Books: Cleaning Up--How I Gave Up Drinking and Lived

Cleaning Up: How I Gave Up Drinking and Lived by Tania Glyde


My rating: 5 of 5 stars
This book is a memoir of a woman who drank for 23 years before finally giving it up on September 12, 2002. It is insightful, honest, at times opinionated and I really couldn’t put it down--I burned through it in 3 days. It challenges so many of the reasons people give for drinking and offers so many right-on quotes and observations that I just have to share some of them here.

“You have to do something about all the people who are living rent free in your head. A phrase I wish I could claim as my own.” --page 177.

“…there is nothing worse and more dishonest, than continuing a friendship that has run its course.” --page 204. (A-men.)

“your time is yours, and not other peoples. Take alcohol out of the equation and the reality hits you that not everyone you know is good for you.” --page 227. (Amen, Amen, Amen).

I enjoyed this book. The writer makes no bones about the way she feels about the role of alcohol, how it is never given the proper credit for actually being a “gateway drug,” as pot is allegedly supposed to be. As this woman is British, the perspective is somewhat different than we get in the U.S. The drinking, I am told, is much more aggressive over there. Plus, she devotes some space to talking about the state of their National Health Service, which as an American strikes me as odd (my take: I wish I could be complaining about the state of my free health care rather than complaining about something that costs me money and still kind of sucks.) The part where she talks about astrology vs. therapy kind of reminded me of a fallacy of logic (e.g. “this one thing sucks therefore this other thing must be better.”). But she comes by this opinion honestly, and that is the most compelling case for what is so good about this book: honesty. I loved her take on positive thinking: “Frankly, I have never heard more bollocks spoken on just about any other subject.” (page 181). She says this in the context of the recovery movement, which, she feels, kind of makes people “programmed” to never say anything negative about anything.

An enjoyable book for many reasons, this book is up there with Drinking, a Love Story by Caroline Knapp (which she lists at the end). Great stuff.

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Excerpt #2: The Best of Thunder Johnson, novel out this September!

This section sets up my main character and what he does for a living.

Hanson West looked at his watch. A few more hours to go. This Friday shift, by himself, putting tapes in the machines at the right times. He couldn’t wait to get off, to get the hell out of here just for a night. There was an itching in his belly to get on the craps table, to make up for a bad night a week ago.

He looked around at this “Command Center” at Channel 2. He worked a console that had half a dozen slots for video tapes to play. To his right was a small sound-proof booth, about the size of a closet, for voiceovers. To his left was the door to the hall. Directly in front of him, past his console and through the big window was the studio itself, with its three cameras and a small set of risers upon which an audience could sit. Right behind him was the phone.

The Command Center could accommodate 4 other people--during the filming of shows there could be a director (someone to call the shots--literally), someone to operate the character generator (to put words on the screen) and someone to work the phones (because people in this town loved to call the station and swear over the air and it was the screener’s job to prevent this) and West’s job, the master controller (to sit in the big Captain Kirk chair). But during the week, or during the slow times, it was usually just West, all by himself, drinking his coffee and playing the tapes.

West had finished the Awesomebucks 20-miler coffee a while back, and now it had worked its way to his bladder. He checked the time--still another 10 minutes to The Ronald Ronaldson Report. He got up while the tape ran.

“And you know what else? I think that the meter maids give out more tickets to white people, just out of spite for the misery that they endure!”

Down the hall, past the studio, was the lobby, and then the boss’s office, just across from the only bathroom in this one-level facility. Most days West never saw the boss. If he ever did, it was usually not for anything good--this was not an easy business and he was usually stressed out about one thing or another. Sometimes it was a wonder this station was still afloat.

Hanson West eliminated the contents of the 20-miler and washed his hands and then closed the door behind him. He looked at the door to the boss’s office. It was closed, as usual.

He returned to his chair back in the Master Controller room, just as the show was finishing up. He prepared to run the next tape, which would require a simple flick of a switch, done just at the right moment so that the people of Hartsburg, who may or may not care if the next show went on in time, would have no reason to complain. Even though the common wisdom was that no one ever really watched this stuff, one would be surprised at how often people would complain when he didn’t do his job right.

It was time--West flipped the switch to make the change to the next program, and The Ronald Ronaldson Report was over for another week. He sat back in the chair again and watched as the new program came across the monitor. The phone stayed silent: a successful switch.

West sighed. Just another day in the paradise that was Cable Access, Channel 2 in Hartsburg, Massachusetts.

Books: Hot, Flat and Crowded

Hot, Flat, and Crowded: Why We Need a Green Revolution--and How It Can Renew America by Thomas L. Friedman


My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Hot, Flat, and Crowded by Thomas L. Friedman

This book alternately scares the hell out of me and gives me hope for the possibilities in innovation and science that could one day stem the tide of carbon emissions that are hurting our planet and killing my friends the polar bears.

At the risk of giving it too much credit, this is a book that everyone should read. From the title, “hot” refers to global warming, which, Friedman suggests, is really more like “global weirding”, giving rise to droughts in some areas, floods in others, and just a general condition that the planet cannot maintain itself if we do not do something. By “crowded,” he means too many people living like Americans, with our over-consumption and generally wasteful lifestyle (BTW--my 10th grade English teacher tried to get us, as a class, to stop using the term “lifestyle,” as she felt it was somewhat dated and ‘80’s sounding. I think of this anytime I use this word. Any thoughts?). By “flat,” he is referring to the phenomenon of a great number of these people achieving a middle class existence all at the same time, thereby making a great demand on the planet’s resources, creating a need for energy that for the foreseeable future, will continue to be through “dirty” energy sources, like coal. Friedman argues that what we need, as a nation, to lead the world in a systemic change in our energy policy. He argues that we need to make the word “green” go away, only used when someone violates accepted “green” policies, much like the term “civil rights” is now a given, only brought up when violated. He argues that we are a great country with great potential to change the world, yet we lag well behind many of the other countries who have mad e great strides in “Clean” energies, such as solar, wind, etc.

A big strength of this book is Friedman’s ability to use understandable metaphors, to drive his point home. For example, the image that has stuck with me is how he explains C02 emissions: imagine that you are driving your car. For every mile you go, imagine that you are throwing a bag of trash out the window. That is your C02.
When you think of it that way, it does make you want to re-evaluate your habits.

This is an important book that urges change--hard, real change, not just some “205 easy ways to save the Earth” sort of change--to live our lives in what he terms to Energy Climate Era, or ECE. How will we supply the energy needs for a world that is becoming hot, flat, and crowded in such a way that we do not further damage a planet that is in many ways already irreparable? --think of the many animal extinctions and you will know what I mean by “irreparable.”

This is not just an environmental issue. Friedman is not some tree-hugging sissy about it. What he is saying is that whichever nation can take the lead on clean energy for the Energy Climate Era will become the most profitable nation in the world, and help to save the world as well. Isn’t that a win-win?
Read it, read it, read it!



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Excerpt #1: The Best of Thunder Johnson

This is the first in a series of excerpts of my upcoming novel, The Best of Thunder Johnson, which will be out this September.

A few weeks ago…

“Just settle down sir, we’re gonna get you some help.”
The man in the back of the squad car thrashed around, as much as he could under restraint. What the hell’s happening?
“It’ll be okay, sir, just settle down.”
Shaking, rocking back and forth, the man muttered “Lights out, lights out, who do you wanna live with , Mommy or Daddy, c’mon Ronny, Mommy or Daddy…”
The car rolled through the streets of Hartsburg, past Lake Runoff, just across from the Cable Access station.
“What’s his deal?” the driver said to his partner.
“Dunno. That’s for the shrinks at HMHF to figure out. We couldn’t just leave ‘em there in that parking lot.”
“Christ, this town…it’s got all the nuts.”
“Yeah, well…‘to serve and protect,’ right?”
“Jesus…”
The man screamed “Lights out!”
“Shut up!” the officer yelled.
“Fuck it, turn on the radio.”
*
Do you ever actually try to talk to people out there? A lot of people believe some really crazy things. It’s why most things on TV are so heavily scripted, why you never see ugly, fat, or retarded people. But people believe really crazy shit--most don’t have their facts straight, or are operating under some delusion that rules their lives…like somehow someone’s going to come along and save us, Gandhi, Jesus, Obama, somebody. We engage in bizarre superstitions, offer prayers to a God we never see, hope that one day it’ll all make sense.
The reality is we’re a huge collection of fucked up people with fucked up ideas who are just lucky that no one ever listens to us or cares about what we actually have to say.
*
“Sir? Can you hear me?”
Ron found himself on an exam table behind a curtain. He could hear the sounds of people in the emergency room, phones ringing and nurses talking. He could barely remember how he got here. He was just trying to buy some video tape when they got him.
“I have a few questions to ask you, can you answer for me?” The Doctor wore a sweater over a shirt and tie, and spoke in a soft, reassuring voice.

Ronaldson grunted.
“Name?”
“…Ron Ronaldson.”
“Good, Ron. Do you know where you are?”
“…Here. Hospital.”
“That’s right. Do you know what day it is?”
“…Monday.”
“That’s right. And do you know what month it is?”
“…September.”
“All right. Sounds good.” The ER Doctor picked up his clipboard and made some notes.
And finally,
“Ron, can you tell me: How old are you?”
The look in his eyes suddenly turned back to anger.

“I know how old I am!” he spat back at the Doctor. “I know how old I am! Lights out! I know how old I am, how old are you!”
“Ron--”
“How old are you?”
“How old are you!!!”