Taking Woodstock - Elliot Tiber

$10.85 at Amazon.com

Buy it if: You want to a front row seat to the behind-the-scenes characters that made the first Woodstock a reality

Don't Buy it if: "Okie from Muskogee" is you personal anthem


I’m not morally opposed to reading books that have become films. The Stand and A Prayer for Owen Meaney remain my two favorite works of all time. (These and Welcome to the Monkey House… Now THERE’s a film I’d like to see!) But I think we’re all familiar with that familiar refrain: ‘…but the book is SO much better.’ And you know, that's usually true. Simon Birch is the cringe-inducing epitome of this phenomenon. But after seeing Taking Woodstock on the silver screen my curiosity was piqued. The movie was so over-the-top, with an incredible mélange of characters, that I had to know how much of the tale was artistic license. So many docu-dramas usually have more 'drama' than 'docu.' (As an aside, I wish publishers wouldn’t turn movie visuals into new book covers, it makes me feel like such a poser…)

There are probably few artistic/cultural watersheds of the Woodstock caliber, such was the impact of this concert held in upstate NY’s Catskills mountains. Free music, 500,000 or so fans, and a line up of artists that reads like the ultimate classic rock playlist. And it nearly didn’t happen.

As the story goes, the organizers of the "Woodstock Arts and Music Festival" had lost permission to hold the event in the originally slated location and with only weeks to go were scrambling for a solution. Enter Elliot Tiber, the gay son of Jewish-Russian immigrants tasked with keeping a money pit summer resort open and operating like the Bad News Bears of the Catskills. But he did happen to have a permit… For those familiar, it’s a hippie and acid version of Steven Sorrentino’s Luncheonette.

Despite my misgivings, the movie hugged the storyline faithfully and it becomes quickly apparent that the screenwriters aren’t responsible for the fantastic and outlandish characters contained therein...the 60’s are to blame. Sure enough, Tiber weaves a tale of coming out and coming of age in a time when the norm was to be anything but. His story is peppered with characters like Vilma (the strapping Marine-turned-transvestite-cum-resort security force), Mike Lang (organizer of the original and subsequent Woodstocks, who seems to literally float through a sea of chaos finding solutions to problems and dolling out payments from a huge paper sack full of cash, clad in nothing but jeans and buckskin vest) and his own Mama (a money-hoarding, untrusting hotel proprietor who charged extra for towels and refused refunds on any grounds.)

In the end, it’s tempting to paint the book as a romanticized, rose-colored version of what really went on at the end of the summer of ’69. Until you realize that, for once, real life actually was a romanticized, rose-colored version of itself for a single rainy weekend in 1969. A half-million people got together, loved each other and changed the world’s cultural landscape. It happened. Elliot Tiber helped make it happen. His story, for all it inherent idealism, is wonderfully real. That such a spirit couldn’t continue is unfortunate, but that it even existed at all is comforting in its own right. Worth a read.

Once a Runner – John L. Parker

In re-released hardcover from Amazon.com - $16.32
Super-Nerdy Distinction Award: Arthur Poindexter

Buy it if: You’re a runner or - better yet - want to be one.

Don’t buy it if: You think athletic pursuits are a waste of time and have no business being part of a civilized society. (Then let me know to drop you from my list!)

I hate running, I really do. And anyone who’s ever seen me ‘run’ will certainly know why. It is terribly painful, horrifically slow and mind-numbingly boring. And yet, even someone as vehemently anti-running as myself was itching to lace on some racing flats and hit the track only midway through John Parker‘s Once a Runner. Ironically, this excellent read has only recently been re-released, having languished out of print for far too long. I can only assume this is because the readers of its supposedly niche market were busy fervently passing around this Gospel-according-to-Parker and the publisher saw its new books sales dwindle. But, thankfully, this novel is once again gracing the shelves of bookstores. (Along with a long overdue sequel, Again to Carthage.)

Actually, it’s hard to believe the book ever went away in the first place. The writing style is exceptionally approachable, easy to read without being simplistic. That’s a combination that’s far easier to appreciate than it is to actually create. Like a well-run, race, the pace is even throughout, building to a fantastically written athletic climax. Though I would imagine that some runners/readers might find the more personal, less athletic sections of the book to be boring, or even unnecessary, I think these show the author at this most perceptive. The ideal of the great athlete away on some remote mountaintop patiently plying his trade and honing his skills like a monkish Rocky is much more fallacy than fact, and this book nails the characteristic dichotomy of an elite athlete almost perfectly. After all, if life didn’t intrude, competitive running would be a straight-up genetics test. The inclusion of an athlete’s disappointments and distractions lends a great humanity to the text, and it’s far better for it.

From a technical athletic point of view, all the realism is there. With the exception of a fictional college and its fictional runners, this book is set in the real world. Frank Shorter, Pre…they’re all here, if only in a brief mentioning. The times bandied about are completely appropriate for the era and nothing seems amiss or farcical. It’s a nice change from the sadly typical half-researched sports writing one often sees. (Yes, I’m taking aim at you, Swimfan.)

There are more than a few critics who’ve called the Once a Runner the greatest running novel ever written. Well, I’ll be honest, I can’t actually think of any others offhand, but I this one’s good enough that even if I could find dozens of other stories with which to compare it, I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Parker emerged on top by a large margin. Whether you run, walk or simply fatten yourself on the couch, this book is an absolute must read.

The Perfect Scent – Chandler Burr

In paperback from Amazon.com - $10.20

Buy it if: You love seeking out random information for which you have no context…and don’t understand how the f*#& they can charge $140 for three ounces of smelly liquid?!

Don’t Buy it if: You think perfume should be sold by the liter and cost about $5.95 a bottle…

Whilst walking through Manhattan this week I happened to pass by the Hermes boutique and was suddenly struck by this thought – I wonder if they still have ‘Un Jardin sur le Nil’? This is significant because until I finished Chandler Burr’s The Perfect Scent, I would have never have given such a shop a second glance. And I guarantee you that the words ‘Un Jardin’ wouldn’t be floating through my brain. Yet now I can’t help but notice the horse-motif near the entrance, a nod to the company’s beginnings as a saddle maker, while wondering if Jean-Claude is still crafting their marquis perfume.

This, to me, is proof of great writing. Burr, The New York Times’ resident perfume writer, (I know, who even knew such a position existed?!) managed to grab my attention and hold it rapt with tales of French perfume, the politics of Parisian design houses and – I wouldn’t have believed it myself – Sarah Jessica Parker. Like a great book on wine, food or travel, you’ll spend good portions of your time reading wishing you could experience all that the author is describing…the mark of truly engaging words. (In a thoughtfully synergistic marketing move that benefits the reader who confronts this desire, the paperback version of the book does come with a bookmark containing a sample of Sarah Jessica’s fragrance, Lovely.)

Overtly, the book follows twinned storylines: One follows along as Mrs. Parker attempts to design her own scent and bring it to market, eventually creating one of the most successful celebrity perfumes yet seen. The other is the old world journey of the aforementioned Un Jardin sur le Nil, a scent created by Jean-Claude Ellena, a renowned perfumier who’s been retained by Hermes as they attempt to stamp their mark on the startlingly cutthroat designer perfume business. And you thought it was all just putting nice-smelling stuff into a bottle?

Burr uses these two specific narratives to lay out an elegant tale of the entire industry. While I have to assume the business described is not unknown to some, I would be willing to bet the average reader – like myself – will find the journey of these combined molecules from inspiration to laboratory, from design to market, utterly fascinating. Perfumery is a true art that is delivered by science, and the process is simply astounding. The author provides excellent descriptions of precisely the right depth and length, enough to involve the reader and evoke curiosity, but not stall the book’s forward motion. The silver lining for those of you who eschew the knockoff perfumes and colognes in Target is the inclusion of the astronomical prices of some of the building scents used to create these olfactory elixirs. It’s oddly reassuring to know that the people tasked with building these scents can tell you not only that they prefer jasmine that comes from Grasse instead of India, but also why. And how the difference in price may be justified. You may still not feel that tiny bottle with the Dior label on it is worth $300, but at least you’ll know that number is not simply a company trading on its name for the highest possible margins.

The Perfect Scent succeeded – for me – as a piece of writing by taking a subject for which I have no context or familiarity and igniting an interest that grew steadily over the course of my reading. Chandler Burr gives you just enough information to be dangerous at cocktail parties, but also keeps your intellect involved to the point that you will continue to look down long, elegant perfume counters with a new respect sense of intrigue as you consider the long journey these liquids have taken. Dare I say it? Ok, fine, this one smells like a winner.

Lance Armstrong's War - Daniel Coyle

Amazon.com - $10.19
Super Nerdy Distinction Award: Gilbert Lowell

Buy it if: You want the whole Lance picture, good, bad and ugly. And you have an open mind.

Don't buy it if: You're ready to nominate Armstrong for sainthood or simply feel like ignorance is bliss when it comes to the darker side of pro cycling.

You think it’s easy to win the Tour de France? It ain’t easy. Seven times in a row? This not the accomplishment of a regular person. And no one would ever label Lance Armstrong regular. But it’s not enough to enjoy the platitudes of It’s Not About the Bike or give in the doping skepticism of From Lance to Landis. No amount of EPO or testosterone is going to create an athlete like Lance Armstrong. And all the money in the world can’t put just anyone in the yellow jersey. There’s just no single determining factor that guarantees those kinds of results. But there’s certainly a set of circumstance. Good, bad and sometimes very ugly, Daniel Coyle pulls back nearly all of the curtains in Lance Armstrong’s War to deliver what is easily one of the most compelling sports narratives of all time. If you’re not firing up Amazon.com at the conclusion of this review to place it on order, you’re missing out.

How Daniel Coyle managed to get the access to Lance, his team, his family and even his enemies is never revealed, but Lance Armstrong’s War gives an unprecedented look at into a man who simultaneously plays the roles of cancer hero, social statesman and ruthless – make that cutthroat – competitor. From childhood prodigy to modern slayer the truth surrounding the man is in here, and it’s often dark around the edges.

While the book’s ‘present’ is roughly the same timeline as 23 Days in July, encapsulating Lance’s 6th Tour de France victory and the run up to it, Coyle also makes frequent trips to the past, with special attention paid to the boyhood Lance, who would routinely rebel against authority, with the author citing ‘You’re not my Dad!’ as one of his familiar refrains. Equally fascinating is the book's inclusion of stories that might seem familiar to those with some ‘Lance experience.’ The drug allegations, cancer and corporate income are hardly news, but somehow this writer manages to get those closest to Armstrong to talk rather forthrightly. As far as I can tell, no other work can touch this one in terms of depth or new perspectives. Or ability to get teammates like Joathan Vaughters and Floyd Landis to speak so plainly about the patron of the peloton.

These new perspectives stand in starkest relief with regard to Dr. Michele Ferrari, Lance’s exceptionally (even for him) controversial former trainer. What? Never heard of him? That’s by design. But Coyle clearly demonstrates the massive role the Italian adviser played in Lance’s cycling career. The question constantly assumed but never broached: How has someone so important to such a famous athlete gone so relatively unnoticed for so long? Coyle doesn’t intend to answer the question, but it’s the asking that’s important.

Other notable highlights from the book include the Armstrong camp’s ‘media blacklist,’ which keeps track of those who would write disparaging articles (and books!) Quotes from former and current team members also lend dimension to a man who is remarkably in control of his own image. And for the uber-cycling nerds out there, terrific insight into the technical innovations pursued by the gear gurus Armstrong employs. The story of the $250,000 ‘narrow bike’ is a superb example of modern athletic innovation.

Whether you love him, hate him or are completely indifferent to his comings and goings, Lance Armstrong’s War is a brutally honest, impressively deep and surprisingly humorous look at a man who is sure to remain a sporting enigma for years to come. I can honestly say I’ve never read a sports biography that even approaches the level that Coyle has achieved. Order it now. I have a feeling it’s going to be an interesting July in France…

23 Days in July – John Wilcockson

Non-Fiction
$13.16 from Amazon.com

Buy it if: You want to understand what makes le Tour de France such a big deal. And how can a 2,100-mile bike race be won by only 8 seconds?

Don’t buy it if: You: ‘Big deal, they ride around France in Lycra for a few weeks... I want to see Manny Ramirez bang out some homers!’

How do you race a bicycle for 21 days and win by only a few minutes? What’s up with the funny looking bikes and phallic helmets? Where do the riders sleep? What’s the difference between the green, yellow, white and polka dot jerseys?

These are all questions that anyone new to the Tour de France probably has. Despite being the most watched sporting event in the world (It’s true. The only thing that even comes close is World Cup soccer, and that only happens every four years.) the inner workings, details, traditions and rules of the race are still largely mysterious to most Americans. Even with Lance Armstrong’s domination and cycling’s recent surge in popularity, the pro peloton (This means the racing pack. Much of cycling is still described in its ‘native’ French.) remains shrouded in mystery for many sports fans.

23 Days in July is the perfect accompaniment to le Tour. It’s framed around Lance Armstrong’s record-setting (and arguably most dominant) sixth win in 2004, but also includes other notable characters in the 23 day drama. Olympian Tyler Hamilton (and caught doper), former winner (and caught doper) Jan Ullrich and even Pennsylvania Dutch Mennonite-turned-pro cyclist (and alleged doper!) Floyd Landis are among the other pieces in this nearly month long athletic chess match, and the author places each into the context of the race perfectly, allowing the readers to understand the dynamics of stage racing and the tactics that go into winning a race like this. For anyone who ever wondered why you would actually want to give away the leadership of the race or what EPO actually does, 23 Days in July has your answer!

Wilcockson – who’s been a cyclo-journalist for over 40 years – is well-suited to providing insight into the personalities and situations that form the context for this book. Cycling is, if nothing else, exceptionally traditional. The author’s ability to deftly demonstrate how past situations have helped shape modern races is impressive and his pedigree gives the writing real depth and helps set the stage for the overt story of the 2004 Tour.

The book itself is also laid out fantastically. Every day of the race is given its own chapter, concluding with the ‘current’ standings of race leaders and favorites. This is a great help to the new reader and places the individual stages into the context of the whole tour and allows those who’ve never seen a single stage to still feel the excitement and drama inherent to cycling’s biggest race. An appendix with frequently asked questions and a glossary of cycling terms is also a nice touch…

The Hour – Michael Hutchinson

New and Used Section of Amazon.com - $7.19

Buy it if: You can easily explain why you prefer Shimano or Campagnolo and know the difference between tubulars and clinchers…

Don’t Buy it if: Your thoughts: “Enough is enough, it’s a guy riding around in a circle, who cares how far he goes, he’s still in the same place…”

You have one hour, ride as far as you can. That sounds simple enough, doesn’t it? And that’s precisely the paradox that is cycling’s hour record. What sounds simple rarely is…not to mention it’s not exactly easy to ride at over 55 kph for 60 minutes.

The Hour by Michael Hutchinson purports to be the story of a relatively unknown journeyman cyclist – the author himself – and his quest to set a new standard for one of the most significant records in the sport. And if it were only that, it would probably still be interesting.

You see, the Hour isn’t just one of many records. While there are other track cycling records – many in fact – they are all based on covering a distance in less time. This one is unique for being based on the inversion of the standard. Everyone must suffer for the same duration. And those who have moved that distance ever farther comprise a who’s who of cycling: Anquetil, Indurain, Boardman, Moser and, of course, Merckx.

Though Hutchinson largely focuses on himself (and the attendant difficulties that come along with trying to break cycling’s purest record – booking track time, building a legal bike, finding the fastest tires) it’s his constant references to past record holders and attempts that really make for compelling reading. This history covers the time since the hour’s inception by the Tour de France’s creator Henri Desgrange up to the Chris Boardman/Graeme Obree period, which saw the record fall to one rider on a million dollar superbike and to another on a homemade amalgamation with washing machine bearings at it’s heart. The author’s own efforts and difficulties in trying to meet the rules of the UCI (cycling’s governing body), find the fastest, most appropriate equipment (aerodynamic helmets and wheels are disallowed), and maintaining the physical training required to sustain a speed of 34 MPH for 60 minutes are given context when compared with past efforts.

If anything, the book stumbles slightly in that it almost makes the record seem approachable. Hutchinson can’t be completely blamed for this, after all, the record is not as far from his grasp as it would be for the average person. Fully explaining the sheer physical difficulty of a ride like this could border on arrogance if not couched properly, but for any readers who are familiar with the list of previous Hour record holders the enormity of the effort will be readily apparent.

Overall this book succeeds in both its own story and as a history of the Hour record itself. The pacing is good and Hutchinson does a superb job of tying the past in with his own memoir. Well worth a read even for those who don’t know the difference between an English and Italian bottom bracket…

Greg Lemond’s Complete Book of Bicycling – Greg Lemond and Kent Gords

Non-Fiction
Out of print, but usually available used from Amazon or in the library

Buy it if: You’re looking for solid and comprehensive guide to nearly all aspects of cycling, competitive and otherwise

Don’t Buy it if: You’ve already got shelves full of cycling books and know your seat height, hip angle and stem length by heart.

With July looming it’s getting near that time again: ‘Tour' time, the period during the summer when cycling companies traditionally unveil their latest and greatest technical achievements, just in time to place on the cycling world’s biggest stage: Le Tour de France. Trek’s sexy new bikes, 3T’s faster handlebars, Shimano’s latest brakes…they all crop up with promises of lighter weight, lower drag and more artistic lines. The arms race that is professional cycling gear never stops. And, just like computers, the second you buy that new carbon/ceramic/unobtanium piece for your steed a better version comes out. It’s a never-ending quest to simply not get left behind…

Which is why Greg Lemond’s Complete Book of Bicycling is so cool. Having been penned in 1987 (hot on the heels of Greg’s becoming the first American to win Le Tour) it should be dated to the point of obsolescence. But it’s not. Actually, most of the information contained within is both amazingly relevant and useful even now, in 2009. And really, it should be. After all, how much has the bicycle really changed in 20 years? True, carbon fiber long ago replaced steel. And shifters migrated off the down tube in the early 90’s. But pedals, wheels and gears…well, they’re pretty much exactly the same. And, for the most part, so are the people doing the riding.

Lemond’s book is still relevant today for the same reason you can reuse an algebra textbook. The fundamentals are still there, and in Greg’s case, his grasp on these concepts is exceptionally solid. Every chapter is well thought out, thoroughly explained and – most importantly – exceedingly applicable.

After the obligatory (he was perhaps the most famous cyclist in the world when this book came out) mini-biography and a brief synopsis about the ‘World of Cycling,’ - which usefully covers commuting, touring, along with road and track racing - he dives right in to topics that are still at the forefront of modern cycling. There’s a chapter on picking your bicycle, one on getting it properly fit. There are sections on cycling technique and training regimens. There's even a decently thorough chapter on bicycle maintenance. While the Complete Book of Bicycling might not explore the minutia of maintenance like Leonard Zinn’s handbook or delve into training details like something by Chris Carmichael, if you could only buy one book on cycling, it would have to be this one.

Of course, there are some parts you’re just going to have to overlook. The descriptions of cycling shoes and Kevlar/aluminum bikes will seem laughable these days. As will the idea that you can get a race-ready bike brand new for $350. But Lemond’s words about seat heights, body position and training periodization ring as true now as ever, and you'd be hard pressed to find more coherent and complete descriptions in any cycling book anywhere.

So, if you’re a bleeding-edge-of-technology drooler or don’t even count a ride unless it’s been measured and calibrated with a powermeter and heart rate monitor, this one might not be for you. But if you’re looking for good solid advice that took the author to three Tour victories (and probably inspired more than a few of the pros that followed in his footsteps) this book – like the cyclist that wrote it - is virtually impossible to beat.

It’s Not About the Bike – Lance Armstrong w/ Sally Jenkins

Non-Fiction (unless you’re a doping conspiracy theorist)
$9.75 from Amazon.com

Buy it if: You know little about cycling, but find Lance Armstrong to be an inspiring figure

Don’t Buy it if: You think Lance is a doper and don’t believe a word he says

The original. It’s a tough book to beat for the mainstream audience. It’s got all the requisite angles: Surviving against the odds, underdog victory and even a (kind of) love story. You’d have to be living under a rock to not know approximately what’s contained within (And even then, it would probably only be a matter of time before a centipede crawled by wearing a LiveStrong bracelet…) but there’s something to be said for getting the story from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.

The truth of the matter is, if you regularly use the words 'peloton' and 'domestique' in everyday conversation, there’s not going to be much here that’s news to you. Hardcore cycle fans know the story of Armstrong already, plus the stories of Hincapie, Pantani, Ullrich, Lemond, etc… But if you see road bikes and think ‘Trek’ or believe that quaint little July race to Paris would be better termed the ‘Tour de Lance,’ this book is probably the best introduction you can find.

It’s Not About the Bike is a great, if slightly misleading, title, because in these pages, the focus is elsewhere. True, cycle racing figures prominently, but his story of cancer survival is given equal footing and this is almost certainly the story towards which most readers will gravitate. And it is a remarkable one, there’s no denying it. The difficulty of winning the Tour de France even once – let alone the record seven times Lance has – is incredible. The odds of successfully beating advanced testicular/lung/brain cancer? Almost equally long. Doing both in the course of five years? It would be a disservice to not write a book.

Of course, the pages hold little new information for anyone with a access to television or newspapers, especially given that much of the story is painted in broad strokes and overtly missing some very important characters. (Dr. Michele Ferrari where are you? Lance’s trusted but controversial former trainer is not mentioned once in this book, despite the very important role he played in Armstrong’s athletic career.) But millions of cancer patients couldn’t care less, and to some extent, that’s the point. Armstrong was given a sentence of death by cancer and overcame it. And he did so with hard, detailed work and research. This is his message and no one can deny it’s an important one, whether you ever push the pedals of two-wheeled transport or not…

If you’re looking for a hardcore cycling story look elsewhere, but if you’re looking for a little inspiration and affirmation, this book might be the ticket. Even if the words ‘EPO,’ ‘soigneur’ and ‘crankset’ don’t even register on your radar, you’ll find something to take away from this one. My only real qualm? Come on, Lance, maybe it is just a little about the bike?

The Wal-Mart Effect - Charles Fishman

Non-Fiction
$10.20 from Amazon.com (Not for sale at Wal-Mart retail outfits...)

Super Nerdy Distinction Award: Gilbert Lowell

Buy it if: You want to read one of the most fascinating books about corporate control of the global economy ever written

Don’t Buy it if: You’re an addicted Wal-Mart shopper who doesn’t want to know about the evil ways they keep those prices down…

There is an evil empire out there, and it was founded by Sam Walton. Whether you’re a Wal-Mart hater or an addicted shopper, there’s no denying the chain’s ubiquitous presence in America. My own town of York has two Wal-Mart Supercenters, one for each side of town! But how did this little midwestern discount store expand to the corporate monolith it is today? How pervasive is its influence when it comes to the economy? And how can they sell things so cheaply and still survive?

Charles Fishman tackles these questions and more in his superb book, The Wal-Mart Effect. 259 pages hardly seems enough to cover a corporation’s impact on the global economy while including a variety of case studies and well-trimmed statistics, but Fishman has no wasted words. Start to finish every sentence is a fascinating insight into the (very disturbing) depth to which Wal-Mart shapes the scales and breadth of worldwide commodities.

Of course, it’s one thing to point to statistics, declining trends and regression lines and use them to illustrate the obvious: Wal-Mart’s insistence on razor-thin margins trickles down through nearly every commercial enterprise in the world, from trucking to salmon farming. But the author’s brilliant incorporation of specific products and cases prevents the book from veering into the abstract. Two of the most memorable examples are the ‘Makin’ Bacon’ bacon microwave tray and Snapper lawnmowers. The former maintains a commercial relationship with the super chain and offers insight into the meeting and marketing process that occurs at Wal-Mart headquarters, while the latter is used an example of a company that could no longer juxtapose Wal-Mart’s insistence on lower prices with its own quality standards and thus had ceased appearing on the stores’ shelves.

Throughout the book, insights from Wal-Mart and manufacturer principles are used to bring depth to what could have been a very dry take on finances, economics and your basic supply and demand. Instead, we’re clued in to what makes Wal-Mart so different. After all, Target has nearly the same products at nearly the same prices, but Wal-Mart’s are ALWAYS lower. Why? And does it make a difference? Fishman posits that it certainly does and cites examples to prove this. (Wal-Mart’s corporate power being the most obvious one.) But what’s even more fascinating is the trickle down effect that comes from the policies of a company as massive as Wal-Mart - who’s trucking fleet is actually larger than that of the US government… It’s this study of the company’s effect on the world at large that is the main theme of The Wal-Mart Effect and it’s chilling to say the least. Big Brother may not be here yet, but if he comes, it’s a near certainty he’ll be arriving via a ‘Low Price Guarantee.’

As you know, I am a sucker for corporate profiles, but this one transcends the normal nerd-quotient and should suck in even you mainstreamers. It’s a glimpse into the brain of the monster in your backyard. (Or, in the case of the my town, the TWO ‘super’ monsters in my backyard.) You won’t ever look at the that massively blank storefront – or even the kindly old greeter – the same way again. Whether it’s with fear or loathing, The Wal-Mart Effect will forever change you discount retail perspective…

Service Included – Phoebe Damrosch

Non-Fiction
$12.56 from Amazon.com

Buy it if: You love Hell’s Kitchen, Spanglish or Thomas Keller

Don’t Buy It If: You think Ruby Tuesday’s is overpriced and too fancy

I have this weird fascination with fine dining, but I’m not sure where it comes from. Lord knows I don’t have a taste for tripe or sweetbreads. In fact, my culinary preferences run a lot more towards rustic Italian than classic French. But there’s something about the precision machines that are classic fine dining establishments that just draw me in. Maybe it’s too many episodes of Hell’s Kitchen. Or perhaps my own feeble attempts to prepare more than two dinner courses at a time have led me to this. Either way, books that pull back the metaphorical curtain that is the swinging kitchen door just suck me right in.

Of course, like restaurants, all books are not created equal. And I’d like to think that, at least in a literary sense, I have a relatively discerning palette. Hence, I have ‘no reservations’ (cue rim shot) about recommending Phoebe Damrosch’s Service Included, a memoir of her time spent as a member of the service staff at Thomas Keller’s New York eatery, Per Se. Like most of my favorite first-person experiential tales, Damrosch didn’t go looking for a book. No, she went looking for a job and the book followed and I think there’s something to be said for discovering the story, rather than seeking it out, as these tend to be the most interesting ones…

What really gives Service Included an edge over similar works is the author’s presence from the beginning of Per Se. It’s one thing to assimilate into a functioning workplace, quite another to be there for the evolution of its creation. This is unique perspective doubles the book’s ‘bang for the buck’ if you will. A behind-the-scenes look at the life and work of a fine dining waiter is fascinating enough (it ain’t like your local diner, that’s for sure) but couple this view with the process of getting such an establishment up and running, and a whole other world begins to emerge for the reader.

We learn with Phoebe as she describes the nonstop education the waitstaff receives. From daily food briefings about the menu to more in depth bits of knowledge such as – seriously – the origins of the different salts used by the kitchen, the foodiness of a fine dining front of house staff comes off as more than a little intense. And the details! Some of the author’s most fascinating anecdotes revolve around the experience that is a restaurant with a premiere chef in a premiere city. Meal courses scrapped because a guest wasn’t present at the table and it’s against policy to serve in such a situation. The honor that is being served off menu as a ‘gift’ from the chef. The astounding variety of food that can come from a tasting menu. It’s a world that has no comparison to your everyday dining experience.

Naturally, as a memoir of sorts, there’s a rich personal story as well. After all, the author is trying to succeed in what turns out to be a very intense business, and the crossover between the personal and professional lives that she portrayed is simply astounding. Never in my life have I ever considered scouring New York City for the best bone marrow dish, but this is exactly the kind of night out these high end food folks crave… And while it’s tough to relate to such a particular search, as someone who works in an industry where passion for the work often outstrips the standard desire to simply earn a paycheck, I can absolutely relate. I seek out sexy microphones and bleeding edge sound consoles with the same intensity. The consuming interest of the Per Se staff absolutely comes across and the book is all the richer for it. Intensity is tough to fake, but fortunately for us, Damrosch has done nothing of the sort.

The most telling aspect in any book like this is whether or not you find yourself wanting to make a pilgrimage to the story’s epicenter yourself when it’s over. I may never get to dine at Per Se myself (the meals are a bit on the pricey side from what I gather) but I’m hoping… Any book that not only entertains and informs during the reading - but also continue to inspire and stir the reader afterwards - is certainly one that’s well worth picking up. Especially at a cost that comes in below anything you’d find in a Thomas Keller dining room…

Duma Key – Stephen King

Fiction
Softcover from Amazon.com - $9.99

Buy it if: You love classic Stephen King, the kind that keeps up for nights at a time.

Don’t buy it if: You wish Mr. King wrote more ‘Shawshank Redemptions’ and less ‘Pet Semetarys…’

It’s not that I thought Stephen King was getting soft – far from it – but lately he’s been writing about the Red Sox and penning columns for Entertainment Weekly. He even bought a beach house in Florida! With the grim Maine winters out of his life maybe he’s finally taking a little time to kick back and explore some new facets of life? OK, the man’s earned it. Despite swirling rumors for years about his imminent retirement he keeps turning out a simply astounding number of novels – the anti-James Joyce. But still, I couldn’t help but wonder where the terror had gone. The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon was great, but I didn't feel my own mortality while reading it. I had a hard time even worrying about the girl. It was as close to a feel-good novel as King gets. (OK, maybe that’s The Green Mile, but come on, that one is astounding.)

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t need to be frightened by him to love what he’s written. I still contend he will be 20th century author most revered in coming decades. But I sure like it when he scares me out of my wits ‘Salem’s Lot-style.

Duma Key did it. And did it with an idyllic setting in – where else? – the Florida keys. I doubt he set out to prove horror grows just as strongly in the warm, summer shadows of sandy Floridian spits…but it happened anyway. The creeping hand of death has returned in a new form and forum. It’s just that now a lot more of the characters are probably wearing sunscreen.

Edgar, construction-magnate-turned-crippled-divorcee, is seeking some breathing room in his new sunny Florida digs, trying to heal himself through the expressive power of art. But this ain’t a ‘Stella getting her groove back’ tropical vacation with Edgar doing some feel good soul searching and finding a gal pal love interest. No. This a haunted, creepy, evil journey that’s going to grip Edgar through – of all things – painting. It’s vintage King, taking the ordinary and turning it into a hell of terror with subtle touches that draw you in. The pace ramps up, catches you off guard and finds you feverishly turning pages, waiting for the ghosts and demons to show themselves… But like most King novels, the baddies rarely appear overtly… It’s the devil in your own mind that puts you on edge and the writer wields this skill as ably as ever.

Of course, recommending a Stephen King book is kind of like telling you to go out and buy a Springsteen album. Chances are, a lot of minds were made up before the thing even left the printer. The die-hards bought the hardcover version on the release date - I know I did- and the haters wouldn’t take a free copy if offered. But I’m talking to the ones on the edge of decision, who pine for the days of Misery and Christine… This one’s for you… Get it. The man’s back in a big way. Like the best bits of Cujo and The Tommyknockers, Duma Key’s got that ‘thing.’ That flesh-crawling, peering-over-your-shoulder, double-checking the locks thing
(fear)
that it seems only Stephen King can deliver. Absolutely get it. Then look under your bed, close the closet and start reading…

The Emperors of Chocolate – Joel Glenn Brenner

Non-Fiction
Softcover from Amazon - $10.85
Extra Super Nerdy Distinction!

Buy it if: Like chocolate or not, you’re a sucker for a charming business profile

Don’t buy it if: No way, no how do you care about business of any kind. And you’re lactose intolerant to boot…

I love chocolate, I really do. Dark chocolate, milk chocolate, white chocolate…it’s really one of the world’s most fantastic substances. Surprisingly, I never considered this when I purchased a house so near two of the world’s most influential chocolate makers. With Hershey being just across the Susquehanna River and Mars near my old DC haunt in northern Virginia, I’m ideally located for sweet gorging. I knew that. What I didn’t know was the rich and vibrant history of these companies. And the strikingly different stories that lie behind their respective creations.

Yet, despite my admitted naïvete, I’m no longer blindly perusing the candy aisle with no sense of the deep history I’m strolling past. In The Emperors of Chocolate, author Joel Glenn Brenner tells the parallel tales of Hershey and Mars with encompassing profiles of each business and its values, while including some of the most fascinating details you’ll ever find in a business profile. Not since Roald Dahl has there been such richly told story of candy.

Admittedly, Brenner has been gifted a great cast of characters. Mars plays the vast, Microsoft-style empire, quietly dominating industries you’d never even suspect it owns (kitty litter?!) from the quiet little town of McClean, Virginia. Meanwhile, Milton Hershey’s little experiment careens wildy with Wonka-like flair - the Apple to Mars’ Microsoft - eschewing traditional business schemes for philanthropy and parks. (Hershey Park used to be just that, a park for Hershey employees to enjoy during their free time.) There’s even a company funded Hershey school for boys that could be (and probably is) the subject of a book itself.

As The Emperors of Chocolate explores the vastly different roots and philosophies of these companies with dueting, call and response-style chapters, it also carefully weaves in the rest of the chocolate-making world for context. Nestle, Cadbury and the others make appearances when appropriate and help set a very useful context for the discussions that follow. Even with the focus squarely on Mars and Hershey, it’s difficult to avoid becoming enamored with the asides pertaining to world chocolate supplies and the difference between American and European pallets. (Just ask a Londoner their opinion of the Hershey flavor, you’ll see!) It’s easy to forget what a common human experience chocolate is, and as such, one that nearly everybody has an opinion on. But oh how those opinions vary! Without a doubt, once Brenner’s through with you you’ll never taste chocolate the same way again, and in this case, that’s a very good thing.

But this work really succeeds thanks to its infusions of drama and character. In my opinion, the measure of a truly great business profile is found in the enchanting details, the small facts that lodge themselves in your brain, only to reappear months later in the oddest of contexts. The Emperors of Chocolate delivers these in spades. Admittedly, more of the vignettes are Hershey-centric, but that is mainly due to the unbelievable secrecy that has traditionally surrounded the Mars company, a veil that is rarely lifted even today and a circumstance, that ironically, makes the company all the more fascinating. Hershey, on the other hand, continually delivers charm and joy at nearly every turn, and some bits are just plain fun. Did you know Milton Hershey’s mother personally wrapped Kisses in foil by hand on her front porch until the day she died. How cool is that?

Brenner’s economy of words packs a lot into a little space and this one of the few business profiles that I think ‘goes mainstream.’ Even if such reading material is not normally your cup of tea, this one absolutely deserves a shot. It’s tough not to be captivated by these vastly different companies, dueling for the same market, and the author delivers the goods in chapter after chapter with a terrific writing style. Highly recommended, whether you prefer milk, dark or even with almonds…

Here’s the Story – Maureen McCormick

Autobiography
Hardcover from Amazon.com - $19.72

Buy it if: You slow down for car accidents

Don’t Buy it if: You feel sick at the idea of another child-star tell-all

‘Marcia, Marcia, Marcia…’ You know it, you love it, you’ve said it. Maureen McCormick lived it. The damaged-child-star-life-ruined story has become a familiar literary motif these days. The ‘Diff’rent Strokes’ kids, Danny Bonaducci’s beyond-surreal life. Even Soleil Moon Fry (Punky Brewster for those not in the know) has managed to keep herself ‘relevant.’ Does Maureen ‘Marcia Brady’ McCormick’s effort suffer as a result of those who’ve come before her? I think not. But the book does struggle a bit on its own merits.

Though I never made an effort to watch the Brady Bunch, I think it would be impossible to grow up in America (maybe anywhere in the western world) and not see at least a few episodes here and there. It’s ubiquitous and gives any reader at least a moderate amount of context for this book, which has a massive focus on the ‘Bunch.’ In fact, it’s really quite surprising what a role the television show played in McCormick’s life. I was under the impression that, like so many child actors, the show was only a jumping off point for her tumultuous ride to pseudo-fame and the typical trappings that usually entails. Instead, I was surprised to find the Bradys continuously cropping up throughout her life. It does give the reader an oddly comforting touchstone with every mention, despite the fact that you can easily find yourself transposing the characters and real-life actors. Amazingly, doing so doesn’t usually lead you too far off the mark.

As for the content, well…it’s actually fairly boilerplate celebrity with a few surprises. Drugs? Check. Weight gain? Check. Affairs? Check. Family mental illness? It doesn’t come in the form you might expect, but…check. Disappointingly, there are definitely some missing sections. She mentions an album once and has pictures of herself on tour, yet nothing is written about her ‘musical career.’ She also seems to allude to a deep religious conviction, but never really shines a light on that either. It’s a bit odd that some parts of her life receive such detailed examination while others are wholly left out of the text. I can only wonder about the reasons for omission as, given what was included, she’s not afraid to show the worst sides of herself.

Ironically, my initial impetus for purchasing this book came after hearing McCormick on the Howard Stern show. She was inviting, forthright, candid and charming. I figured that if the book was written in the same tone it would be enjoyable, with a twist of 70s-child-start voyeurism… Unfortunately, it’s a little more staid with less humor. A lot of that personality does come across, but not with the same verve she mustered for Howard.

As I finished, Here’s the Story, I was reminded of something a friend of mine told me recently. She mentioned that she walked out of Oliver Stone’s ‘W’ in the fall, not because she felt it was incorrect or poorly made, but merely because she didn’t think enough time had passed to give the subject matter proper perspective. I have to say, this book suffers from the same issue. It covers events right up until the middle of last year, and they’re not small or insignificant ones, either. It’s tough to muster conviction when an author with such a tumultuous life is writing about occurrences from such a recent time period. I think it’s just a bit too soon…

So, for this reason, I’d say it’s best to hold off on this one. HOWEVER, when the paperback comes out with the oh-so-inevitable ‘Now, with a brand new afterword!’ splashed across the front, then I say unleash your wallet for Marcia, Marcia, Marcia. Hopefully by then she’ll have found time to reflect a bit more and deliver the rest of the goods…

Odd Thomas – Dean Koontz

Paperback from Amazon.com - $11.20
Fiction

Buy it if: Harry Potter meets The Sixth Sense with Jack Bauer’s bad luck piques your interest

Don’t buy it if: You’re really put off by authors that use clichés. Or you’re just emotionally dead inside...

I really don’t care for Dean Koontz. It’s tempting to call him bargain basement Stephen King, but that’s not really fair either. There are some (OK, maybe more than some) similarities between the two authors, sure. And a fair amount of Koontz does read like streamlined and gutted King. Literary nuance? Out. Graphic descriptions? In. But I like Odd Thomas. I like Odd Thomas a lot. And as result, I like the book Odd Thomas a lot, too. That’s right, Odd Thomas is the main character’s name. And while it smacks of hackery, for a teenage orphan with the supernatural ability to see dead people (not quite in a Sixth Sense kind of way, but damn close) it does work - even if you desperately want it not to.

It’s true, on the surface the book has nothing going for it – clichéd characters with more clichéd names, wildly successful societal outcasts who play the boy’s benefactors, people with hearts of gold that are a little too pure. But I’ll be damned…it just works. Why? Because there’s a story. It may be far-fetched, it may be a little convoluted, it may even be a bit predictable…but it’s refreshing to hold a good story in your hands from time to time, and that’s exactly what Odd Thomas is. Take it as the world’s longest campfire tale. Put snacks in a bowl, curl up under a blanket and just take in the simple enjoyment that comes from an enchanting narrative. Our friend Dean takes most the successful page from the J.K. Rowling playbook and runs with it: Fantastic characters in strange situations with nothing but pure yarn weaving from introduction to conclusion. Is it done as well as the Harry Potter stuff? Of course not. But it’s still a very ‘story-centric’ piece of writing, which is probably rarer than you realize…

In fairness, Odd Thomas is only the first book in a series that currently includes three other volumes. And with each passing chronicle the characters wear a little bit thinner and miss out on a touch of growth. It’s disappointing given how endearing they are in this first piece. I can’t help but wish Koontz used just a little more innovation when he fleshed them out as they’ve been getting a little bit flimsy of late...

As for the next three, Forever Odd, Brother Odd, and Odd Hours (can you spot the titular theme?) I wouldn’t recommend them on their own. But a big part of me fell in love with the main character from go and I want to see how he turns out, so I’m sticking to the franchise, warts and all. Bruce promised me that ‘faith will be rewarded’ and I’m hoping that’s true.

I know I haven’t painted the rosiest picture here, but I have to say - objective problems aside - Odd Thomas DOES have the very rarest quality of all: It makes you care about the characters. Most of the time I put down a novel and the people contained within simply cease to be. Once there for my entertainment they vanish after the final page is turned. But every once in a while you can be made to care to about these fantasms that exist only where ink meets paper. This is uncommon and exciting...and somehow Dean Koontz manages to imbue this story with just that type of emotional involvement. It’s a sucker-punch of literary achievement that I didn’t see coming. And in the end…yeah, I cared about poor little Odd. And I bet you will, too…

Better – Atul Gawande

Non-Fiction
Paperback from Amazon - $10.98
Extra Super Nerdy Award: Lewis Skolnick

Buy if if: You’re curious about medicine and ethics

Don’t buy it if: You find no joy in frank discussion about the medical field


I’m not entirely sure what made Atul Gawande decide to give writing a shot. You’d have to think that becoming a very successful and respected surgeon is a pretty decent accomplishment in and of itself. Fortunately for the rest of us, Gawande saw enough in his medical experiences to encourage his own documentation. First in Complications: A Surgeon’s Notes on an Imperfect Science, and now in Better, he looks at how medical professionals across the globe are exceeding the limits of what was previously assumed impossible and the role of ethics and standards in medicine.

The stories alone make fascinating reading for anyone with an interest in medical technology and/or healthcare disparities around the globe. But Better really shines while investigating how this improvement is achieved by doctors from Minnesota to India. The story of Drs. Warwick’s and Matthews’ drastic improvement of cystic fibrosis life expectancy is remarkable, a tribute to just how much can be gained by continual and rapt attention to detail. But the invention of laprascopic ulcer repair by a doctor working in the small, Indian village of Motewar borders on the miraculous.

Some medical breakthroughs are impressive enough coming from big city hospitals that have been loaded to the brim with doctors from the world’s best universities… But to then ascribe breakthroughs to men working on a shoestring in a village where clean water is a luxury? It does sound like a miracle. Yet that couldn’t be further from the truth…

And that is exactly the point that Gawande makes continually over the course of his book. That these ‘miracles’ are anything but. Instead, they are very conscious and concerted efforts to do everything better than it’s been done before. Like the jar so full of sand that you assume nothing else could fit…until you pour in water. Better explores the medical personalities who refuse to accept that certain techniques, technologies or curatives have been ‘maxed out.’ It highlights those who would seek to find improvement where others haven’t and in doing so simultaneously awes and inspires a reader. Not to mention opening their eyes to a fascinating set of circumstances and medical achievement…

Hopefully I’ll never get to personally test Gawande’s surgical skills, but I’m duly impressed by his writing. I has a very ‘BBC print’ feel to it. Not sterile, but clean and elegant. There’s passion there, but it’s subdued and set nicely into the facts. He lets situations speak for themselves. If you’ve ever heard a BBC 2 Radio news program, you’ll know exactly the tone I'm describing… In it’s restraint the emotion of the writing tends to be more poignant as the importance inherent to some of these procedures and goals becomes more pronounced, a result of their excellent presentation. Moving beyond medical procedures, he also covers issues ranging from malpractice to patient privacy to the very fascinating conundrum that is the role of doctors in state executions. Gawande tackles these big questions with depth, reserve and candor. It’s writing at its finest..

More impressive is the author's personal stake in the dilemmas he presents. He’s a doctor himself. As a practicing surgeon, it’s his responsibility to take these issues to heart more than anyone. He gives thoughtful consideration to things like what a doctor owes society and what in turn society owes a doctor. Broaching the subject of money is a brave move, but a fair one and it’s refreshing to hear someone discuss it with the balance he does.

For my money, you'd be hard pressed to find a more precise, yet passionate look at these subjects in a mainstream bookstore. The scope of the book is wide enough to maintain a diversity of interests, yet still allow a discrete and focused concentration on the details. Coupled this breadth with a superb writing style it becomes difficult to find a better work of non-fiction at any bookstore.

Born Standing Up - Steve Martin

In paperback from Amazon.com - $10.20

Buy it if: You’re in the mood for an elegantly written memoir with a more-than-decent self-exploration slant

Don’t buy it if: You want to find out whether working with Martin Short gets annoying

Perhaps the oddest thing about reading an autobiography is the sense that you’re reading an unfinished story. Picking up a book like Steve Martin’s Born Standing Up makes me wary. They always remind me of Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Greatest Hits’ or Howard Stern’s Private Parts, two works that seem to offer very good career retrospectives – except that Bruce and Howard each had major career milestones after their respective releases! ‘Greatest Hits’ is missing selections from the six studio albums that have followed hence and Stern hasn’t touched pen to paper since his move to satellite radio.

Steve Martin, no literary slouch, avoids these shortcomings by taking a cue from the Eagles, who cleverly labeled a multi-platinum monster ‘Their Greatest Hits 1971 – 1975.’ It covers a specified era, no more, no less. And it’s a much fairer retrospective assessment as a result.
Born Standing Up takes the same approach. Martin’s film career is mentioned in passing, but rarely with elaboration. Instead, he chooses to focus on the trajectory that led him to and through his surprisingly short and massively successful career in stand up comedy. From perfecting sleight-of-hand behind the counter of a Disneyland magic shop to sold out nights at the Nassau Coliseum, it’s a uniquely American story that is as tied to its era as it is the country.

These days celebrity memoirs seem to come out on a daily basis, as often driven by current events as they are a desire to understand the motivations and intricacies of their subjects. Lost of ton of weight? Write a memoir. (I’m talking to you Valerie Bertinelli) Achieve an athletic feat? Write a memoir. (Michael Phelps released his first tome after the 2004 Olympics) So it’s nice to see that Steve Martin appreciates the perspective one gains by letting some time elapse - in his case, over two decades’ worth. It lends the book a sense of considered analysis and the reading is well-served by his own patience.

And while it’s not to say that there aren’t funny bits in the writing – there are, and the humor is decidedly dry and Martin-esque when present – please don’t mistake this for a Seinlangugae-like collection of stand-up style pieces converted for the written page. Instead, what you get is a concise and quick-paced look at the motivations and tribulations of a hugely successful comedian, delivered with the objectivity a distantanced biographer might bring to such a project, but tempered with the unique first person perspective that only an autobiography can have… It’s really a wonderful combination that makes the style of the writing at least as compelling as the its subject.

Martin is psychologically experimenting on himself successfully and is very deliberate with attempts to neither sugar-coat his screw-ups nor downplay his successes. It’s a rare case of perspective that really shows a man giving a portion of his life candid consideration. While it’s very tempting to complain about the huge gaps where his personal life should be, we have to assume that these omissions were very intentional, and it only lends more validity to the subject matter he does tackle.

A fascinating narrative that delivers precisely because of its limited scope, Born Standing Up is a fast read that offers a rare analytical and warm take on the what can be a very confusing subject: oneself.

One L - Scott Turow and Ahead of the Curve - Phillip Broughton

One L - Scott Turow
Non-Fiction
Paperback from Amazon - $11.16

Ahead of the Curve - Phillip Broughton
Non-Fiction
Hardcover from Amazon - $5.99!! (It's on sale right now!)

Buy them if: You want a travelogue-style look at the upper echelon graduate education

Don’t buy them if: You’re on the fence about attending business or law school and want some reassurance…

It’s a Hah-vahd two-fer!

It’s quite a testament to both the institution and students that both One L author Scott Turow and Ahead of the Curve author Phillip Broughton can publish these two books over 30 years apart, detailing experiences at two different Harvard graduate schools, and sound so remarkably like each other. The similarities that crop up between a law student in the mid-70’s and a business student midway through the first decade of the 21st century really hammer home this point - 'The more things change, the more they stay the same.' And while that phrase often has a negative connotation, I would say that when it comes to maintaining a tradition of academic excellence, maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world.

Of course, ‘academic excellence’ is really just a supposition, a reputation gained over the years and firmly attached to the Harvard name. Naturally, both authors are aware of this – and fully admit to reputation playing a significant part in their choice of school – but it’s their ability to look beyond the name and demonstrate what really lies at the core of this learning environment, good and bad, that make both One L and Ahead of the Curve such interesting pieces.

One L is the story of Turow’s first year at Harvard Law, one of the most rigorous academic years to be found in the world, while Ahead of the Curve details Broughton’s two years at the same institution’s MBA program. (Though his first year is given much more emphasis than his second.) Each relates their experience over the course of the books through anecdotes and observation, leaving the reader with a picture that, while perhaps technically incomplete and lacking in breadth of experience, is rich with the depth that can only come from personal experience.

Ironically, the books both have the feel of a travelogue. I say ‘ironically’ because each makes it a point to demonstrate how much time students at these schools spend staying in one place. But despite existing solely inside the ‘Harvard bubble,’ there is a journey here and each man sets off as you would for any other trip, with minimal equipment, a bit of family and plenty of trepidation.

For those who find joy in the details, neither book will disappoint. Fortunately, neither writer makes the mistake of providing lofty overviews of the schools. If that’s what you want, Harvard certainly publishes prospective student guides. What Turow and Burroughs DO give us is a worm’s eye view of the things you won’t get from a school catalog. The odd tradition of ‘Skydecks’ in the business school, where those from the back tiers of the classroom give out satirical awards to fellow classmates. Or perhaps the practice of hissing those in class who breach the social contract at Harvard Law? Strange, but true. The inclusions of these idiosyncrasies are vivid touches that demonstrate the oddities that emerge in even the most prestigious academic settings. I’m still not sure if these strange occurrences make the ivory tower that is Harvard more or less approachable, but as a reader, they bring about more fascination than I would have ever suspected. It’s enough to make me urgently curious about what weird stuff is hidden behind the walls of the Wharton School of Business or in the seminars of Georgetown Law.

Like all stressed out students the authors experience numerous ups and downs, and each is thrifty enough with their words to provide us with just enough context to understand them. We’re not made to sit through much academic jargon, only given enough to pique a curiosity in the subject at hand and understand the reasons behind behaviors and emotions. Indeed, though each author admits to changing names and combining personalities and incidents, the other characters are crucial to the stories being told here. The broad and diverse canvas of personalities at Harvard provides heroes, villains, sinners and saints. They’re enjoyable, human and even a little surprising.

I do believe there’s a natural, human inclination to look back with rosy hindsight at the difficulties we encounter. After all, it’s so much easier to downgrade a challenge upon completion. Or to recall negativity but blow it off as overwrought and unnecessary with a more distant perspective. That Burroughs and Murow avoid this is perhaps the single greatest strength of these books. Someone cavalierly explaining away a mental beat down as severe as Harvard grad school is misleading at best, boring at worst. Yet both authors write with a present feel that is fantastic and riveting. At times Murow quotes directly from the journal he kept in school and the desperation, fear and pessimism contained in these passages borders on disturbing. And THAT’s what keeps you coming back. It’s not quite the same as slowing for a car-wreck, but it’s damn close. For those who can’t decide if business or law school is for you, proceed through these sections of text with caution…

Like a topical ointment, results may vary amongst individuals, but I personally think the juxtaposition of each author’s unique experience within the framework of a set curriculum makes for captivating reading. Thankfully, each writer possesses skill with the written word and the text moves efficiently, at an ‘interest-maintaining’ pace... (Murow has gone on to author best-selling novels since his stint at HLS, and Burroughs came from a journalism background before pursuing his business education. Yeah, they know what they’re doing when it comes to arranging words...) Neither entered the schools intending to find book fodder, but found their experiences interesting enough to warrant these publications. I can’t help but wonder how many other stories belong to each of their classmates, but I am grateful that these two had both the skill and inclination to share theirs… Without being preachy, melodramatic or even egocentric, these books have captured the spirit, humour and downright terror of a Harvard graduate education. Would I want to go? Maybe, maybe not…but they’ve given me an awful lot to think about. And isn’t that exactly what schools and books are for?

Raising the Bar – Gary Erickson (founder of Clif Bar)

Non-fiction
Paperback from Amazon.com – $13.57

Buy it if: You love inspirational posters

Don’t buy it if: You’re expecting a detailed and thorough business profile

I’m a huge sucker for business profiles…the more obscure the better. (In fact, expect an upcoming review of the fascinating The Box, history of the modern shipping container. Yes…I’m serious.) So, the idea of a business profile - written by the founder! - of a product I use and enjoy? And it comes recommended to me by a few different people? Sounds like win-win-win-win to me!

I’m sorry to say Raising the Bar just didn’t do it for me. I’m more disappointed than anything, because I like the Clif Bar company. I like the ethos, I like its ‘green’ aspirations, and I like its support of local sports. From the sound of it, Gary Erickson and I would probably get along famously. Unfortunately the telling of the Clif Bar story falls short, which is sad because I have no doubt that there is a great story in there somewhere... It just didn’t get told this time around.

Is it a business profile? Is it a biography? Self-help? It definitely hits on all of these things. The main problem is that it never seems to go beyond skin deep. A lot of the platitudes are repeated throughout the book without much being added in the way of substance. It’s unfortunate because we’re talking about a company that does well over $60 million of a business a year and has grown to that size without ever ceasing to be privately-held. Really, the Clif Bar company is an amazing success story, succeeding in a way that even the almighty Powerbar (now owned by Nestle) hasn’t.

One thing the book does have going for it is ease of use. It doesn’t bog down in business stats or lists of crucial employees. It’s a very light, easy read and relentlessly positive. Raising the Bar has a spirit of inspiration and there’s no doubt many companies would love to emulate Clif's method of finding success while staying true to their ideals…

From a corporate viewpoint Mr. Erickson is an amazing talent. And as a former bicycle racer/mountain climber/world trekker, Gary does tell a few decent stories. Sadly, these tales are usually a means for providing a half-baked, fairly obvious business analogy that almost always has to do with taking the path less traveled or keeping profits down and charity up. As a person, I’d aspire to be a lot like him. I would love to emulate the success he’s had while staying true to his ideals…but I hope I never manage to string together so many words without ever actually saying something original.

Because talent in business doesn’t always correlate with writing ability this book leaves me wanting for so much more. Specifics about the way Clif moved their market from Northern California to the rest of the world… Details on the work/life balance Clif allows its employees to maintain… Cocktail and Weenie Party? He mentions it at least three times, but never offers more than a name. It sound great! I want to come! But what the hell is it?!

The whole endeavor feels like a feature-length movie trailer. I spent 200+ plus pages hoping there would be more details to accompany the points he touches on in the first chapter, but was instead rewarded with admonitions to 'stay true to myself' and 'take country lanes instead of highways.' It’s all good and decent advice, but without any real examples or methods for applying such broad generalities to the world, it’s no more useful than Google’s ubiquitous ‘Don’t Be Evil.’ (Except many of the books on Google tell exactly HOW they strive not to be evil. And to expand their brand. And to grow as a business without overextending themselves…)

Though it sounds harsh, Raising the Bar reads an awful lot like some of my 18th Century English Literature papers: Lots of nice sounding phrases and agreed upon sentiments, but very little that’s original or striking. My goal during those out-of-time-too-many-papers-

due late college nights was to put forth something that was plain-vanilla, below-the-radar decent. It’s not the worst sin for an English major… Unfortunately, Erickson, who espouses chance taking and has built a wonderful business around it, doesn’t pull off writing with the same verve he brings to nutrition bars. And you know what? I’m glad. Halfway through a 75-mile bike ride, I’m much more likely to care that those bars taste good than I am about his writing style. I just think a company like Clif Bar deserves a better rendition of how it came to be. There’s a truly amazing story in there, I’m sure of it. But it has yet to be written.

The Perfect Mile - Neil Bascomb

Non-Fiction
Paperback from Amazon.com - $10.17


Buy it if: You loved 'Seabiscuit.'

Don’t buy it if: You’re hoping for a surprise ending. Roger Bannister is still the first man to run a mile in less than four minutes…

The crux of most true-life sports stories is their foregone conclusion. Midway through 'Faithful' you’re not going to discover the Red Sox actually lost the ’04 series, nor is there much doubt about Jim Braddock’s big fight in 'Cinderella Man.' No. The key with these types of sports stories is to portray the moments leading up to these compelling moments…well, compellingly. The Perfect Mile highlights the excitement and uncertainty that preceded Roger Bannister’s historic run remarkably.

Paced like a cinematic drama, building to the running of the world’s first sub-4:00 mile, somehow Bascomb imbues the writing the same sense of anticipation that track and field enthusiasts must have felt following these events contemporarily. He does it so well that I spent whole passages wondering if I’d gotten my history right. Bannister did do it, didn’t he? Maybe Wes Santee somehow defies his bad luck to pip the record in the nick of time. Perhaps John Landy set the mark first and I just didn’t know it?

Obviously Bannister did it. His is a name synonymous with the act decades later. And unfortunately the other two are mere footnotes unknown to most of the general public. But the story of these three men – divergent in continent, profession and education - and their shared goal is utterly fascinating. That a book with a known ending can keep a reader’s attention so rapt says volumes about both the inherent drama of the record chase and the author’s skill at portraying it.

Neil Bascomb is exceptionally good at setting the context… but it certainly doesn’t hurt that the subjects fit wonderful, story-character archetypes. Roger Bannister as the scholar-athlete, fitting his training around a med school schedule. John Landy as the brutal pro, dedicating all towards his goal. And Wes Santee, the Native American military man with a heart of gold. He’s like a real-life Rocky Balboa…but way faster.

For those not well-versed in running’s history you’ll be amazed that three men from three different corners of the world could all approach this ‘impossible’ barrier in such a similar time frame. Though track and field enthusiasts will undoubtedly be more aware of the facts and players, the drama as told here is unique. The only impossibility in these pages is not finding yourself completely caught up in this drive to 3:59.

History provided the men and the writer paints the scenes, with plenty of insight offered into the now-passed era of amateurism and what that meant to those who would compete at the highest level. These men didn’t get bonuses and endorsements, and they’re all the more compelling for it. Fortunately, Bascomb does an excellent job in conveying the personality of each man and makes you glad there’s such a well-written book on the subject. Surely there are many poorly told versions of this story…but this certainly isn’t one of them…

Don’t Hassle the Hoff - David Hasselhoff

Hardcover (!) at Amazon.com - $4.99!
Non-fiction…Sort of.

Buy it if: Look, there’s no good reason to buy this book, you just have to do it

Don’t buy it if: I’m not even going to open the floodgates here…

Yes, I’m serious. You have to read this book. I know what you’re thinking: Why on earth would I waste my precious time reading the autobiography of this cheesy, egocentric, barely talented, 80s has-been wannabe? And there you go. You’ve just answered your own question.

David Hasselhoff is all of those things and more. And I love David Hasselhoff. I can say this with tongue nowhere in the vicinity of my cheek: Michael Knight was my hero growing up. (Granted, K.I.T.T. was my much bigger hero, but Michael had to be there, too. Kind of.) I spent nights pining after ‘Turbo Boosts’ and still have my Knight Rider slumber bag. The black lycra pop star? Portly Baywatch lifeguard? These are David Hasselhoffs that I never really ‘got.’ But that doesn’t diminish my love for the man. You have to admit that – love him or hate him – the guy is a ubiquitous American icon. (And possibly the real reason the terrorists hate us…)

But what makes Don’t Hassle the Hoff so splendid, so wonderfully magnificent, is Hasselhoff’s own ability to lose all perspective when considering the subject of himself. For all the many faults of this book, there are few more shining examples of absolute sincerity in literature. There can be no doubt that the man believes every single self-scribed word, and that makes the ridiculous and outlandish all the more entertaining. It’s like a magician being convinced he’s really sawed the woman in half…despite the audience being able to clearly see her legs curled up behind a mirror.

Nothing illustrates this better than my favorite passage of the book, when he blames ‘wind sheer’ for a motorcycle accident. I am going to quote the ‘Hoff as my own words simply cannot do this supposition justice: “The doctor who treated me had been at LAX picking up his parents when landings had been suspended owing to a wind sheer, a very severe wind gust. The wind had hit LAX at 4:30 p.m. and it had hit the bike at 4:31 p.m.” Stunning. The man actually tracked the dastardly breeze that put his life in peril. K.I.T.T. couldn’t have done it better…

Of course, apart from the fantastic (please consider the ‘fantasy’ derivation of the word) writing style, you will be astounded at the sheer fame and success this guy has somehow accrued. Unbelievably, he’s failed upwards into a pop singing career, roles on Broadway, parts in movies and the lead on the world’s most syndicated show. He’s quite literally made every weakness an asset and… Well, I can’t help myself…he’s just downright likeable. It’s true. Despite the cheese and aw-shucks stories, you get the feeling he’s a good guy and there’s something terrifyingly heartwarming about this.

Of course, his candor with his own perceived talent also carries over into his addictions and the mistakes he’s made. It’s nice to see that he can turn his bright light onto his demons as well as his accomplishments. Granted, the former gets a short shrift when compared to the latter, but he’s trying. At least he can’t be accused of trying to capitalize on his own tabloid fodder. He seems rightfully embarrassed by his own actions, which is a welcome relief from celebrity celebrations of their own weaknesses.

I have to tell you, at a price higher than $5, I really couldn’t recommend this with a straight face, but it’s less than a Venti Mocha and the joy will last so much longer than that Starbucks concoction. It’s slickly packaged, with a full-sized color portrait of the man himself on the back cover, smirking over dark sunglasses and a complete (why?!) filmography, discography and TV episode listing included as an appendix.

You’re going to love it, which is going to force you to question your own sanity, but you won’t be able to help yourself. Just beware, once you get drawn into the ‘Hoff’s web the biggest dilemma facing you will be how to hide the cover when reading it in public…

The Wishbones - Tom Perotta

Softcover from Amazon.com - $4.99
Fiction

Buy it if: You want a solid story with a movie’s pace

Don’t buy it if: You think Clear and Present Danger is the pinnacle of fiction

At first glance The Wishbones feels like a loosely-based treatment for The Wedding Singer. Dave is a never-made-it guitarist making ends in meet in a wedding band and constantly questioning the one good and stable thing in his life: a stagnating relationship with his pseudo-fiance, Julie. Among his growing list of concerns: a romantic interest in a young bridesmaid, nagging parents and his band, The Wishbones, suffering from a growing delusion that they’re still going to make it big… Dave’s got little problems that feel huge and the book feels primed for 90 minutes of Hollywood-style Rom-Com.

To be fair, Tom Perotta’s style (and length) of novel does lend itself neatly to the screenplay construct. One need only look as far as Election and Little Children, both of which were born from Perotta books, for proof. But despite its familiar premise, The Wishbones’ veers off in a new direction early on. The plot stands on its own and the cadence of the storytelling moves things along at a brisk pace. Characters like outgoing bridesmaid Gretchen and rival bandleader ‘Rockin’ Randy’ gain depth without overt minutia that, quite frankly, would just hinder the flow.

After reading this novel and his others, it’s tempting to pigeonhole Perotta. He always seems to be writing about conflicted men (and occasionally women) residing in dark and anonymous suburbs. But he does it with an upbeat style streaked with huge doses of humor. It’s practically ‘jaunty.’ Citing a common theme between books, however, misses the point: We are a world of conflicted people. It’s because of this that Perotta’s characters feel so familiar. Like us, they get stressed out over both life’s mundane choices and ‘big decisions.’ You gotta respect the common perspective: Whether it’s a marriage or simply getting to work on time…we’re worried about fucking up.

And the characters make the story work. They’re not larger than life and it’s hard to discern heroes from villains, right from wrong. They’re believable because they’re so us. I’ve always disliked Tom Clancy-style protagonists, those white-knight ubermen. Jack Ryan is the paragon of perfection. And while it makes for a fun read, it’s also utterly unrealistic.

But Dave makes mistakes, he does dumb stuff that he usually regrets. He’s unsure of himself, a bit down on his life and generally…well, normal. I know, it doesn’t sound like it would make for compelling reading, but I think you’ll soon find that this normalcy is exactly what draws you in. Can I relate? Not to the specific situations. But to the feelings, uncertainties, and annoyances of life? It’s a challenge to NOT see a part of yourself in erstwhile axe-slinger Dave or frustrated beau Julie. They’re like novel-dwelling horoscopes, always with a characteristic directly applicable to your own life, positive or negative. Probably both, but rarely neither.

Even better, Perotta - for an author who populates his books with such wonderful and accessible characters – is writing really great stories. There is a flow to the books. Things are happening. People are going places. There are going to be actions and conclusions. I’m so happy for Dave, Julie and all the others (including us!) that they’re not just standing around considering everything. They’re talking, they’re doing, they’re sleeping with each other and lying… They’re living. Consider a lot of fiction for a while and you’ll realize there’s often a lot less going on than you originally thought… Fortunately, The Wishbones has some action, it’s moving through time just like the rest of us.

This book's author, as he does in the equally recommended Election, Joe College, and Little Children, reminds me of my father, a carpenter. Dad turns ordinary planks of wood into functional objects, things we need and use everyday. But there’s always a delicate ornamentation, a little bit of elegance that takes an extra moment to appreciate and sets his work apart from the more common tables and chairs of this world. Perotta adds these little details in small, deft character traits that an author like Clancy, with reams of paper bound into his titles, simply can’t apply with brute force methods. He’s a craftsman with words that – while they may appear simple at first – age into a very satisfying elegance.

A Romance on Three Legs – Katie Hafner

Paperback available in April, 2009 at $10.88, Hardcover - $16.49
Non-Fiction

Buy it if: You want a peek at the men and machines behind the concert pianist's curtain

Don’t buy it if: You’re looking for a biography of Glenn Gould

The relationship between artist and instrument can be a very ethereal thing. On the one hand, Jimmy Page pulled sounds out of his cheap-o Danelectro guitar nightly that I couldn’t get out of a ’57 Les Paul…but on the other, a master of their craft should have an instrument worthy of their performance. For Glenn Gould – a man noted for his obsessions and idiosyncrasies – finding his soulmate in a piano was no easy task. Katie Hafner’s A Romance on Three Legs is the story of this search and the fascinatingly unique world in which it was conducted.

So much has been written about Glenn Gould already that if you’re looking for details of his oddities you should probably travel elsewhere. The genius-touched-by-madness theme is a central one that plays well on Main Street, but this book explores the world of Steinway piano building and dealing, piano technician schools for the blind, and an industry bending over backwards to cater to the whims of a select few high-end concert pianists. And while focusing on Gould and his favorite Steinway gives the book its audience, it’s these other storylines – being woven in and out of the quest – that make for such captivating reading. In the end, the famous pianist is only one of a host of fascinating ‘characters’ that include Verne Edquist, his nearly blind personal tuner, the Steinway Piano company and even Eaton’s, the Toronto department store where Gould preferred to record.

This is a narrative for the hopeless romantic, a sucker for a love story. In essence, that’s the story being told – the tale of a man and his greatest relationship. It just happens to be with an 88-keyed concert grand. How they came to be together, the music they made, the trips they took… Change ‘piano’ to ‘woman’ and you might expect to see Jane Austen’s name on the cover.

Every ‘concert level’ grand piano made by Steinway is given a unique number, a designation indicating both its uniqueness and quality. Hafner tracks the movements of various pianos against the players who performed on them, showing how Gould and his not-yet-beloved “CD 318” were often ships passing in the night, two personalities that brush up against each other at a party before meeting again under different circumstances. Despite sounding impossibly anthropomorphic, it’s a very effective way to demonstrate the emotional connection that grows between musician and favored instrument. When pianist and piano finally do connect, it’s the prelude to a romance (the title fits perfectly) that is to experience the ups and downs, the joys and tragedies, that make for moving drama, instead of dry documentation.

At a tight 232 pages, this book succeeds by only referencing Glenn Gould’s famed weirdness as a way to put events into context. The author’s eyes rarely come off the paradoxical prize – that one of the world’s most famous pianists simply can’t be satisfied by perhaps the world’s most famous piano manufacturer. And instead of filling pages with well-known facts and rumors about Gould, she peppers the book with details of the piano industry that I – a known lover of obscure trivia – found simply fascinating. Steinway pianos at the time had no set plans?! Apparently the carved wooden bodies were simply assembled from memory, with older craftsmen educating younger generations along the way… Unbelievable. Gould’s innovative use of multi-track splicing, the decades old ‘pygmy’ chair – missing a seat and held together by tape – that was the only piece of furniture upon which Gould would consent to perform... This kind of knowledge dovetails in perfectly and gives the book its true dimension.

The fascinating world of famous pianists and the instruments that provided their voices is portrayed vividly in the book, with an elegance that draws all the details together and paints a final scene that is truly enlightening without being at all cumbersome. It’s like being allowed to eavesdrop on conversations that happened 50 years ago and hear notes that have long since faded. As I’ve come to expect from the greatest concerts, I was a little sad it had to end, but well satisfied by the experience.

Red, White and Drunk All Over – Natalie Maclean

Non-Fiction
Paperback from Amazon.com - $3.99!!

Buy it if: You have a casual interest in wine but not enough to pore over the Wine Advocate or learn French.

Don’t buy it if: You’re either an intense oenophile or don’t care at all about the difference between Chardonnay and Syrah

There are hundreds of wine ‘How-To’ books lining the shelves of your local Barnes and Noble and filling the pages of Amazon.com. They range from massive ‘wine bible’ catalogs to oenophile-catering niche titles that tell tales of obscure chateaus and famous bottles of dusty Petrus that you’ll never get to try anyway… But Natalie Maclean somehow manages to bridge these two worlds with an excitement, enthusiasm and depth that is neither patronizing of those with some background on the subject, nor over-reaching for the casual drinker with a minor interest in fermented grape juice. In short, it’s the perfect book for those with a passing interest in wine that really don’t want to dedicate hours (and dollars) towards tastings, trips to out-of-the-way shops and hundreds upon hundreds of wine reviews. If you want to get excited about wine without feeling intimidated, she nails it.

Despite coming in at just a bit over 300 pages, the book moves quickly. Educational sections flow into travelogues detailing her visits with the vibrant characters that populate the wine world – wine sellers, sommeliers and wine makers to name a few. And each trip is elegantly used to explore some other aspect of wine, so that by the end the journey she's left you both excited and educated. It’s a very ‘learn by doing’ approach that’s the vinous equivalent of Apex Technical Institute, the ubiquitous DeVry knockoff that gives you a different tool at the completion of each course, leaving you with some basic equipment to complement the degree. Not only does Maclean make wine intriguing, she gives you a vocabulary and history that makes further personal exploration a much less daunting prospect.

Even better, Natalie isn’t trying to be objective. She has opinions and encourages the reader to have them, too. She makes it personal in the best kind of way. While much snootier wine-writing focuses on the tasting and tasting only, she discusses the elephant in the wine cellar that most ‘serious’ wine writers seem to avoid: It’ll get you buzzed – flat-out drunk if you want - and it’s OK to enjoy that aspect of wine drinking as well. One can’t help but get the feeling that if your ideal drinking experience is getting quietly soused with a bottle of Yellow Tail Merlot while watching ‘The Bachelor’ on TV she’ be completely supportive – provided you have a good reason for your choice. And if you don’t, it’s time to give her a read, as you might have a good deal of fun finding a better beverage to accompany your viewing experience.

Make no mistake, Natalie Maclean is very well-respected wine critic and offers her own Robert Parker-esque newsletter for public consumption. (Nataliemaclean.com) But her welcoming writing style and approachable explanations give you the sense that she’s on your side, which isn’t something you get from a lot of food writers. And there’s a story, that makes my day every time.

This is easily one of the best books I read in 2008. To borrow from the wine review style: I’d give it a 93/100 with notes of ease and intrigue that aren’t masked by over-metaphored phrasing. Light at first taste before gaining significant depth. The only thing missing is a longer finish.