REVIEWING THE SITUATION

In Denmark, in the really olden days, if you wanted to read a good book, you’d find words and pictures engraved on a thin layer of bark from a newly naked birch tree. Thus, “book” comes from the Danish word, “bog,” which means birch. In 1450, Johann Gutenberg invented the printing press.  Granted, the whole venture began quite nobly with the printing of the Gutenberg Bible, but now, in the whiz-bang era of computers, the torrential output of undamned writers knows no bounds. Every year, 100,000 new books are published in the United States. Now that we are deluged with reading material, how do we choose which books to read?

Surveyors of succinct summation to the rescue. Your friendly newspaper/magazine book reviewer—-that preparer of predictive previews for public perusal—is ready to pontificate. Since some reviews are more entertaining than the books themselves, browsing your newspaper book-review page can be time well spent, especially for people who want to appear well read without actually being so. Spending 10 minutes reading a review is certainly less stressful than flailing through a thousand-page, heavily researched book that took the author eight years to write.

But, every book that’s out there can’t be reviewed—especially those that are self-published. Not to worry. An author can find people listed on his computer who, for the right price, will be willing to write a favorable review.

However, getting back to newspaper reviews. Remember that praise is boring and it boosts newspaper/magazine circulation if a well-known reviewer is willing to say something loathsome. Even famous writers don’t escape the literary bounty hunter who’s gunning for a reputation and aching for another notch on his hard drive. In 1933, Max Eastman raised both hackles and circulation of the New Republic when he wrote of Ernest Hemingway: “It is of course a commonplace that Hemingway lacks the serene confidence that he is a full-sized man.” Ouch! Remember, that newspapers want to sell newspapers, not books. So it’s probably wise to take the picks and pans with a grain of salt. Publishers also buy ads promoting the books they think will sell. Usually that does not include a work of poetry. A poet will probably have to settle for a Pulitzer Prize.

In 1977 a publisher promoted  THE NOTHING BOOK. Americans bought 300,000 copies of a book that had 192 blank pages. It was a reviewers delight. Paragraphs could be written about a book that had no words.  Perhaps, for aspiring writers, it might be prudent to skip the agony of writing real books and focus on: BOOKS THAT NEVER WERE.  Here’s a recommended list:

—“Possessing The Secret of Scruples: Equality of Women in College Sports.”
—“Oil Spills: Life’s Little Slippery Instruction Book.”
—“Our Shrinking Airlines: Oh, The Places You Won’t Go.” and
—“He Left Me For An Older Woman: The Best In Science Fiction”

And, here’s a recommended list of book reviews that might help sell papers:

—“Webster’s New Globe Dictionary.”  This book lacks plot, has few characters, sends mixed messages and is much too wordy.
—“Poseidon’s Pissed Off” The author recommends 50 environmentally awakening trips along our polluted waterways. Watch the fish throw each other back at the Richard Russell Dam on the Savannah River.  More breathtaking than the author’s first book, “Sunken California: Hiking Along The San Andrea’s Fault.”
—“The Thinning Book.”  Written on rice paper, the author claims that if you eat three pages a day, you can recycle and lose weight at the same time. ‘’Not bad when coated with peanut butter.”
—-“The Best of The Weather: 2017 Edition.” A treasured collection of weather reports from Maine to California. Audio version available for insomniacs.
—-“The Really Nothing Book.” An inspired literary work with no pages and no cover. For $29.95, the publisher will send a framed receipt to prove ownership. Had anyone been able to put their hands on this book, they would have read a masterpiece.

Esther Blumenfeld

UNINVITED PESTS

Little ground squirrels have suddenly taken a great liking to my front yard. They are very cute until holes start appearing in the turf—mine!—-not theirs! So, not being an animal killer, I have tried various recommended methods to rid myself of my unwanted visitors.

First, I tried mothballs.That worked until the tiny critters learned how to kick them out of their holes.  I don’t know how many  ground squirrels it takes to make a team, but if my bushes were goal posts, I know that several touchdowns were in the making, and I can just see the little pests waving their tails and cheering their team to victory. Now, my yard was filled with tiny, white, smelly lumps that looked like snowballs. I knew it wasn’t snow, because we don’t get snow in Tucson in the summer, and it didn’t melt.

Okay! A box of mothballs cost $6.00. I had purchased two of them. No big deal. Next, I tried coyote urine, and No! I didn’t hike into the mountains, holding a bottle, looking for incontinent coyotes. Coyote urine can be purchased in liquid form (Yuck!) or granules. So, I purchased a bottle of coyote urine granules, and scattered them into and around the wee ground squirrel habitat. That worked for a week. However, the instructions said that I needed to repeat the treatment several times to get good results. At $20.00 a pop, I wasn’t going to repeat this treatment after figuring out how many ground squirrels I could purchase for $20.00.

Oh, Yes, coyote urine is also a repellent against deer.  I am happy to report that no deer are digging holes into my yard.

So, now I have called upon my common sense and said said to myself, “If I were a ground squirrel, sitting in a hole, what would discourage my digging habit?” And, my solution is HOT SAUCE! I purchased the biggest, baddest, hottest bottle of Red Mexican Hot Sauce I could find in the grocery store for $3.00. When I opened the bottle, I put some of the sauce on my finger, and then my lower lip, and hightailed my way to the refrigerator to get a cube of ice.

The little squirrel pits are now filled with hot sauce, and my yard looks as if someone had committed a very pungent murder. This morning I found a pretty big…”Let’s get the Hell out of here exit hole,” and I haven’t seen any more holes since. Hopefully, the ground squirrels will find my neighbor’s yard more hospitable.

I just hope that tomorrow I won’t find little pests sitting in my yard, eating tacos and singing, “Vaya Con Dios My Darling,” and shouting “HOLA!” at passing cars.

Esther Blumenfeld

GUERRILLA HUMOR AND VERBAL DEFENSE

For some reason, that I cannot comprehend, President Trump thinks it’s okay to use his bully pulpit to publicly insult anyone who gets in his way. However, it is well to note that self-deprecating humor is not part of his repertoire.

So, what’s a sitting duck to do in defense of an all-out verbal or active thumbs Presidential assault? Some of Trump’s minions have chosen to grin and bear it, while he skewers, lambasts and rips them apart. That just isn’t finger licking good!

However, he and others like him, would be well warned to avoid professional comedians whose humorous tactics can sabotage any attacks with their razor sharp wit and bevel-edged jokes, that they can deliver with machine gun precision.

Humor is the weapon of the underdog, and success depends on striking hostile forces hit-and-run style and getting away with it fast—-no matter with whom you are dealing. Successful comedians have thrown barbs such as:

“One hundred years ago, Congress gave Presidents more respect.  Of course, look what happened to them. Today, they are all dead.”

“I know that you reporters are looking forward to hearing the dope from the top. Well, I am proud to introduce——“

“This person standing next to me has no equals—Superiors, Yes!”

“For years, this powerful man has rewarded me with money and promotions. And, to think that I owe it all to the morning I saw him coming out of the Pine-tar Motel on Maiden Lane.”

 To defend oneself men and women of irony need quips and chains, cutting remarks and perfect timing with infrared sarcasm sensors.  However, unless you are a professional, it is well advised to use this tactic sparingly. Sad to say, sometimes it is simply necessary unless you are a total wimp. But beware. Because, it’s easy, even for professional comics, to lose their grip after rappelling down the precipice of good taste.

One time, I was Mistress of Ceremony at a large gathering. I gave the speaker a kind but humorous introduction. He gave his speech and then offered to answer some questions.  One woman decided that it was her turn to give a speech instead.  I interrupted her by saying, “There has to be a question in there somewhere.” It worked.

So here are some rules for Guerrilla Humor:

A good offensive joke is the best defense.
When someone knock-knocks, don’t answer.
Blast your target at close range with high caliber come-backs.
Ad-libs are funnier when practiced first.
Melt down and recycle old, worn-out but well tested jokes.

And, when the  bully, who can dish it out, but can’t take it, protests, you might want to suggest to him, “Sir, when your IQ reaches 90—-Sell!”
Remember:  “Shoes pinch, death hurts, humor kills!”

Esther Blumenfeld (Based on “How to Survive a Roast,” Blumenfeld and Alpern, Coffee Break Column, BUSINESS ATLANTA MAGAZINE, May 9, 1989)

LESS IS MORE THAN MOST

So, it’s time for me to downsize—a nice expression for “throw stuff away.” I have found that some “stuff” is easy to toss. Worrying that the tax auditors might come after me one day, I had kept lots of unnecessary paperwork in my garage dating back to 1998. Consequently, my paper shredder and I had lots of fun destroying enough paper to fill, not only my recycling can, but also the receptacles of several of my more amenable neighbors.

Taking a temporary break from paper demolition, I turned my attention to my photo albums, where I have been collecting pictures since 1958. I discovered that there’s enough blackmail material in some of those albums to set me up for the rest of my twilight years. However, I’m not sure that some of my friends with memory problems will remember their first, second and third wives.

I was once on a cruise where a lecturer said, “I’m not able to throw any of my old photos away.” Then she came down from the stage, handed a photo to everyone in the audience, and said, “So you do it!” “Here’s a picture of the Eiffel Tower. Here’s one of my dog.” and, “Here’s one of my second husband who won the dog in our divorce settlement.”

Throwing out pictures wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be.  I had no idea how many photos I had taken of churches, old houses, ocean waves, and people I didn’t know. However, I know that I just can’t throw away pictures of friends or their children and grandchildren. That will be difficult, but taking a page out of that lecturer’s playbook, some of you may soon receive some photos taken long, long ago. You throw them away!

It’s amazing how much “stuff” we accumulate. Some of my collectables are comforting and memorable. I will keep those, but why in the world did I buy a movable frog. His eyes followed me all the way to the Goodwill bag.

I am, however, going to keep my movable, wooden snake. I purchased it at an exhibit of Chinese art in a Museum shop many years ago. It is sitting on a fake rock in my living room. Watching the pest control guy scream and levitate three feet off the floor was worth the price of the snake. It is definitely a keeper!

Haven’t tackled the kitchen or closets yet. That’s what’s “waiting with baited breath” is all about. I will let you in on how that goes later. Do I really need a rolling pin?

Esther Blumenfeld

PERIOD ROOMS NOT QUITE AS BIG AS COMMAS

“One-of-a-kind, custom designed retreat for tall family. Ten-foot regulation ceilings, light switches in place for dramatic vaulting, MBA basketball embedded in living room fireplace, multilevel commodes, over-sized Jacuzzi, that can be converted into a garage. Sacrifice for quick sale by formerly famous retired athlete. For information, call Zelda Zigzaggle, the Million Dollar Club matchmaker of the really, really customized home”

Some realtors specialize in homes so customized that a buyer has to be blinded by love for that particular house. They build reputations with whiz-bang ideas, and imaginative listings, that magnetically draw buyers to abnormal abodes. Their job is to convince a buyer that he really wants to be somebody else—the kind of person that fits into the house they want to unload.

The really customized home is not an easy sell, but all a realtor needs is one buyer. For instance, Zelda proudly brags about the Andy Gustafson farmstead, now the Minnesota headquarter of the National Organization of Women.  “In 1888, Andy’s big boned daughter, Olga, gathered, lifted and cut the foundation’s boulders for the 22-room house all by herself, after pulling the family plow in the wheat field all morning. NOW liked the fact that she worked so hard to help her family, but it was the motto hammered above the front door that sold them: “Once you’ve done the groundwork, watch your buttress!”

Several Zigzaggle houses have a historical connection. The Toll House, a simple frame saltbox in Indiana, originally served as a way station on the pioneer trail. Zelda said, “When the expressway came through the house in 1985, I convinced the new owners they could pay off their mortgage in six months. Collecting fees from the passing traffic, in their upholstered toll booth, wasn’t an inconvenience but a frontier tradition.

A good realtor is always hustling for the next big sale, so Zelda sent this note to President Trump. “Mr. President, it’s never too early to scout out a retirement home. I have just the place for you. With your esteemed position and your history, you will feel right at home in my client’s revolving house on a pedestal. And in keeping with your domestic policy, the house turns 180 degrees every 24 hours. Well, I know you don’t want to be set adrift too soon, Mr. President, but remember that ‘Time and tide wait for no man.”’

Zelda sold the Pendulous Mansion to a family, who decided to hang in there while their daughter moved in with them yet again until she found herself once more. She also said, “Of course I also handle homes for people with inordinately contemporary taste. Face it, most shoppers just can’t drive by a house coated with iridescent paint that glows in the dark. No fumbling around for keys at night with this one.”

Two critical elements of real estate sales are: bagging the seller and razzle-dazzling the buyer. Also, a realtor should keep quiet when buyers and sellers accidentally meet, unless the seller puts a hammerlock on the buyer. Then the agent should say, “I hate to break this up, but we need to get to the next house before dark because the owner grows hair in funny places when the moon comes up.”

And what about that custom home for sale by the formerly retired athlete? It turned out that a troupe of Bavarian tumblers was interested in the “tall family house.”  However, before making an offer, they needed to know how many trampolines could fit into that Jacuzzi.

Esther Blumenfeld (Based on “Southern By Choice ” by Blumenfeld and Alpern, Column in ACCENT ON HOMES AND LIVING MAGAZINE, 1992 c. Blumenfeld)