Diaries usually have days and days of boring minutae in them. Far be it from me to disappoint. I have several things to do stacked up:
I just found two more bottles of Dad's Trappist Ale buried in the brew closet. I chilled them down, opened one up ... and a miracle happened. It was perfect! It was everything the Trappist Ale was meant to be, malty as all get out, a touch of hops, an afterthought of honey, and no hint of phenol. Dad, if you read this, I'm saving the second (and last) bottle until you visit, just in case.
Books I've read recently:
Mathematics and Humor, by John Allen Paulos
Very short; more an essay than a book. It's a strong and powerful essay, an attempt to model humor mathematically. It does this through the tools of catastrophe theory (which I'd never heard of, but Paulos does a great job of explaining it) and brings together modern topology with the classic literary analyses of humor to provide a compelling baseline for future mathematical/comedic study. I know I must be making this sound terribly dull, but it was actually riveting. Paulos wrote the fantastic Innumeracy several years after he wrote this, and I really think he should hit the talk show circuit; he may be able to help break people of their fear of math.
The Odd Todd Handbook: Hard Times, Soft Couch, by Todd Rosenberg
If you know me, and you're on the internet, then I've tried to show you the cartoons at http://www.oddtodd.com/. They've been a welcome comfort to me over the last few years of unreliable employment. Well, Todd wrote a book, and darned if I wasn't going to buy it, as a "thank you" for the cartoons, if nothing else. This book isn't quite as funny as the website, but it's pretty close. I especially liked the list of prank calls you can make to your friends who are still employed, such as "Jeez, man, where the hell are you? We've been waiting fifteen minutes in the conference room!"
Man's Search for Meaning, by Victor Frankl
A treatise by a Holocaust survivor who is also a psychotherapist. His take on existentialism seems to fit very closely with the beliefs I have developed since high school. The existentialists, as I was taught, said that life has no meaning beyond what you yourself bring to it. That's fine as far as it goes. What Frankl says in this book is that you MUST bring meaning into your life, it's one of your central motivations as a human animal. He saw this in the camps, and he describes how he found he could prevent prisoners from mentally giving up in the camps (an act which would swiftly be followed with a depressed immune system, a lack of hunger, and a swift death from typhus) and how this experience changed his thinking as a therapist after his release. If you are in school, and have become upset by reading Albert Camus' The Stranger, this would make a perfect companion volume to that excellent yet disturbing book.
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, by J.K. Rowling
Was I this bad as a teenager? Wow. Harry has become a sullen, whiny adolescent, and you find yourself wanting to smack him one throughout much of this book. It's an interesting choice by Rowling to characterize Harry this way, he really is a non-sympathetic protagonist in this latest episode. On the other hand, the back-room politics of the Ministry of Magic are incredibly slimy this time around, and the antagonistic characters are so entirely odious that I feel there must be some political caricatures here. Since I'm not British, there's probably a lot of satire included that flies right past me, but this is a good adventure yarn in it's own right. Tina thinks it's a bit long, and I guess I agree, but I still finished it in three days.
The Compleat Meadmaker, by Ken Schramm
Well, the proof of this one will be in the meadmaking, won't it? I'll be brewing a Chipotle Metheglin on Mead Day this Saturday, and using some of Mr. Schramm's suggestions. I can say that I learned a lot about honey, propiolis, bees, and the varietal names of fruits that would work well in a melomel. There are a lot of suggestions here; it will take me a few years to try them all out! One of the more intriguing items: the author uses neither sulfite nor heat on his must! He simply mixes everything up and let's 'er rip, trusting in his equipment sanitation and the antibiotic properties of honey! I'm not sure I have the cojones to follow suit, but we'll see; if I land some cheap honey some day, I may just.
The Best Newspaper Writing 2002, edited by ASME
This year's compilation was dominated by the September 11 attacks, and it makes for sobering reading. It's good to remind yourself of exactly what happened that day, and these dispatches bring you details, sometimes quite gory ones, that you may have missed on CNN. I wouldn't have wanted to see some of these things on TV, but it's important to know that they happened -- print is the perfect vehicle for that. The other standout entry here is a series of articles about the "Lost Boys of the Sudan", a group of children rescued from a horrible war in Africa and placed into group housing in Massachusetts.
The Game Inventor's Guidebook, by Brian Tinsman
Why have I never heard of HeroClix games? I must go out and get a set. With this book in hand, I now feel prepared to develop a game should the muse ever truly strike me. A few things this book taught me:
OK, it turns out the nearest independant bookstore is actually not that far from my house. It's a children's bookstore in Torrance. And there's another one, part of a supply house for entomologists, a block or so away from work in Gardena. There are about 10 independant bookstores within a 12-mile radius of my house, according to BookSense Independant Collective.
And the Long Beach standing has been bothering me. I just remembered that Long Beach has the biggest used bookstore I've ever seen, Acres of Books. And there's another one right next door to that. I haven't been to either of them recently, and I understand they're getting decrepit, but still ... those are two huge assets in the South Bay's favor.
Some of you might say, Brian, if you're so concerned, why haven't you been back to Acres of Books in 15 years? Why didn't you know where the nearest independent bookstore is? I've been going to Amazon, the chains and my local library over the last few years. So I really have no excuse. I'm going to visit the bookstores on that 12-mile radius list, and see if any of them are worth becoming regular haunts. Look for regular "bookstore reviews" here soon.
Maybe I'll even rename the site. What do you think of "#62 with a bullet"?
A study was released this week that rates large (pop. > 250,000) American cities by literacy and literary culture. The top ranking went to Seattle. Los Angeles was number 54 ... out of 64. Think that's bad? It gets worse. The South Bay is represented on this list. Long Beach, it turns out, has over 250,000 people. Yep. It's a big city. I've always liked Long Beach, it has a great aquarium, the Queen Mary, they used to have the Spruce Goose. My senior Prom was held in the Queen Mary, and ....
What? Stalling? OK, yes, I'm stalling. You want to know where Long Beach ranked. Well, out of 64 cities in America, I'm proud to say that Long Beach, the pearl of the South Bay, wasn't last.
It was third to last.
Civic leaders in other low-ranking cities, from Detroit to San Antonio, have taken the study to task, explaining how it doesn't really reflect a true understanding of the rich traditions of literary goings-on in their neck of the woods, and do you realize Sydney Sheldon slept here once, by God, and blah blah blah.
I'm not going to defend SoCal. Mostly because it doesn't need me to, but also because I know the study is absolutely right.
I've been to Portland. I've been to Seattle. Their high rankings are well-deserved.
Do you know where the nearest well-stocked independant bookstore to my house is? Neither do I. I think it's out in Downey somewhere; I keep meaning to go check it out. There used to be one in Hermosa Beach, but Hermosa Beach decided they'd rather have brawling drunken proto-yuppie college students instead.
If I mention a book I've been reading to a casual acquaintance in most cities, I can count on at least a glimmer of recognition, and maybe a discussion of other books that person has enjoyed. Here? Blank, vaguely guilty or defiant stares, a gaze that lets me know that discussions of that sort simply aren't welcome. An informal survey shows that some people I know can't remember the last time they read a book that wasn't for business or dieting purposes.
There are exceptions, of course. Lately I seem to be meeting many more people to whom a book is a joy. I keep hearing great things about the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books. But by and large, Los Angeles is a literary desert, with occasional precious oases, Redondo Beach and Los Angeles Public Libraries among them.
Please write in and prove me wrong!