Re-covered

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler has been one of my favorite books for decades.

And today I saw its redesigned book cover created by a fellow named Matt Roeser who does that sort of thing. After reading a book, he designs a new cover for it.*

And the cover for this book is so perfect it makes me want to re-read it. Immediately.

Which, I gotta tell you, ain't gonna happen. I just received a mini-flood of books, and they're due in 2 weeks.

Must drop everything and READ.

The pressure. It's almost too much sometimes.



*Thanks to Books on the Nightstand for talking about this website! And thanks to my dear friend for telling me about Books on the Nightstand. (It's an avalanche of gratitude... watch out.)

Hellish heavens

Hell Above Earth: The Incredible True Story of an American WWII Bomber Commander and the Copilot Ordered to Kill Him by Stephen Frater

OK, this story is nothing short of amazing. And the fact that it’s true is just flipping me out.

Here’s the deal: #2 Nazi Hermann Goring’s nephew was an American B-17 pilot. The young fellow was named Werner Goering, and he was born in the States to parents who’d emigrated from Germany shortly before his birth. (And the dude was a Mormon, which I think is also a little bit unexpected.)

So… the U.S. government was a little bit weirded out about what would happen if:

- Young Werner’s plane went down and he got captured by the Nazis, thus creating a huge p.r. coup for the bad guys, or

- Young Werner decided to join his uncle Hermann’s cause, mid-war, in his highly valuable B-17.

So the government found a guy who’d agree to shoot Werner if either thing were to happen. And this guy—Jack Rencher—became Werner’s best friend.

Holy crap. That’s all I’m saying.

So that whole story is downright unbelievable (except it’s true).

(photo credit: Library of Congress Prints & Photographs)

And then add to the mix the B-17 lore the author tosses in for good measure.

At the EAA Museum in Oshkosh, there’s a B-17 you can walk through (actually: crouch through) and I can tell you, those are some seriously tight quarters. Not only that, but they were flying at 30,000 feet, and it was hella cold up there. And then they’d get shot at, and lots of them went down in flames. Not great.

Those were some tough fellas.

So the book doesn’t stay on course, because the author deviates plenty to tell all kinds of great B-17 stories. And for me, that really worked. But if you’re wanting just the narrative of Werner and Jack and the rest of the crew, you just might frustrated by the other tales that accompany their strange story.

But if you’ve got the aviation bug, you’ll just marvel at the ways people can survive (and the valiant way others died to save their buddies).

Of course, in the end, we learn that some of the story was indeed too good to be true.

But still. I’m stunned by this book.

(If this sounds intriguing, you can cruise on over to Macmillan, where there's an excerpt available.)

That’s one “John” (aka “Don’t call me John-John”)

Fairy Tale Interrupted: A Memoir of Life, Love, and Loss by Rosemarie Terenzio

I’m sufficiently shameless that I’m not embarrassed for you to know I read this book and loved it.

(photo credit: John F. Kennedy Presidential Library & Museum)

The Kennedy obsession, yes, includes The Children.

So a book by JFK Jr’s assistant was irresistible. Rosemarie Terenzio worked for John Kennedy, Jr., for 5 years, and she wasn’t afraid to mouth off to him. That’s kind of awesome, you know?

But it’s also clear that she adored him. (Not in that way. She also was a good friend of his wife Carolyn.)

She doesn’t completely sugarcoat his persona, though. Some of the stories show him acting entitled, short-tempered, and testy. So, yeah, the guy was human.

There are also some really nice things about him, though: He said some kind and wise things to her when she went through difficult times. And he lent her his house in Hyannis for her annual vacation. (And Provi, who had been Jacqueline Kennedy’s personal assistant, was there at the house! Making daiquiris! Seriously, how crazy is that?)

The thing I didn’t expect—and was happily surprised by—is that Rosemarie’s own story is interesting in itself. She describes her surprise at being a girl from the Bronx who somehow ended up working for one of the world’s most recognizable men—and the challenges (and perks) that involved. And she writes about the depression she experienced after Kennedy’s death, when her job ended and she felt aimless. Pretty horrible stuff.

I read this book immediately after finishing Concierge Confidential, which was a nice pairing. Both, books about people serving the rich and privileged.

Only with this book, there’s also a side of George, one of the best magazines ever. Doggone it that it folded.

A well-told story of a really unusual work life. 

500 and counting

Hmmmm.

Yesterday's peevish mini-rant was my 500th post.

Who'd've thunk?


And this gorgeous piece of prose... This is number 501.

What's this world coming to?

Someone (that would be me) is in a mood. 

Here goes... 

One might think this here reader would be gobbling up any new Kennedy book that makes its way onto the shelves of libraries and bookstores. 

Right?

Right.     [sage nodding of head]

But here's one book I ain't going anywhere near:

Killing Kennedy: The End of Camelot by Bill O'Reilly and Martin Dugard

Seriously. Could that title be in Any.Poorer.Taste?

Also: Bill O'Reilly. [gnashing of teeth commences]

Sometimes a thing is so gol-durn awful it's funny. This actually isn't one of those instances. 

This is a case of: Seriously. Seriously!

In other crankiness news...   (aren't you just waiting with bated breath?)

My Shelfari account decided not to let me log in anymore recently, so thank goodness I exported my list of 1343 books last year (especially since, in a frenzy of decluttering a while back, I recycled my old written lists of books I'd read). 

Of course, I'll have to input most of my books from last year and all of my books from this year, but that I can do. 

Anyway, I'm cranky yet grateful about this situation. (Guess who'll be backing up her Shelfari account on a monthly basis from now on?) 

And while we're talking news of the vexing, I'll throw in this little gem:

Sometimes my fridge moans like a wailing banshee. 

It's a little bit scary when it gets going. 

It's doing its thing right now, and if I were more of a go-getter, I'd tape it so y'all could hear it and save that sound file for Halloween purposes. 

That's about it for here for now. 

Yours in crankiness, 

UR

Serving others*

Concierge Confidential: The Gloves Come Off—and the Secrets Come Out: Tales from the Man Who Serves Millionaires, Moguls, and Madmen by Michael Fazio with Michael Malice

Totally fascinating brain candy.

Here’s the stuff you can learn from this book: People actually hire other people to engineer their fancy date nights. And they expect them to hire private helicopters at a moment’s notice.

I’m inclined to ask: Who are these people?!

Seriously.

To this small-town Midwesterner, the idea of a concierge is quite strange. So reading this book was like getting a glimpse into another culture.

The author includes lots of tips for how to get a table at the hottest restaurants, how to get hard-to-snag tickets, etc. (All of which was completely useless to me. Nonetheless, it was delightful to read about all the machinations I am able to avoid since I don’t want to go to the hottest restaurant in New York.)

Fazio tells all kinds of outrageous stories about the demands and expectations of hotel guests, and the lengths to which a concierge will go to meet those demands.

One of the dirty little secrets is that the concierge often gets a kickback on the services he arranges, so there’s a serious incentive to setting things up well for the guest. But heck, if the guest is willing to pay the asking price, and the concierge has gone to hell and back to arrange things for the guest, then what’s the problem, right?

Still.

I’m strangely relieved I’m a mid-level hotel guest whose main concern is that the room be clean, comfortable, quiet, and smoke-free. If you can throw in a view… man, I’m a happy creature then. So the expectations of the very privileged just seem so very strange to me.

But—like I said—fascinating.

*Yup. Almost like the tuxedo people on Downton Abbey...

Two for the price of one*

Restless in the Grave by Dana Stabenow

Oh, this is good, guys.

Stabenow’s brought back Liam Campbell. Yes, he of Fire and Ice and the 3 other books—the series I wish Stabenow’d return to.

Here, she does that nifty thing mystery writers do when they have more than one series—she goes and has the detectives meet. Love.It!

So here we get to see Kate Shugak on Liam Campbell’s turf, and that’s pretty interesting. I sorta kinda like it when a detective leaves her home base and treks out on her own, without her their usual posse accompanying her. It’s almost like a character study in a way.

So, yeah. Liam hires Kate to investigate the suspicious death of a pilot, because his wife Wy, also a pilot, had had words with the guy right before his death. So the townspeople are a-talkin’. So Kate and Mutt are on the case, and mayhem ensues.

Now, these days I’m feeling a wee bit distracted when reading, so some of the ins and outs of this plot didn’t really stick with me (actually, I didn’t really stick with them) because my attention was all wandering all over creation while I was trying to read. 

Nonetheless, this book does all the stuff mysteries are supposed to do, and plus it’s got two remarkable detectives in it. What’s not to like?

*No, I'm not talking about the Clinton campaign promise 

Short story collections...

...have the very best titles you'll find anywhere.

I mean, just listen to these things:

Too Much Happiness

A Blind Man Can See How Much I Love You

Shout Her Lovely Name

Here's Your Hat What's Your Hurry

Cowboys Are My Weakness

The Secret Society of Demolition Writers

This Will Be Difficult to  Explain

This Isn't the Sort of Thing That Happens to Someone Like You


It makes me really yearn to actually like short story collections more than I do.

But... instead, I just admire their titles from afar.