten, whose connections suddenly mean everything. This is a tale that teaches us that lives can be changed by tiny, seemingly inconsequential interactions between ordinary people, and reminds us to strive to be better every day.



4. Most American's think of Zimbabwe, if at all, just long enough to shake their heads. The country has gone from breadbasket of Africa to a complete economic basket case, due entirely to the choices of its leaders. We hear of white farmers being dispossessed and their productive farms run into the ground, urban blacks being cast from their slums to go live...where? All the while with President Mugabe being honored at the Rome food conference and treated like a normal president by neighboring states. It is a place that cries out to be disregarded as too exhausting to think about.
   
   Douglas Rogers' wonderfully titled "The Last Resort" is a cure for that sensibility. It is a funny, moving and eye-opening story about today's surreal Zimbabwe. It tells the story of his parents, trying to hold on to their property that was once a famous backpacker's lodge and bar in the countryside that has now fallen on hard times along with every other part of the economy. But it is not just about them and certainly not just about the burdens of whites holding on amid chaos. It tells the tales of their employees and friends, black and white, as well as of their oppressors as they all try to navigate a Mad Max world. The book gives context to how migration, commerce, foreign intervention, war and modern racial politics has brought the country to this pass. It dispels the cartoon-like impression most American have of Africa and replaces it with a real sense of the people and their place, even if both sometimes seem more like a Monty Python skit than actual people in an actual country. It is a wonderful book and we should hope for a sequel.



5. The Last Resort is a highly personal story about Douglas Rogers' return visits over a few years to Zimbabwe to visit his parents. It is a rich and penetrating portrait of Rogers' homeland and what is happening there under the rule of Robert Mugabe - not only what is happening to the remaining white settlers but to the native black population. Douglas Rogers' parents, Lyn and Ros have run a game farm and backpackers lodge for many years in the eastern part of the country. This is a moving story of their will to survive in their own home against odds that would overwhelm anyone. They are survivers who have learned to adapt to the dramatic changing condition of this calamitious land. From the opening pages describing Roger's plane landing at the airport at Harare when he first returned home one feel a cloud of dread as to what he will find as he thumbs rides to The Drifters, his parents resort. But what is overall the theme of the story is the desire of the human spirit to survive and to outlast the evil that is around them. The book is filled with dramatic happenings to these people but also with great humor. They did not lose their sense of life's joys. There are some very funny scenes of going to Miss Moneypenny who is the money changer, to get bundles of Zimbabwe dollars. The book reads much like a novel as you just don't know how it will end.
   
   I was disappointed that there were no photos in the book until I went to Douglas Rpgers' wedsite [...] and found the photos by Stefan Ruiz. Look at the photos before, during and after you read the book. They are of the characters and the area of the story. They show beautiful noble people. Also it would be great to stay at The Drifters. Even if one is not that intereted in Zimbabwe the book is a wonderful story of survival and the human desire and will to last. I would love to meet Lyn and Ros.

5 comments about Makes Me Wanna Holler: A Young Black Man in America.

1. Item got to me in a timely fashion as was in the condition I expected, maybe even better.



2. I'm a sixty-year old, "constipated white dude" (having been described thusly by Hall of Fame running back Jim Brown in his autobiography.) Having grown up in white-bread, "Wonder Years", Republican Orange County, Ca., I laughed at the "N-word" jokes and stereotypes that circulated amongst my peers. My black encounters numbered zero. Later, after a stint in the Navy and college, I considered myself non-racist, but still felt self-conscious in their presence, and took pains to be ingratiating, which probably means I was a racist somewhere in my being, though I would've been shocked to be accused of same. It took me years to realize racism is nothing more than hatred of self, projected onto others.
   
   I always wondered about the rage of black men, and the black-on-black violence. Thanks to Mr. McCall, I believe I understand now. Disputing some other reviews, I believe he WAS remorseful for his actions, and put that remorse to words as best as he was able, which wasn't much. And that was a key recurring point of the book, that he was being honest about HIS biases, as well as those of the whites,' even as he understood neither. The highest recommendation I can give any book is that it makes me a better person for having read it, and for this I salute Mr. McCall.
   
   I do wonder about the cover photograph, and then realized its perfect. Sure to antagonize some readers, his other option would be to appear in shirt and tie, a part of the system. One is sure to appear militant and off-putting, the other as a "sellout." Just the tightrope he was walking throughout his riveting pages.



3. This book encompasses so many issues I barely know where to start. As other reviewers state the author does blame racism for many of his mistakes. On the other hand the author has actually experienced racism first hand as seen by his elementary school experience with white children.I think many racists of all colors just hate with no reason. This gentlemen experienced racism during very formative years.I can see how some hateful feelings emerged. On the other hand why does he assume so often that he knows what whites are thinking and that it is always negative towards him. For example on page 84 he talks about job hunting as a teen and writes that the,"white kids looked at me with that pompous air-like they knew they were supposed to be there and I wasn't."How did he know that is what they were thinking?Did he speak with them? Give them a chance? He is not a mind reader-so again why was he always assuming whites were thinking terrible things about him without clarifying this negativity by perhaps speaking with them?
   Other parts of the book do not make a lot of sense. He speaks about the flaws of standardized tests, since they are culturally biased against blacks. Yet he does not mention why so many immigrants from countries such as Vietnam-who grew up in third world type cultures often without running water or even toilets can do so well on these supposedly culturally biased tests.
   
   On the other hand he wrote about prison in a way that was raw and revealing and I think timeless. His experiences with gangs, and violence often brought on by macho posturing are just as significant today as back in the 70's.
   
   He mentioned how he never learned black history in school. I went to a multicultural high school in the early 80's and actually learned more about black history in school and on my own than any other group's history.
   
   In conclusion I highly recommend this book, and I finished it in less than one night. I would love to hear Mr.McCall speak, and I'm curious about his feelings concerning the election of a black male as president.



4. I used to see this book for years without purchasing it and suddenly, while on vacation, found it in a used book store and decided to purchase it since it was cheap. As I began to read, I wondered where I was all of this time. This book is honest, upfront and vivid.
   
   I don't think that Mr. McCall is trying to make excuses for his behavior, he explained what he was experiencing at the time he committed his crimes and how much he grew from them. As a single parent to a son and a Black woman, I can identify with many of his feelings. I don't accept his crimes, but I appreciate his growth and he acknowledged his negative choices to create a better person. There were times I cursed him for the crimes he committed, especially towards the women, but there were also times that I rejoiced when he experienced his misfortunes but was also able to simultaneously admit to his failures. No matter how you slice it, life, especially a bad life means nothing if NO ONE learns from it.



5. This is the best book on race relations I've ever read. I purchased this copy to replace the one I gave as a gift. Nathan McCall is a gifted writer speaking from personal experience about a painful and troubling phenomenom...black on black violence.

5 comments about Corn Flakes with John Lennon: And Other Tales from a Rock 'n' Roll Life.

1. I appreciate the efforts of Robert Hilburn and, in some parts, the book came across lucid and interesting. I believe his purpose was to highlight the artists who may have had the biggest cultural impact through their music. No denying Elvis Presley, the Beatles, Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, Public Enemy, Run DMC, Bruce Springsteen and U2 fit such a category at some point in their careers.
   
   But so too have The Who, Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Eminem, The Kinks, KISS, Pink Floyd (pre- and post-Syd Barrett), The Ramones and R.E.M. It was as if their contributions were minimal. Compared to the aforementioned bands, they either don't measure up or Hilburn just chose to ignore them. That disappointed me, for all of them moved the cultural needle. In all respects, only Elvis and the Beatles have arguably sustained unblemished cultural influence.
   
   Over a 30-year writing span, for a major media outlet such as the L.A. Times, I was hoping for more.
   
   Besides including more about other groups, and less about Dylan and Springsteen, I thought Hilburn could have done a better job of taking the reader inside the music industry.
   
   On page 232, Hilburn states that "the sales charts are a constant reminder of how music buyers settle for mediocrity." Agreed. But why? It was a wonderful opportunity to delve into the reasons why: namely marketing, underhanded deals, the fact that record companies used to 'bribe' radio stations across the nation to get songs played, etc. But the sales charts are also an indication of what helped put the greatest artists on the map and kept them there.
   
   I agree that too many great artists are swallowed into the black hole that is obscurity, but I never got the sense Hilburn felt that way.
   
   Too much was made of Dylan and Springsteen. Hilburn mentioned them ad nauseam. There were instances where Hilburn, clearly clouded by Dylan and Springsteen's past reputations, became an apologist for both. (And I happen to appreciate and like Dylan and Springsteen). Just an example of how the book could have been tightened, or how Hilburn could have focused on other groups that mattered.
   
   More important, it led me to query whether he could give a proper critical review of their work. There was a reason why Springsteen's "Tom Joad" was a commercial and artistic flop; Hilburn touted it as an artistic masterpiece. Of all those who bought "Tom Joad," I wonder how many of those copies continue to gather dust?
   
   Then there's Dylan, who hasn't been relevant in years. Yet older critics still hold onto this facade that Dylan's '60s work is just as powerful and even today. I would like to believe that Hilburn influenced Dylan's setlists, as Hilburn subtly suggested, but I'm keen on believing it was more of a coincidence that Dylan injected different songs during different concerts. He's done it his entire career.
   
   I did find his recollections fascinating about Lennon and Presley, and grew to admire the country stars (like Waylon Jennings) he wrote about. It inspired me to check out some of the country acts Hilburn favored. John Prine caught my attention as well, and I doubt I would have ever thought twice about Prine without Hilburn's book.
   
   All in all, though, the book simply struck me as uneven as a memoir, a reflection of cultural icons, or wherever it was supposed to go.



2. Being that my three favorite things in life are books, music, and my daughter, I was extremely excited to read this book. It had two of the very best ingredients in the world for me (if a picture of my daughter had been on the back cover, it would've earned my nomination for the best book of the year.) :)
   
   Robert Hilburn is the pop music critic and editor for the Los Angeles Times, and has been since music REALLY became music. Not only is this man highly respected, but in this wonderful book he offers the reader a chance to see underneath all the innuendos, glamour, false biographies, etc. of some of the superstars we've loved and lost along the way. This man also, after reading this book, is psychic. He just has to be. He knew, sometimes before anyone else out there, who was going to be at the top of the charts. And not only in pop. There are some extraordinary looks into the country music scene, as well as others. I want to go into some of my absolute favorites.
   
   The introduction is by Bono who, yes, at one time I thought was simply a "bullhorn" who wanted to "campaign." But after various songs that I've listened to, and The Joshua Tree, of course, and the indepth look from this book, I know Bono is a man who was on a mission - just, at the beginning, a slightly confused one. Robert Hilburn took me into Janis Joplin's life. She loved Kris Kristofferson. This brash, loud, rock 'n' roller was a quiet young woman. Without the music to set her heart and soul on fire, she was found sitting alone, talking quietly - if at all, with her bottle of alcohol sitting in her lap. Hilburn makes a statement that after meeting Janis, he realized that the "best music doesn't just fill a void in the listener, but it also fills the void in the artist. Joplin's music filled her, but...not enough. The loneliness got her. A posthumous release of her song with Kris, "Me and Bobby McGee" was her only No. 1 single and what the author remembers was the line she sang, "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose." Janis was a true artist, unfortunately one who had nothing to lose, but her life.
   
   I was so thrilled when I found myself with Johnny Cash at the 1968 Folsom Prison Concert. He was an idol of mine, as well as my father's. Johnny didn't have to be the best singer, or the campaigner for the points of the world. Johnny could touch you with the simple fact that he was Johnny Cash. He had things set deep within his mind and heart that made him want to tell his stories. And, boy the stories he told. My daughter listens to Johnny Cash, now. The man never fades, and I hope parents for years will tell their kids about Cash and play them a song so that this magic man never leaves the spotlight.
   
   The author took me into Phil Spector's life, as well. I felt my skin crawl as I read about how this man always seemed to find a bottle of wine, and always seemed to have a gun in his hands, making sure people didn't leave his house until he deemed it appropriate. I was also taken with Michael Jackson when he was just "coming up". Jackie Onassis had asked Michael to let a book be written about him, and Mr. Hilburn got the job. Michael was astounding, but he also broke my heart. This was the consummate child. He wanted nothing more than to stay in childhood - and, apparently, wanted the mighty Prince and his hit "Purple Rain" to go away as fast as it had come. Michael liked the chase...the fans...too bad he didn;t like himself more. I think his concert that he was planning for would've placed him back atop the "King of Pop" mountain for all eternity. But, unforunately, we'll never know. Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan weren't a big surprise. I think my sister, when we were young, had spent her babysitting money to hire a private eye to follow "The Boss" around. She knew everything about Bruce. It was uncanny - and a little frightening all at the same time.
   
   I think, as always, the one who tugged my heartstrings the most was Mr. Lennon. I wasn;t even alive when he was shot, but the words that he wrote have stayed like a white cloud of hope over this country. The feeling and the power that he held inside his soul was amazing. He was one of those people that you knew - and still know - was on this Earth for a very specific reason. I don't think it was just to make good music. The man was here to unite an entire country with his words, and he's still doing it today. He had some "falls" just like everyone else in the music world. But he and Yoko did love each other deeply. They struggled to make sense of the outside world, but the love they had for each other and the support network they gave to each other made them able to stand up and shout from the rooftops - and MAKE the country understand what we needed to back then. During an age of war, we still had our innocence in a way. Not like it is today. Today the music is angry. We're angry. I've yet to hear someone my child can follow...someone they can garner hope from. I hope that the next Lennon is out there just waiting in the wings to appear, or we may just become the Roman Empire, and take a really big fall.
   
   And, of course, Elvis. What can I say? It never mattered to me what he'd become. It doesn't matter to my mother what he became, or how he ended. He was, is, and will remain the King of it all. When you listen to Elvis when he began, he not only was just about the most handsome thing on two legs, he was the young man from Memphis who made you want to dance, live, and celebrate life. I agree with the author, his "gospel" moments were the best things he ever did. I wish he'd done more with that. But no matter the drugs, weight gain, etc., the man could've ridden a horse naked in the middle of Bourbon Street...and he would still be Elvis. He accomplished the one thing that alot of superstars try to do but simply can't. Elvis became a legitimate icon. Plus, I've seen Graceland, too, guys. And, don't forget. Elvis didn't become famous because he could decorate or dress well. Leave that to Tim Gunn and others out there. Elvis was a God, and he still is.
   
   There are "interludes" that the author has added that will show you quotes, snippets from interviews, and concerts with the music royalty past and present that you will really enjoy. This is an indepth look at lives we always wanted to know about with moments of sheer pain, joy, frustration, and havoc, but, above all, love. Mr. Hilburn loves his job. He's not only good at it, but I can see that the faith and concern for the people he knew - the artists that "wowed" him, came from his soul. He was like their protector. Take my advice, guys and gals: Read this book; listen to the stories; marvel at the real talent that has shaped us as a country. Turn off American Idol, and meet the real heroes that have made our lives worth living. I'd love to have corn flakes and cream with Mr. Hilburn. That's officially a new entry on my wish list.
   
   Amy Lignor, [...].



3. This book is written well and easy and great to read. It tells very personal stories of well known rock stars that are great to hear. I truly like this book and I also gave it to a rocker who also teaches voice and guitar. He really liked it and appreciated it too.



4. Back in the dawn of time, Modern Era, popular music wasn't even as interesting as it is now in this synthesized, American Idol age. Then along came musicians who knew rhythm and blues, who knew how important it was to be young, who knew there is nothing like a backbeat to get people to listen. Robert Hilburn was there when things really began to take off -- getting rebuffed by Colonel Parker in his attempts to meet Elvis, following Bob Dylan through his ups and downs over the decades, talking his editors into letting him go up to Folsom Prison to see a country singer named Johnny Cash perform.
   
   Stories of those times, up to the death of Michael Jackson, are included in this memoir by the longtime Los Angeles Times music critic. Whether it's early recognition of Elton John and being lauded as a starmaker, recognizing the talent of John Prine and watching the rest of the world ignore his albums or being an early advocate of Jack Whyte's talent, for decades Hilburn has been in search of the next big thing that will keep rock 'n roll alive.
   
   He's known them all and been close to many. The title comes from a time he was with Lennon on tour who was delighted to be eating corn flakes with cream on them. That was the height of luxury to the poor lad from Liverpool, even after the Beatles and the world's continued attention through his house husband days. Kurt Cobain used Hilburn to get a favorable report how he loved his daughter published while Social Services was investigating whether to take Frances Bean away from him and Courtney Love. Michael Jackson chose him to work on a book project that Jackie Onassis was editing, but was more interested in watching cartoons. Dylan finally opens up after years of taciturn behavior when he's playing for small audiences at small colleges. But his revelations about songwriting when Hilburn proposes a series about the subject are indeed revealing.
   
   Hilburn's astute interview skills bring out such observations as Bono's that rock music has something no other kind does -- it is a combination of rhythm, harmony and top-line melody to appeal to the body, the spirit and the mind. Hilburn concludes that the artists he most admires have something in common. They have idealism and commitment. They believe ideas and music matter.
   
   The reader can reach the same conclusion while tracing the careers of Cash, Dylan, Lennon, Springsteen, U2 and Jack White through the years Hilburn has known them, talked to them, listened to their music, questioned them and cared about them. Hilburn provides ample proof of how idealism expressed through music has inspired people. He is more reticent about his own life, with a few tidbits thrown in to provide some background to a particular idea or anecdote. But that's because like any good journalist, Hilburn knows it's the story that matters, not the reporter.
   
   Hilburn also knows to not stretch the story beyond its scope. He admits not knowing what's going to happen to rock in these days of corporate plastic singers with synthesized voices and celebrity celebrated over talent. But he also believes that genuine music will continue to move people.
   
   Rock on, Bob.



5. This is a fun read if you love music. Kept me interested the whole way through.

No comments about Hitch-22: A Memoir.

1 comments about My Times in Black and White: Race and Power at the New York Times.

1. I was deeply absorbed by this book. It is a revealing portrait of a talented and troubled man, a newspaper journalist who succeeded, whose ambition ate at him, and who retained a touching humanity perhaps half of his time at the top. He ultimately fell victim, both to unlucky timing and to the blindness that can come with ambition.
   
   My views are subjective. I knew Gerald Boyd. I am one of many hundreds of journalists who worked with him and, in my case, had him as a boss when he was the editor of Metro section of the New York Times, where I was a reporter. I thought he was an uneven leader. He could be insightful, intimidating, charming, instructive, rudely dismissive, and also a bestower of tough love. His positive attributes rained on me when I was in favor with more senior editors, and his negatives came when I stumbled. I was not one of his favorite reporters, but I had my moments. I was in the middling crowd, those who needed better guidance from him. And yet the limited guidance he did give, when he spoke honestly and even tenderly to me, was among the most effective I ever got.
   
   His personal story is remarkable. It is one thing to hear vaguely, as we all did on the Metro desk, that he was raised poor in East St. Louis. It is quite another to read about what it was like to go to his mother's funeral at age 3, to go hungry, to use his smarts and charm, leavened by his innate caution and fear, to see chances and make the most of them.
   
   Race is a steadily undulating theme in this book. Boyd describes his growing consciousness, as a child, of black and white worlds of St. Louis. His militant episodes at college, when he changed his name to "Uganda X" are a comic backdrop for his constructive activism there. His entry to the NYT and the racism he endured there is arresting. Editors look at his clips and ask, "Did you really write these yourself?" When he prepares for a new assignment, editors ask: "Do you think you can handle this?"
   
   Boyd was not a great writer. This book is direct, almost workmanlike in places. It doesn't matter. It's a strong story. How he made it through school, to a newspaper, through college, to covering Washington, to succeeding in the NYT newsroom - it's a compelling tale. The holes and shortcomings are revealing. He admits having difficulty trusting anyone, but wonders why he has few friends. He torches wife #2 for dragging him to couples therapy, but later acknowledges how essential therapy was for his maturity and judgment.
   
   The real juice, for those of us who care about the Times, comes in the section of the book covering his rise to the top during the Howell Raines era. For all Boyd's talent and smarts, for all his ability to navigate politically choppy waters, for all his relentless determination to succeed, he is at last hobbled by his ambition and defensiveness. When Raines names Boyd to be managing editor, effectively number two in the newsroom, it seems a crowning achievement. But it is virtually an impossible job. Raines emerges as a megalomaniac, and Boyd can only go along as Raines's psychotic schemes inevitably bleed the paper's correspondents and desk editors, undercutting their integrity and morale. It's painful to read Boyd's descriptions of trying, and failing, to provide any balance to Raines's autocratic mismanagement. When the Jason Blair incident unfolds, it opens up the cauldron of resentment among the NYT staff, and Boyd reveals a sorry lack of understanding of why the revolution came. Boyd professes to believe in the Raines mission to heighten the paper's "metabolism", but it's clear that Boyd's own advancement was so identified with it that he had no useful perspective on its glaring failures. Even though he himself chronicles Raines's shortfalls as an editor and leader, he is surprised that his reporters and editors are all so angry. Boyd becomes collateral damage, and doesn't get why no one speaks up to defend him.
   
   Like many victims, Boyd cannot see the reality and instead identifies villains responsible for conspiring against him, Joe Lelyveld, Bill Keller, Jon Landman. His accusations against them ring hollow. It is deeply sad, after his telling and sensitive descriptions of the racism he endured throughout his life, when he lapses into a simplistic citing of racism as the cause of his fall. It is even more sad, after his devastating loss of his job and his sense of identity, when he finds partial solace in his wife and their young son, only to be diagnosed with lung cancer and to quickly succumb to it.
   
   His wife, Robin Stone, says that she edited two unfinished manuscripts together, after Boyd died. I feel grateful to her, for not letting them sit unfinished, and for doing such a good job at editing, making them read as one coherent whole. Stone's afterward, where she describes some of her grief, is very moving. After I put the book down I tried to imagine what it might be like for Boyd's young son to read it once he has grown up. And I also wondered about all those others who worked with Boyd and who, like me, enjoyed his tenderness, endured his limitations, and admired his life.

5 comments about Fear and Loathing in America : The Brutal Odyssey of an Outlaw Journalist.

1. Amazing collection of letters written by one of the most brilliant and strange men during even stranger and loathsome times. A must have if you are a Thompson freak.



2. This combination of letters, memoirs and articles from Hunters personal life is in my opinion the better gonzo letter book. Hunter portrays the world around him through Kaleidoscope eyes that see something you cant, his rational is dry and logical with a spark here and there at first, but later every so often, until you are blasted by light. Hunters insults can be remembered as trophies and his shattering mad prose as art.



3. Short stories. Motivated to stay up all night, blow something up or just ponder.



4. For fans of the good Dr., This rates right up there with his other top sellers.His slant on the American Dream is certinally unique.



5. The second installment in HST's selected letters, Fear & Loathing in America has proved to be a fascinating read. Beginning in the 1950's, HST keep carbon copies of all his letters for filing purposes in the belief that one day he would be a famous writer and his correspondence would be published. Like so many other Thompson predictions, this one proved true. The range and scope of the letters contained in this volume is simply amazing. HST had contacts and correspondence across almost every section of American society from Jimmy Carter, Pat Buchan, Gorge McGovern, and Walter Mondale at one end of the spectrum to Ken Kesey, Tom Wolfe, Jann Wenner, and Oscar Acosta at the other end.
   
   The time period covered by these letters have proven to be a crucial period in modern history and nobody should be without a view from HST's side of things. From the 68' Democratic National Convention to the 75' American withdrawal from Vietnam, the Mint 400 in Vegas to his own personal bid to run for Sheriff of Pitkin County (Aspen) on the Mescaline ticket, HST was there and more often than not part of the action. In this regards his letters read like a quasi-autobiography, tracing the twists and turns of his life throughout this turbulent period of American history. For the creator of Gonzo Journalism, this was his defining period.
   
   It is certainly preferable to start with the first volume HST's published letter, if for nothing else it provides a better context for this volume. I have to confess that I enjoyed vol. 2 more than the first, so I guess it really depends on what you are after. I found myself laughing out loud at numerous occasions while at other times rather stunned at the insight and predictive nature of some of the correspondence, specifically the politically orientated ones. Of course there are other times when HST degenerates into pure gibberish, but all the parts add up to give a composite picture of that unique and individual whole we have come to know as Hunter. So read this book when you get the chance or anything else by HST for that matter. For me he is the best US writer of the last 50 years and I do not say that lightly.

5 comments about Kingdom of Fear: Loathsome Secrets of a Star-Crossed Child in the Final Days of the American Century.

1. The is the best writing I have ever read from Thompson. This book reflects the very meaning of Gonzo. A must have for every Thompson freak.



2. My grandson is getting into reading and this is just the mind expanding material he needs to become a thinker.



3. Make no mistake the late, lamented Hunter Thompson was always something of a muse for me going way back to the early 1970's when I first read his seminal work on outlaw bikers, The Hell's Angels. Since then I have devoured, and re-devoured virtually everything that he has written. I have reviewed many of those efforts elsewhere in this space. As I noted recently in reviewing his 2004 work Hey, Rube, a screed on the misadventures of a gambling freak (himself), not all his efforts have been equally compelling. That was the case in my panning of Hey, Rube but here we are back on much more solid `gonzo' style from the old days. Maybe it is because this work is in the form of a memoir and thus intentionally places the good Doc's actions in the center of the writing that puts this effort in the mold of his better compilations like the Great Shark Hunt and Songs of the Doomed.
   
   Thompson uses his patented stream of consciousness trope to create amusing stories starting from the then present (early 2000's) and his then current doings and splices them together, in some segments randomly, to events as far back as his childhood in Louisville, Kentucky. Along the way we find him at age nine in trouble with the FBI, and none the worst for the confrontation. Later, it is down and dirty in Rio with the crazies. Throughout, we find him incessantly testing his beloved guns and various `hot' motorcycles at various and sundry appropriate and inappropriate times.
   
   Additionally, we have some compelling and insightful stories as this radical journalist tours the news breaking global spots, taking trips to places like Vietnam just before the fall, Cuba, Grenada just after the invasion and elsewhere wherever the journalistic action might be and a story, in the Thompson style, might develop. Needless to say there is plenty of ink about sex, drugs and rock and rock including his deeply affecting and traumatic tangle with the law in Aspen the early 1990's. That, my friends, was a close call.
   
   And throughout, as usual, there are pithy political comments about the various idiots-in-chiefs, their henchman and hangers-on that he spent his life hammering. Maybe not hammering your way, definitely not my way, but his way. His fateful run for Sheriff of Aspen on the Freak Power ticket in 1970 probably accurately set the tone as a lifelong description of his politics. For those who have read other works by Thompson some of the signature language may be old hat as he meanders along in this volume. For others it is a chance to learn the lingo. Damn, especially this election year, I miss him. Read on.



4. Mr Thompsons autobiography is somewhat lacking compared to his other works. It seems, that he in his later years didn't have that much new to say, and this volume shows it very clearly. It deals with the legend of HST, not the man Hunter Stockton Thompson, and only plays the same tune that we've been hearing since F&L in Las Vegas, only in a strongly diluded form.
   
   A great drawback is that he recycles a lot of stuff from his earlier work, which if you're a fan/reader of his you can't help but feel a bit cheated about. The book isn't that long as it is, but when half the material already has been printed before, and therefore probably, for fans at least, is on your shelf already, it gives the feeling of the good Mr Thompson not really making an effort writing this volume.
   
   It's not all bad though. There are highlights in the book. His description of his childhood is enjoyable and very biographical. The last chapter is also very enjoyable, although not that good as biographical material, it does for a good reading.
   
   It starts out legitimate enough, but quickly turns to his rambling and at times incoherent style of writing. Worth reading if you're a completist. I would recommend the compilations of his letters "The Proud Highway" and "F&L in America" as biography instead. They are much better.



5. This book (2003) and "Hey Rube" (2004) appear to be the last of HST's books. While "Hey Rube" contains lengthy discussions of gambling on professional football and basketball (including "March Madness"), this book is more far-ranging, containing everything from Thompson's reminiscences of his youth to his (highly negative) thoughts on George W. Bush. There's even a chapter from "Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail 1972," one of the finest political books ever written.
   
   The quality of the writing on the recent pieces is not quite up to that of his best from the past, but is still infinitely better than the mindless slop produced by other contemporary "writers." The man was an artist.
   
   As always, one of the disturbing things about Thompson is his ability to assess politics correctly in real time. Reading back, you think "Why didn't people take this man seriously at the time?"
   
   "Indeed," as Doc would say.

5 comments about Pill Head: The Secret Life of a Painkiller Addict.

1. Joshua Lyon fell in love with the euphoria produced by narcotics...but this book is much more...
   
   Like me, Joshua was no stranger to experimenting with various drugs in his younger years. He drank and tried just about anything thrown his way. Also like me, the narcotics seemed to be just the right fit. They're safe right? Doctors prescribe them so the must be. It's a false assumption made by many abusers. He discusses how prescription drugs offer this false sense of security and safety and he even presents a very nice explanation of the pharmacology of these drugs that impressed even this pharmacist- obviously he'd done his homework. Also he demonstrates how easy these drugs are to obtain.
   
   Joshua takes us on his own journey through experimentation, addiction, and withdrawl- and visits the lives of some of some other folks at various stages of their use and abuse. Amazing how many times I found myself nodding my head, relating to the things he was saying and feeling.
   
   The book kept my attention, entertained and educated me. After reading, I felt like I knew him personally- a true sign of a good memoir.



2. If you have known an addict or been in this situation, you will relate to this book. It is very informative and the author is honest about his addiction. I do not need to add more, as I would be parroting the reviews before me.
   
   I had a hard time putting this book down. Joshua is an excellent writer and brings you into his world.



3. PILL HEAD: THE SECRET LIFE OF A PAINKILLER ADDICT is a powerful story of substance abuse in an era where painkillers were freely available without a doctor. Their easy accessibility led to their spread around the country, and PILL HEAD is the author's account of the epidemic and a memoir of his struggles to recover from his addiction. Any lending library will find it a revealing memoir.



4. This is a good book on addiction. I enjoyed the unique premise of getting hooked after writing an article on the availability of pharmaceuticals on the internet. Sure, I'll throw the pills away! Anyone unfamiliar with the behavior of an addict and the ease of getting prescriptions online will be enlightened by this book.



5. After reading all these reviews I bought Pill Head straight away. I guess it is true there is no accounting for taste. A recovering addict myself, I read lots of books about addiction. This one reads like a series of routine cheap magazine pieces strung together. Much of the time the process is glamorized, except when the addict hits bottom. There is nearly no introspection, no motivation, no attempt to discover why all these addicts are taking these drugs. It is simply: she did this, and took that, then did this, etc. etc . A big disappointment.