David G. Cookson's Blog, page 34

The Baseball Codes

The Baseball Codes: Beanballs, Sign Stealing, and Bench-Clearing Brawls: The Unwritten Rules of America's Pastime by Jason Turbow

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


America’s pastime has an extensive set of written rules, some of which I’ve only managed to figure out after watching for over thirty years (infield fly rule? Obstruction? Anyone?) And then there are a series of unwritten rules that govern the behavior of the players and are policed internally, known as the Baseball Code. The elite athletes who play this game may or may not respect this Code, but it exists, and many who ignore it do so at their own peril.

There are unwritten rules about when to throw at someone, about not running up the score in a blowout, about the mandatory requirement to join in a fight on the field (even if that means running 500 feet from the bullpen and arriving way too late for the fight.) There are also rules about cheating (players expect it and don’t care: just don’t get caught.)

As a big baseball fan, parts of this book had me laughing out loud, like the part where Cleveland reliever Dave LaRoche, one of the many pitchers running in from the bullpen to join the 3rd fight of the game proposes “why don’t we, one time, save some energy and start a fight here, and make them come running all the way out to us?” (page 233).

The book is divided into 4 sections covering the code as it pertains to actions on the field, retaliation, cheating, and how to treat teammates. It’s great fun, an easy read at 260 pages, and in the waning days of this regular season leading to the postseason, should help to salve the wounds of my team not being in it.

@BaseballCodes @MichaelDuca





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Burning Down George Orwell's House: Review

Burning Down George Orwell's House by Andrew Ervin

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


This book is a fish out of water comedy with an existential twist, kind of like Dances with Wolves meets Northern Exposure (I used to like that show when I was new in town and could relate to Joel’s situation.)

American Ad executive Ray Welter sheds his former life in Chicago to come to the island of Jura off the coast of Scotland, in the cottage where George Orwell wrote the novel 1984. His plan is simple: sit in George Orwell’s house and drink whisky while reading Orwell. Unfortunately, the village residents do not know what to make of this American interloper in their midst. Much like the wacky characters of that Northern Exposure comedy, the people are unusual, off the wall, and just a tad dangerous. While Ray is trying to find himself, to heal himself from a disastrous looming divorce, the residents do not appreciate a man playing tourist in the place where their lives are lived and for whom some of their strange ways and wacky traditions are for real.

Going with a theme I seem to have stumbled upon in the last few books I’ve read, Burning Down George Orwell’s House has much to say about the evils of advertising and media and consumption. That Ray needs to heal himself is apparent, especially when the story of his “Oil Hogg” guerilla marketing campaign is shared—what kind of sick person thinks that selling cars with the intent of vandalizing them is a good idea? It ties together in 272 pages of a relatively satisfying book that I liked well enough to give 3 of 5 stars, which is pretty good, I think.





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The Life we Bury: Review

The Life We Bury by Allen Eskens

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


This book comes so close to perfect, I can’t really blame it when it falls a little short. I was really into it, so much that I immediately began noticing its flaws. (Why do we do that? Why do we become so keenly attuned to the flaws of the ones/books we love?)

Oh well, no matter, let’s just say I enjoyed the hell out of this.

College student Joe Talbert interviews an old man who is living out his dying days in a rest home after spending 30 years in jail for raping and murdering a teenage girl…all as part of a Biography project for a college class. The biography consumes Joe’s time and energy, along with having to care for his autistic brother, Jeremy, and cope with his alcoholic mother, whose frequent drunken episodes cause Joe no end of grief, making him the only functional adult in the family. Joe’s busy and stressful life is somewhat made more bearable with the company of his next door neighbor, Lila, who at first is hostile to him, but then warms to him and becomes an ally in his investigation into the old man’s past. The question: how does a decorated war veteran become a monster in civilian life?

This question takes a turn when the facts begin to emerge, and it becomes less of a philosophical novel and more something else, which I will not reveal here because I don’t want to spoil anything.
It’s fascinating for at least the first 250 pages. It has a strong sense of place (in this case, Minnesota) and in many ways it’s on par with another book I really liked, Buffalo Lockjaw by Greg Ames. The understanding of one’s hometown, with all its nuances and rhythms, and how they matter in our lives is a theme I always enjoy. And the questions the book raises about the line between good and evil--how a good man can be faced with evil and wind up regretting doing the right thing—provided me with a hook that kept me into it almost all the way through.
If the book winds up somewhere I didn’t expect or enjoy, it’s only because I thought it was so close to perfection, it couldn’t help but fall short. I’m sorry if I’m damning it with half-hearted praise, because when it was on, it was really on. And because of that, I am definitely on board for the next book from Eskens.
#aeskens










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Straight White Male: Review

Straight White Male by John Niven

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


The first time I read John Niven, I reacted in a way that is probably typical for many readers but certainly a-typical for me: I was a little offended.
It takes some doing to really offend me. But the book in question, "Kill your Friends," had some really, really questionable racist and sexist language, all coming from the perspective of the main character. I criticized him for going too far, for resorting to the lowest common denominator for a laugh and I was ready to toss the book aside and forget about it.
Then I stuck with it and over the course of the book, I found myself laughing my ass off and understanding the effect that Niven had created with the opening, giving his character so many flaws that ultimately made sense within the context of the book. I loved it so much that I went and read "The Amateurs," (about the sordid world of professional golf) and I loved it even more. Niven always seems to go so far with his material and just gleefully commits to violating all political correctness and sensitivity that would normally work its way into a more proper, “ready for Hollywood” style novel.
And then we come to this one, "Straight White Male," which while having all the fun raw nihilistic fun of the other two books I have read, kind of falls short by going (gasp!) sensitive on me.
The book’s main character is Kennedy Marr, an Irish novelist-turned-Hollywood scriptwriter, who runs into some tax trouble in LA and is compelled to return to a sleepy town in England to teach at a university, which just happens to be in close proximity to his ex-wife and sixteen year old daughter. Suddenly the womanizing, hard drinking Irishman is forced into a responsible adult role. But old habits die hard…
I’m not trying to give short shrift to the plot, but I think you get the idea. It is a fish out of water story meets a coming-to-grips-with-middle-age story. In the hands of a less funny writer, I would probably see it as such and appreciate it for what it is. But in the hands of such a talented and risk-taking writer as Niven, I found myself really disappointed at the turns it makes. To be sure, I still laughed my ass of at times and really enjoyed the way it began and where it started going. I loved the skewering of Hollywood culture and the obvious distaste the writer/character has with that crap factory that puts out sequels to movies that never should have been made in the first place. But then it just gets so soft, going long stretches where we are absorbing some wisdom but no laughing so much. I just got to the point where I was reading just to see where it would go but not enjoying it so much.
That said…
"Straight White Male" is not perfect, but fans should mostly get what they came for. I just wish he had decided to keep the tone that made me love his other books so much.
@NivenJ1







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You Can't Make This Up

You Can't Make This Up: Miracles, Memories, and the Perfect Marriage of Sports and Television by Al Michaels

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


There’s a good chance that you just watched the Super Bowl. It was a good game, a real barn-burner, and it all came down to one play on the one yard line, where an inexplicable play call blew the game for the defending champion. You probably didn’t pay too much attention to the man behind the microphone, who has now announced nine of them in his career.
And that’s exactly how he wants it.
Al Michaels is one of those guys that’s been around so long and is so ubiquitous that you almost don’t give him a second thought. But he’s been there, through Super Bowls and World Series’ and boxing matches and the Miracle at Lake Placid, calling the action for over forty years. You Can’t Make This Up is a collection of all the stories that he has announced and been a part of.
For my money, the best chapters are about the Miracle on Ice, or the 1980 U.S Olympic hockey team, who upset the Soviets in a classic, framed by Michaels’ call, “Do You Believe in Miracles? Yes!!!” One of my favorite movies, “Miracle”, based on this U.S Olympic Hockey triumph, is named from his iconic call. I also very much enjoyed his take on Howard Cosell, a man whom he loved (and sometimes hated) in that way that you can only feel about family. The story about Cosell breaking up a street fight by pontificating about the merits of each fighter and declaring it to be a mismatch (words to that effect: I really can’t do justice to this story!) by itself is worth the price of admission.
I burned through this in a matter of days; very quick reading, very entertaining book, as I knew it would be. It’s not exactly a deep and penetrating look into the man, the myth, the legend that is Al Michaels. But that is not the point. In writing, as in his broadcasting, Al Michaels knows how to stay out of the way of the story.
If you are a sports fan with any interest in sports media, this is probably the book for you.




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The Circle, by Dave Eggers: my review

The Circle by Dave Eggers

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


Like most people living in this century, I use social media on a fairly regular basis. But there’s always a limit. I don’t go personal very often, and for whatever reason I never bother to comment on people’s weddings, birthdays, birth of children, family members graduating, what have you. Frankly, it’s just a hell of a lot of trouble to put a half second of effort into highlighting the fact that I didn’t bother to buy a card or maybe call the person. I feel like it’s a slap in the face to damn someone with the faint approval of a “Like” for something as momentous as say, pushing a baby out or making a career change. So, if you know me and are “friends” with me in any on-line capacity, just understand that this is where I am coming from. And still, don’t expect a card 
In this way, I would consider myself a moderate user of social networking, still believing, ever so faintly, in the concept of personal privacy. Maybe it’s just me, but even while I continue to use and grow my own online presence (I mean, HOW long has Twitter been around, and I’m only now beginning to actually use it?) still, what I present to the world is merely a surface. My innermost thoughts and feelings do not make the cut for my 140 character tweets or Facebook updates, because, quite frankly, they are just not worth repeating, and more importantly, they don’t belong to other people.

Mae Holland, the protagonist of David Eggers’ novel The Circle, gets hired for what seems a dream job for a major internet company called the Circle. At first it seems great: a loose, free work space full of energy and ideas and parties and guest chefs and performances by popular artists. Every need that can be met is met by a near cult-like organization, which I have to admit does not seem far from the truth in a few corporations I’ve seen in the real world. At first she is assigned a fairly mundane task that involves getting feedback from customers, and then trying to improve upon the feedback to achieve a higher customer score. When she runs into a little trouble is when she fails to participate in a few too many “voluntary” company events. The Circle’s disappointment in her is evident, especially when they feel she is not “sharing” enough of herself. It is the Circle’s goal to create a world that is totally open and transparent, with no secrets, nothing held back from anyone. And to that end, why would someone need to hide anything from anyone? Mae takes this all to heart and turns the corner, becoming a superstar in the Circle. She rises fast and high…but at what cost?
Given my unwillingness to completely give up all semblance of privacy, I would be a lousy candidate for the Circle.
It’s not always a great book. It’s a little heavy handed and obvious, and maybe about 100 pages too long. But The Circle is still an engaging read that addresses many serious concerns about the effect of people openly letting everything out there, no matter how embarrassing or private. At its best, it is a tale that continues in the tradition of Orwell’s 1984, showing the worst of what could become of us if we continue to push for total openness and transparency. The parallels between this and 1984 are striking, in that they both involve a character who observes and undergoes a dramatic transformation in the service of either that State or a Corporation. In 1984, the enemy is Big Brother. In the Circle, the enemy is one another. The terrifying direction that things head in this novel make it similar in tone to the haunting words that close 1984: “He loved Big Brother.”
The Circle is more ethical/morality tale than pure fiction. Characters do seem light and underdrawn, mere vessels that convey the writer’s ideas about social networking. But if you are looking for a good counterpoint to the phenomenon of social networking going one step further and dominating the world, The Circle might be a good place to start.




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A belated Review of Jonathan Ames' "The Extra Man."

The Extra Man by Jonathan Ames
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I enjoyed the hell out of this book, but I failed to review it before returning it to the library. Alas, this Jonathan Ames...all right, let's call it a classic...is by far one of the funniest books I've read all year. As my recent reading of My Less than Secret Life informs me, this book is not far from the embarrassing truth of Ames' reality. His character is a young man who fancies himself as a young Gentleman in the tradition of an F. Scott Fitzgerald character. He moves to New York City in the early 90's with a roommate who is easily 3 times his age, though his real age is kept a mystery to the young man. The old man spends his days dancing to old records and his nights being taken out by even older ladies. They use him as an "extra man," a man to escort them out to the theater and dinner and the like. It is via this route and some very clever workarounds that the man is able to experience the finer things in life without actually having any money to spend on them.
The young man learns his ways, while living his own somewhat shameful secret life, filled with illicit encounters with prostitutes and transsexuals. It is a life he keeps from the old man even while he grows to love him as a friend and a mentor. It's kind of sweet in a very ridiculous way. It is what one might now call a "Bromance."
As with everything I've read from Ames so far, I laughed my ass off the whole time. I believe Ames is in the category of "love him or hate him." I have already written before about admiring his honesty. The fact that he can get so detailed about the things that he writes about, even when they come off as embarrassing, humbles me as a writer. There are stories and things that I do not tell because I do not have it in me to bear my soul the way he does. I believe he is a stronger writer for doing so. The Extra Man is a great place for anyone to start to see if they agree.

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A Serial Killer in Nazi Berlin: a review

A Serial Killer in Nazi Berlin: The Chilling True Story of the S-Bahn Murderer by Scott Andrew Selby

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


A relatively brief (262 pages) but fascinating true story of a not-very-well-known piece of Nazi history: the story of Paul Ogorzow, a railroad employee who derived pleasure from the killing of women during the late thirties/early forties in the heart of Berlin and the Nazi empire. His preferred M.O : bashing women over the head with a heavy object on the S-Bahn train, then throwing their bodies off in between stops. This all happened in darkness under the cover of the government enforced blackout (a way to make it hard for enemy planes to find their targets at night).
On his trail is Inspector Wilhelm Ludke. While nominally a Nazi party member, he actually feels a deep commitment to law and order, and is frustrated by the lack of help he gets from the upper reaches of the Party, who do not wish to appear weak due to the presence of a serial killer in their midst….
It is a fascinating story, against the backdrop of wartime Berlin during the Nazi regime. While the evil and “ethically challenged” leaders are busy trying to dominate the world, there were still normal everyday people who were trying to get back and forth to work, who live in fear due to the actions of one man wielding a blunt object, invisible in the darkness. While the Holocaust and Nazism represented a systemic evil, the personal level at which Ozgorow’s actions affect regular people are no less frightening and evil.
If the author ever gets bogged down in descriptions and details (why it is called the S-Bahn, the purpose of blackouts, etc.), it is only briefly. How Ozgorow is ultimately caught proves to be a breathtaking narrative, and a tribute to those who choose law and justice even when it was not the first priority of the Reich.




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A Serial Killer in Nazi Berlin: The Chilling True Story of the S-Bahn Murderer. A review.

A Serial Killer in Nazi Berlin: The Chilling True Story of the S-Bahn Murderer by Scott Andrew Selby
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A relatively brief (262 pages) but fascinating true story of a not-very-well-known piece of Nazi history: the story of Paul Ogorzow, a railroad employee who derived pleasure from the killing of women during the late thirties/early forties in the heart of Berlin and the Nazi empire. His preferred M.O : bashing women over the head with a heavy object on the S-Bahn train, then throwing their bodies off in between stops. This all happened in darkness under the cover of the government enforced blackout (a way to make it hard for enemy planes to find their targets at night).
On his trail is Inspector Wilhelm Ludke. While nominally a Nazi party member, he actually feels a deep commitment to law and order, and is frustrated by the lack of help he gets from the upper reaches of the Party, who do not wish to appear weak due to the presence of a serial killer in their midst….
It is a fascinating story, against the backdrop of wartime Berlin during the Nazi regime. While the evil and “ethically challenged” leaders are busy trying to dominate the world, there were still normal everyday people who were trying to get back and forth to work, who live in fear due to the actions of one man wielding a blunt object, invisible in the darkness. While the Holocaust and Nazism represented a systemic evil, the personal level at which Ozgorow’s actions affect regular people are no less frightening and evil.
If the author ever gets bogged down in descriptions and details (why it is called the S-Bahn, the purpose of blackouts, etc.), it is only briefly. How Ozgorow is ultimately caught proves to be a breathtaking narrative, and a tribute to those who choose law and justice even when it was not the first priority of the Reich.


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My Less Than Secret Life: A review

My Less Than Secret Life: A Diary, Fiction, Essays by Jonathan Ames
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Ames’ best and worst quality is his honesty. His absolute, brutal, not-afraid-to-embarrass-himself honesty. He vocalizes thoughts that most of us keep private, which probably should be kept private. While some may look at his many adventures with transvestites/transsexuals and his stories about pooping and nose picking and masturbation as being somewhat vulgar and unnecessary, at least you can say that he is not full of shit. He is far too open to be considered shady or dishonest.
And for me, at least, this works.
My Less than Secret Life is a compilation of much of his late ‘90s/early 2000’s work. It’s a hodgepodge of essays, short stories, letters, what have you, that serve as a very complete (some might think overly complete) picture of the author as a middle aged man.
As with any such compilation, some of it works and some of it doesn’t. I believe the two strongest pieces are the one about how two chapters of his novel were stolen in an elaborate plot by a misguided friend, and the one about visiting a porno movie set with his father. Both stories are riveting, wickedly funny accounts of things that just don’t happen to most people.
In fact, these things and many other things he writes about, including his training for and participating in a boxing match with a stage performer, just don’t happen to anyone. Yet these things happen to Ames on a regular basis. And for the most part, he welcomes the adventure. Because as a true creative non-fiction writer, in the tradition of hunter Thompson and Hemingway, Ames throws himself into the story, to hilarious effect.
I loved most everything about this book: I can’t even count the number of times I laughed out loud at something I’d read. This is a great lead-in to Ames’ fiction (read The Extra Man!), which, as this book shows, isn’t very far from the truth.
#JonathanAmes





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