The Broke Ass Brigade - Don Romonov

    2012; 382 pages.  Full Title: The Broke Ass Brigade: Living With Asperger’s in the Savage Side of the American Dream.  New Author? : Yes.  Genres : Biographies & Memoirs; Vocational Humor.  Overall Rating: 6*/10.

 

    Ah yes, working in a Big-Box store.  I’ve never done it.  The closest I came was working one summer in a grocery store, stocking shelves, bagging groceries, and carrying customers’ purchases to their cars—and boats—in 115-degree heat.

 

    I had a friend who worked in one for a few years, though.  I remember him telling how, if you worked day-shift, which meant being there when the store opened, all the employees were required to gather in a circle beforehand and sing the company song.  Management picked one lucky employee to lead the singing, and he better do it enthusiastically.

 

    He laughed was he told me how all the employees would try to hide behind each other, hoping that management would just pick whoever they happened to notice first.  He said there was lots of shoving and elbowing in efforts to make oneself hard to see.

 

    The Broke Ass Brigade chronicles Don Romonov’s experiences working in a Big-Box store.  In comparison to him, my friend got off lightly.

 

What’s To Like...

     The term “Big-Box Store” applies to megastores such as Target, K-Mart, Sam’s Club, and Walmart—huge square-footage buildings wherein shoppers can find just about anything they need.  Don Romonov’s memoir, The Broke Ass Brigade actually opens with him at his previous job, a fast food one, which he quickly leaves.

 

    At the age of eighteen, Don takes what he hopes is an upward career jump: going to work at an undisclosed superstore.  He quickly becomes disillusioned and on 11/95/03 begins to keep a journal.  His entries are divided into 28 sections, and things close with his departure from the Big-Box.

 

    The writing style—in the first-person POV, of course—is fascinating blend of humor, contemplation, and absurdism.  This may be a megastore, but it caters to the dregs of society.  Bums, drunks, and nut cases abound, all of them looking for a free meal and things to swipe.  Store security is sparse and lax; and the store’s management tries to reach its impossible quotas by periodically firing half the employees and telling the remaining ones to work twice as fast and twice as hard.

 

    Don and several of his co-workers become friends after discovering they share some common interests, such as gaming and booze.  Other co-workers and regular customers are given nicknames, such as “Lil Bit”, “Janet Prime”, “Other Steve”, “King of Mullets”, “Count Chocula”, and “Obi Wan”.  That latter one becomes Don’s mentor, and trains him in the art of being a store detective.  The author frequently crosses paths with weird-acting customers; the details of their antics and the epithets with which Don dubs them are fascinating.

 

    The book’s title refers to a small clique of store employees.  The author sprinkles a fair amount of music references throughout the book.  His tastes theein are quite eclectic; I guarantee you’ll find some of your favorites mentioned.  I also learned a new acronym—FNG—I’ll let you figure that one out.  Things close with the author finally finding another job, although I don’t recall any details being given about it.  Presumably it was a step upward.

 

Ratings…
    Amazon: 3.8*/5, based on 28 ratings and 23 reviews.

    Goodreads: 2.86*/5, based on 21 ratings and 5 reviews.

 

Excerpts...

    So, upon having helped catch some shoplifters—even though it’s not my job—I want to address a few things concerning shoplifting.  Shoplifters, try better.  It’s hard to beat you down when I’m laughing so hard.  Here are a few examples:

    When trying to make counterfeit money, remember to print on both sides.  Just saying.

    Do not try to hide things you cannot feasibly hide.  A computer box does not fit in your sweatpants.

    Do not act suspicious.  Asking things like “Do those cameras work?” or “Is your security guard armed?” kind of tip me off that you’re about to wreck our sh*t.  (pg. 80)

 

    I messed with her.  I said, “Let the ruling classes tremble at a (the word “communist” goes here, but I removed it because it was too obvious) revolution.  The proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains.  They have a world to win.  Working men of all countries, unite!”

    She laughed naively, saying, “Oh, that’s an interesting quote.  Who said that?”

    I told the truth on this one.  “Karl Marx,” I said.

    She said, “Oh, I love the Marx Brothers!  The guy with the horn is hilarious!”  (pg. 139)

 

Who shoplifts at six thirty in the morning?”  (pg. 303)

    It came as no surprise that there’s a lot of cussing in The Broke Ass Brigade; I counted 28 instances in the first 10% of the book, including 10 f-bombs.  Ethnic slurs also crop up; as do references to sexual practices and parts.  Typos occur with such frequency that they become a distraction.

 

    The fact that the author suffers from Asperger’s syndrome is cited in the book’s subtitle, but I saw very little evidence of it impacting the storytelling.  Then again, I know very little about Asperger’s, save that it is a learning disability and now has a newer name.  The author mouths off to wacko-acting and/or light-fingered customers, but I doubt that can be blamed on his affliction.

 

    There’s not much storyline progression in the storyline.  Don Romonov wants out the first day of his job; and retains that aspiration until his last day there.  But hey, this is a memoir, not a novel; there wasn’t any career progression in the author’s life during this period.

    Despite the drawbacks, I enjoyed The Broke Ass Brigade.  I too had several menial jobs as a teenager—dishwasher (one job washing by hand, one job washing by machine), busboy, gas station attendant—so Don Romonov’s work woes brought back old memories.  If you had a similar low-paying, crappy job or jobs as a teen, this book might resonate with you as well.

 

    6 Stars.  One last thing.  Amazon’s audiobook version of The Broke Ass Brigade lists this an a “Satirical Literature & Fiction” book.  I certainly hope this is not a piece of fiction.

Being Ram Dass - Ram Dass

    2021; 405 pages.  New Author? : Yes.  Genres : Biographies & Memoirs; Philosophy; Meditation.  Overall Rating: 9½*/10.

 

    Back in my college days, there was a “way cool” book that all the hip students were reading.  It was titled Be Here Now, by a guy named Ram Dass.  Okay, that wasn’t his real name, his birth name was Richard Alpert, and he was a Harvard Professor of Psychology.

 

    Be Here Now was an easy book to read.  It had lots of drawings and the text was compact.  In a nutshell, it urged the target audience, Westerners, to travel to India, to practice Meditation, and to lose your sense of attachment to Self.

 

    Being Ram Dass is a memoir of that Self named Ram Dass, nee Richard Alpert.

 

What’s To Like...

    After a Foreword and an Introduction, both of which are worth reading, Being Ram Dass is divided into six sections, namely:

Part 1: Learning and Unlearning (14 chapters)

     Growing up, Academics, Psychedelics

Part 2: Pilgrim of the Heart (8 chapters)

    Travels to India; Meditations and Pure Love

Part 3: Service Center (6 chapters)

    Seeing God in Others

Part 4: The Wheel Turns (5 chapters)

    Growing Older

Part 5: Ocean View (3 chapters)

    Final Thoughts

The Next Chapter: Ram Dass Here/Not Here (6 pages)

    An Epilogue by a Friend

 

    Richard Alpert/Ram Dass’s life is presented chronologically—he grew up in a well-to-do family, attended Tufts University, got a PhD in Psychology, and became a professor at Harvard.  He met Timothy Leary, got turned on to LSD, and spearheaded a Harvard-sponsored research project to see if taking psychedelics could enable convicts to turn from their criminal ways.  Which got him fired from Harvard, something that hadn’t happened since Ralph Waldo Emerson taught there in the 1800s.

 

    I loved his “warts and all” approach to writing this memoir.  Enlightened gurus are common in India, and jealousies between them sometimes arise.  A mystic’s diet is quite austere, so Ram Dass and friends would occasionally sneak into town to munch on M&Ms.  Becoming One with God does not preclude making out in the backseat of a car.  And while Love is all you need, once in a while a hit of acid or psilocybin is a fun excursion.

 

    The main message, of course, is that if you give yourself totally to an enlightened guru, he will teach you to love everyone unreservedly, render service to mankind, and become One with the Cosmos by shedding all of your earthly attachments.

 

    There is a lot of name-dropping, which is not a criticism.  A few of the celebrities who came to see, hear, talk with, and/or assist Ram Dass include: Aldous Huxley, Maynard Ferguson, Charles Mingus, Ken Kesey, Timothy Leary, Wavy Gravy, Steve Jobs, Michael Crichton, George Harrison, Jerry Rubin, John Lennon, Yoko Ono, Stokely Carmichael, and Robert Redford.  I’m in awe.

 

    Late in life, Ram Dass suffers a stroke, which leaves him unable to speak, unable to write, and wheelchair-bound.  It was touching to read how he dealt with this, and battled through depression and a lot of physical therapy to finally accept this.  For enlightened beings, Birth and Death are not starting and ending points; they are two depots in a cosmic journey propelled by Reincarnation.

 

Kewlest New Word ...

    Pellucid (adj.) : translucently clear

 

Ratings…
    Amazon: 4.8*/5, based on 1,039 ratings and 96 reviews.

    Goodreads: 4.57*/5, based on 1,747 ratings and 184 reviews.

 

Excerpts...

    Wavy Gravy helped keep things light with a pair of tacky clown glasses with Groucho Marx eyebrows.  If anyone uttered the word “serious”, also known as “the S word,” the meeting came to a complete stop while the offender donned the funny glasses.  We avoided taking ourselves too seriously, even as we addressed deep suffering.  (Wavy and his wife, Jahanara, named their son Howdy Do-Good Gravy, although as soon as he was old enough, he changed it to Jordan.)  (pg. 293)

 

    From a Hindu perspective, you are born into what you need to deal with, your karmic predicament.  If you try to push anything away, whatever it is, the reaction against it creates more attachment, just like getting pulled into it.  It’s got your mind.  It was no accident that I was born into a Jewish family, and I finally was able to appreciate its mark on me.  Only when you honor your karma fully can you begin to be free.  (pg. 330)

 

“If a pickpocket comes to see a saint, all he sees are his pockets.”  (pg. 182)

    There’s only a smattering of profanity in Being Ram Dass; just 11 instances in the whole book.  Most of it was direct quotes of others, but frankly, I was surprised there was any at all.  I didn’t note any typos.

 

    If you’re homophobic, be aware that Richard Alpert was bisexual.  He doesn’t make a big deal of this in his memoir, but he doesn’t try to hide it either.  He worries that it will hinder his quest for Enlightenment, and is blown away that his guru Maharaj-ji, accepts him as he is.

 

    The only nit I have to pick concerns the criticism Ram Dass’s Harvard colleagues had with his (and Timothy Leary’s) tests, results, and evaluations of the psychedelics-for-inmates investigation.  Ram Dass felt their criteria was too objective and scientific-oriented, and not humanistic-oriented and subjective enough.  I found their criticisms valid, but hey, I’m a scientist, so that's not surprising.

 

    For me, Being Ram Dass was a thought-provoking, fascinating memoir.  Ram Dass was born in 1931, and died in 2019, which puts him a generation older than me.  But a lot of his experiences and insights resonated, and it was interesting to read a memoir where Eastern mysticism is a central theme, yet the text never becomes preachy.  We can debate the theological validity of Ram Dass’s spiritual beliefs, but we can’t dismiss the huge positive effect they had on his life.

 

    9½ Stars.  One last thing.  At one point, late in his life, Ram Dass relates a bad trip he experienced with a hallucinogen called “toad slime”.  He records that he took “a big hit” which induced a ”brief, intense trip” where he “turned into a large black woman surrounded by beings who were children, all suffering, hungry, frightened, sick.”   Wowza!

Nobody's Girl - Virginia Roberts Giuffre

   2025; 382 pages.  New Author(s)?  : Yes.  Full Title: Nobody’s Girl: A Memoir of Surviving Abuse and Fighting for Justice.  Genres : Biographies & Memoirs; Sexual Abuse & Harassment; Non-Fiction.  Overall Rating: 10*/10.

 

    The Epstein Files have sure been in the headlines a lot lately.  There’s a lot of interest as to who partied with him, who went to his Island (aka Little Saint James), and who paid how much to be “entertained”.

 

    But little has been said about the girls in Epstein’s entourage.  Were they happy hookers or indentured servants?  Could they leave anytime they chose or would bad things happen if they failed to show up when summoned?  Were they underage or just heavily made-up to look young?

 

    I bet a lot of people would be interested in hearing about the experiences of those girls.  I bet a lot of people who hobnobbed with Jeffrey Epstein would go to great lengths to suppress any and all information about those girls’ experiences.

 

    That’s what makes Nobody’s Girl such an important book.

 

What’s To Like...

    Nobody’s Girl is the memoir of one of the key girls in Epstein’s fold, Virginia Roberts Giuffre.  The book is divided into four parts, namely:

    Part 1: Daughter  (pgs. 3-63)

    Part 2: Prisoner  (pgs. 65-106)

    Part 3: Survivor  (pgs. 147-256)

    Part 4: Warrior  (pgs. 257-367)

 

    Those section titles give a nice overview of the storyline.  Virginia’s father started molesting her when she was seven years old (Part 1).  As a 16-year-old she gets a job, first at Mar-a-Lago, then at Epstein’s as an aspiring masseuse and sex slave (Part 2).  At age 19, she travels to Thailand, meets her husband-to-be, and quits her Epstein job.  She marries, has kids, and discovers that Epstein will find her wherever she goes, and do anything to her and her family to keep her quiet (Part 3).  She fights back (Part 4), via depositions, lawsuits, interviews, and establishing help groups for others who suffered the same abuse.

 

    If you’re looking for some “great reveals” about Trump, you’ll be disappointed.  He gets scant mention, and that merely has to do with his Mar-a-Lago resort, where Virginia’s father worked as a groundskeeper.  However, there is some mention of unnamed clients such as “Billionaire #1”, “Billionaire #2”, and a “well-known Prime Minister”.  Giuffre admits she’s too scared to reveal these individuals by name, fearing retribution against her and her family., especially from one of the Billionaires.

 

    It’s not surprising that most of the sexploitation tales involve Jeffrey Epstein and the various guests that accompany him on cruises and visits to his island.  He's the chief malefactor, but for sheer depravity, Epstein’s partner, Ghislaine Maxwell, stands above all others.  Her efforts on behalf of Epstein in recruitment, training, participation, and intimidation are jaw-dropping.

 

    If I had to describe the tone of Nobody’s Girl in one word, I would choose harrowing.   Virginia Giuffre is subjected to incredible abuses from a very early age and throughout the rest of her life.  Yet if I could include a second word in my description, it would be uplifting.  There are moments of love interspersed among all the horrors, and it is extremely encouraging to learn that attitudes are changing about sexual abuse.

 

    Laws are being passed to aid the victims in obtaining justice against their abusers, and support programs are becoming available for those suffering trauma from such  abuse.  Nobody’s Girl is contributing greatly to those attitude shifts.

 

Ratings…
    Amazon: 4.7*/5, based on 6,945 ratings and 760 reviews.

    Goodreads: 4.57*/5, based on 34,116 ratings and 4,278 reviews.

 

Excerpts...

    In July 2009, Epstein was released from jail after serving only thirteen months; he was placed on house arrest for a period of another year.  It would later be revealed that for most of his jail sentence, he’d been allowed to go “on work release” to the office of a nonprofit he’d newly created called the Florida Science Foundation.  As delineated in a handwritten addendum to the nonprosecution agreement, he was permitted to visit this office up to twelve hours a day, six days a week.  He continued to molest girls there, and after he got out of jail, he dissolved the foundation.  (pg. 211)

 

    How entitled and selfish do you have to be to continue hounding and threatening the very victims you’ve hurt before?  It drove me crazy to think these people could potentially get away with silencing me for good.  When someone on Twitter speculated that the FBI might kill me “to protect the ultrarich and well connected,” I felt the need to respond.  If I died suddenly, I tweeted, no one should believe that it was an accident.

    “I am making it publicly known that in no way, shape, or form am I suicidal,” I typed.  (pg. 294)

 

“Just get the icky part over with so the good parts of life can go on.”  (pg. 95)

    The cussing in Nobody’s Girl is relatively light, considering its topic.  I counted just 14 instances in the first 20% of the book, although about 2/3 of those were f-bombs.  Needless to say, the subject material recounted numerous adult situations.  I was pleasantly surprised that the describing of these horrors never descended into lewdness.  I commend both the author and her collaborator for achieving this.

 

    My only quibble is with the memoir’s ending.  The final chapter details Virginia Giuffre’s activities in early 2025 and her immediate plans and hope for the future.  Unfortunately, she passed away on April 25, 2025, apparently by suicide.  But the reader learns of this at the very start of the book, along with some disturbing updates about Giuffre’s crumbling marriage.  I think it would’ve been more appropriate to develop these events into an Epilogue.

 

    But I pick at nits.  For me, Nobody’s Girl was a gritty, gripping tale of systemic sexual abuse perpetrated by certain members of society’s power elite.  It shines a spotlight on a very dark aspect of the American dream, but it also provides hope and resources for the victims of this abuse.  Judging from the reviews at both Amazon and Goodreads, a vast majority of others had the same reaction.

 

    10 Stars.  One last thing.  Virginia Giuffre spent quite a few years in Australia, and in the book she utilizes several common phrases that are used Down Under.  Among them are “having a whinge” and “faffing around”.  Who knew that Australians speak a foreign language?

Coffee Tea or Me? - Donald Bain

   1967; 311 pages.  Full Title:  Coffee, Tea or Me?: The Uninhibited Memoirs of Two Airline Stewardesses.  New Author? : Yes.  Genres : Aviation Novel; Women Biographies; Memoirs.  Overall Rating: 6*/10.

 

    Are you tired of being a poor midwestern girl, stuck in one place?  Do you yearn to travel all over the world, every day?  Would you like to meet suitors on a daily basis?  Could someone show you how to tell which ones are truly eligible and which are already married?  What if you could occasionally meet and talk to some celebrities where you work?

 

    Does nightly partying with your fellow workers sound like it would be fun?  Maybe even have a couple of them as roommates sharing an apartment in some big city.  Wouldn’t it be great if someone was willing to pay you for having such experiences?

 

    Trudy Baker would be happy to tell you how to accomplish this.  She’s already living such a dream.  It’s called being a stewardess.

 

    And of course, she'll also alert you to some of the downsides to this career.

 

What’s To Like...

    There’s no overarching storyline in Coffee Tea or Me?, instead it’s 23 vignettes about various aspects of a stewardess’s life.  The text is written in the first-person POV, Trudy’s.  Some are autobiographical, Trudy is born and raised in Amarillo, Texas, yearns to see the world, and enrolls in a “stewardess school” where she is taught the ways and means of flying the friendly skies.  She also meets Rachel there, who becomes her best friend.

 

    A lot of the chapters give tips and insights about being a happy, outgoing, successful stewardess.  Trudy shares ways to deal with lusty aircraft captains, drunks, womanizers, and hyperactive kids, both the prodigies and the brats.  You’ll learn how male passengers stack up by profession and nationality, and where's the best place to stay with fellow aircraft personnel when you have a layover in various cities.  You’ll even be taught “stewardess lingo”.

 

    Coffee Tea or Me? was written in 1967, the year before I took my first flight, and it was fun to see how things have changed since then.  Back then, there was a 2-drink limit for passengers, although in-flight smoking was allowed.  If you forgot to get a pack of cigarettes at the airport, you could buy a mini-pack from the stewardess.  In-flight meals were standard fare and there was no assigned seating, so you had to tell the stewardess your name during preflight, so she could ascertain that you didn’t sneak on board.  And here's a couple non-flight things that are mentioned which have since disappeared: stationery stores, cigarette commercials, and girdles.

 

    The two final chapters form a sort of ending for the book.  Trudy has developed into a topnotch stewardess, but has become burnt out in the process.  The airline she works for arranges for her to see a shrink, with whom Trudy gets into competition to determine who will be analyzed and who will be asking the questions.  The title of the last chapter is: ”We’ll Give It One More Year. Okay?”, which gives a hint as to things close out.  Wikipedia indicates there are three more sequels to this book, which I never knew, and a TV movie, which I vaguely recall.

 

Kewlest New Word ...

Popliteal (adj.) : relating to the hollow at the back of the knee.

 

Ratings…
    Amazon: 4.1*/5, based on 252 ratings and 80 reviews.

    Goodreads: 3.28*/5, based on 1,395 ratings and 167 reviews.

 

Excerpts...

    “Ladies and gentlemen, I am truly sorry.  Truly sorry.  In my haste to be . . . to be . . . to be gangrenous . . . Uh, gangre . . .  to give each and every one you gathered here today gift, I violated the sacrilege . . . a sacred by-laws of this wonderful airline, and these wonderful girls here present.  So. If you will be so kind and present, please put all those li’l bottles away and don’t drink not even a tiny weeny drop ‘til we come to our departure . . . ah, destination.”  (pg. 195)

 

    Gravely lacking any background, academic or practical, in the arts of humanities, engineers will try to make chit-chat about the aircraft’s performance characteristics or outer space or why the ball always comes down after it goes up.  It’s best to feign ignorance if you’re interested; engineers hate anyone to know anything about their sphere of knowledge.

    Occasionally, an engineer will have the brains to realize that a stewardess isn’t interested in all that mechanical routine.  This type of individual will say something like, “Have you read Moby Dick lately?”  You’ve got to give him credit for trying.  (pg. 255)

 

You can always recognize a captain from the calluses on his finger from pushing the call button for coffee.  (pg. 97)

    There is a moderate amount of cussing in Coffee Tea or Me?, mostly involving the word “damn”.  We’d yawn at this nowadays, yet I think it was pretty edgy for a lighthearted novel from the 1960s.  Each chapter opens with a sparse sketch, and some of those had nudity in them, but nothing that I’d label “erotic”.

 

    There are a fair number of typos, but keep in mind that this is long before we had computers with MS-Word and Spellchecker to catch such things.  At one point the “couch section” of the plane was mentioned.  At first I thought this was a typo for “coach section”, but now I’m thinking that some first-class sections of a plane back then were equipped with couches.

 

    Chapters 10 deals with homosexual passengers.  Trudy describes them as “fay”, “queer”, “faggy”, and “perverts”.  The term “gay” apparently had yet to be used, and it’s nice to see how far we’ve come since then.

 

    Coffee Tea Or Me? was a light-hearted, quick-&-easy read for me, bringing back memories of airline amenities and hospitality in an era that's long gone.  I have fond memories of flying back in those days, which were my college years and in which I was usually flying stand-by.  Alas, a lot of the experiences recounted in the book are probably make-believe.  See the next section for the aftermath.

 

    6 Stars.  Coffee Tea Or Me? readers received a shock in 2002 when a writer, Donald Bain, revealed that he actually wrote the book.  Bain worked in public relations for American Airlines at the time.  Trudy Baker and Rachel Jones were made-up names, and two Eastern Airlines stewardesses were hired to pose as them on book promotion tours.  Wikipedia says that one of them ended up legally changing her name to the one Don Bain used in the book.  The Wiki article is well worth reading.

My Hitch in Hell - Lester I. Tenney

   1995; 210 pages.  Full Title: My Hitch in Hell – The Bataan Death March.  New Author? : Yes.  Genres : World War 2; Military history; Memoirs; Non-Fiction.  Overall Rating: 9*/10.

 

    The Bataan Death March.  It was perhaps even more of a shock to the “American Invincibility” myth than our country's initial World War 2 event: the surprise bombing of Pearl Harbor.

 

    Because the Death March came on the heels of something unthinkable: the complete surrender of the American forces stationed on the Bataan peninsula of the Philippines.  Americans surrendering?  To those sneaky Japanese?  Perish the thought.

 

    The Death March became a catalyst for intense hatred by America against Japan, and an effective recruitment tool.  Lots of books have been written about it, written by lots of authors.  Lester I. “Ten Spot” Tenney is one of them.  But he stands apart from the other writers in one crucial way.

 

    Lester Tenney was a participant in, and a survivor of, the Bataan Death March.

 

What’s To Like...

    As the book's subtitle suggests, the Bataan Death March certainly is the highlight of My Hitch in Hell, and the longest chapter is devoted to it.  However, that catastrophic event only lasted eight days (April 9-17, 1942), and this book actually chronicles Lester Tenney’s full 4-year stint of overseas US military service, 3½ years of which was spent as a POW of the Japanese.

 

    I was impressed by Tenney’s even-handed “ground-level view” of the fight for the Philippines.  It is portrayed in our history books as a noble sacrifice of the American forces to slow down the Japanese advance.  But snafus abounded (see Chapter 2 and the first excerpt below), and if you were part of the units being sacrificed, facing death, torture, starvation, and brutal beatings (see second excerpt below), you might more abandoned than noble.

 

    I was pleasantly surprised to find the rest of the book just as interesting as the Death March itself.  Lester Tenney’s decision to join a local National Guard unit in 1940 eventually resulted in his being stationed in the Far East.  After the Death March and captivity in two POW camps in the Philippines, he was shipped off to Japan itself to endure barbaric conditions while working in a coal mine.  Freed only once the war ended, the latter chapters recount his repatriation and return to the US, in some ways just as excruciating as his POW ordeals.

 

    It was enlightening to see the steps Lester took to keep his sanity intact and his spirits up.  One of his tricks was to learn some basic Japanese phrases from his captors so he could understand what they were screaming about.  It also helped to keep a mental image of his wife, in order to have something to motivate him to stay alive.

 

    There were lighter moments as well.   Lester sets up a craps game while on the prison ship headed to Japan, which eased everyone’s mind since allied submarines were torpedoing any and all boats flying the Rising Sun flag and the Japanese refused to mark prison ships with Red Cross markings.  At the POW camp in Japan he helped set up, with the permission of the commandant, a musical talent show titled “The Ziegfeld Follies of 1944”.  He also arranged a sort of  black market goods-exchange system where items were bartered between both POW and Japanese patrons, with the middle man (Lester) charging an “agent’s fee”.

 

    The ending is bittersweet.  Lester comes home to a postwar America that has changed a lot in the five years he’s been away.  His wife Laura also has changed, and that needs attending to, especially since they had married in secret.  War is hell, even for the victors.

 

Ratings…
    Amazon: 4.7*/5, based on 220 ratings and 98 reviews.

    Goodreads: 4.35*/5, based on 399 ratings and 62 reviews.

 

Excerpts...

    We still did not have any training on the new tanks.  While we were in Honolulu, our commander tried to borrow two 37mm (the types mounted in our new tanks) and enough ammunition to practice from our transport deck while en route to the Philippines; but post ordnance in Hawaii refused this request.  When our tank unit arrived in the Philippines, we asked for the use of a firing range so that we could become familiar with the weapons mounted in our new tanks.  This request was also denied.  Therefore, it was not until the Japanese bombers and Zeros came over Clark Field that we were able to get in our “practice.”  On-the-job training does not work very well under these conditions.  (pg. 19)

 

    One of the men had a very bad case of malaria and had barely made it to the rest area.  He was burning up with fever and severely disoriented.  When ordered to stand up, he could not do it.  Without a minute’s hesitation, the guard hit him over the head with the butt of his gun, knocked him down to the ground, and then called for two nearby prisoners to start digging a hole to bury the fallen prisoner.  The two men started digging, and when the hole was about a foot deep, the guard ordered the two men to place the sick man in the hole and bury him alive.  The two men shook their heads; they could not do that.

    Once again without warning, and without any effort to settle the problem any other way, the guard shot the bigger of the two prisoners.  (pg. 57)

 

“Anyone can learn Japanese in ten easy beatings.”  (pg. 100)

    There’s not a lot of profanity in My Hitch in Hell, which surprised me, given the gruesome settings.  I noted just 8 instances in the first 50% of the book, and these were of the "milder" ilk.  This was helped by the author often choosing non-vulgar options when he was able, such as defecate, urinate, bowels, anus, feces, and others.

 

    There were some negative reviews at Amazon for this book.  Some people wondered whether the author “tweaked” some events to make himself look good.  That’s possible, but hey, that could be true in any autobiography, and I’d counter that quite often Lester suffers beatings for getting caught doing something underhanded, or for no reason at all other than Japanese barbarity.  Others thought the writing was rather amateurish.  They have a point, but I thought it added to the realism of the account.

 

    For me, My Hitch in Hell was a brutal and eye-opening read.  I’ve read about the Bataan Death March in my history books.  It’s quite different to “see” it through the eyes of one who survived it.

 

    9 Stars.  One last thing.  On pages 211-213 in the back of the book there's an Appendix listing the 80 servicemen in Lester Tenney’s unit who didn’t make it back, along with (where known) their place, date, and cause of death.  It made for a sobering read.

Boom!: A Baby Memoir 1947-2022 - Ted Polhemus

   2012; 402 pages.  Full Title : Boom! – A Baby Boomer Memoir 1947-2022.  New Author? : Yes.  Genre : Non-Fiction; Memoir; Pop Culture.  Overall Rating : 7*/10.

    "OK Boomer."

    What in the world did we Boomer Babies do to make that catchphrase become so popular?

    I mean, I know we brag about our music, but hey, it really is the best ever.  The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Doors, Bob Dylan.  None of today’s bands can touch those groups.  Yeah, if you want to get technical about it, none of those acts featured musicians who actually were baby-boomers, but we claim them as our own anyway.

    Our drugs were better, too.  Getting high on weed and tripping on acid.  Grooving to cosmic vibes and psychedelic colors, while the lyrics to Donovan's "Mellow Yellow".  Can today’s opioids and other meds give you anything like that?  Nah, I didn’t think so.

    Even the sex was better back then.  Free love and all that.  Birth control pills were just becoming readily available and AIDS had yet to appear in the world.  Talk about perfect timing.

    And last but not least, we had the best protests.  We’d turn out by the thousands to shut down colleges, chant slogans, and get our heads bashed in.  Man, I love the smell of tear-gas in the morning.  So what d’ya say about all that, young‘uns?

    “OK Boomer.”

What’s To Like...

    Boom! is a memoir, a genre I rarely read.  The author is Ted Polhemus, a genuine baby-boomer, since he was born in 1947.  Ted started out life in Neptune City, a small town in New Jersey, close to the more-famous rock-&-roll mecca of Asbury Park.  He studied anthropology at Temple University, and has lived in the UK for the past 30+ years.  So he’s gotten to observe the Boomer culture firsthand from both the American and English perspectives.

    The book is divided into 11 chapters, namely:

Ch. 1: 1947 - Introduction

Ch. 2: Coming Home – First four years

Ch. 3: Suburban Life – Moving to the suburbs

Ch. 4: Modern Times – The teens

Ch. 5: Sex

Ch. 6: Drugs

Ch. 7: Rock ‘n’ Roll

Ch. 8: Protest

Ch. 9: Swinging in London – Moving across the pond

Ch. 10: No Future – The birth of Punk

Ch. 11: 2022 – Where we’re heading

    Being a memoir, the author recounts a bunch of his personal experiences, but only as they relate to the Baby Boomer culture.  I’m three years younger than Ted Polhemus, so a lot of what he went through resonated with me.  He remembers exactly where he was when JFK was shot; so do I.  He revels in the childhood memory of family trips to the local Carvel Soft Ice Cream store; so do I.  His first plane trip was in 1969; mine was in 1968.   He laughs at the silliness that arises in a couple of his acid trips (including dimension-hopping and a cat exorcism); so can I.

     There’s a heavy emphasis on the music of the times, and the author's tastes in that area are excellent.  Asbury Park gave us Bruce Springsteen and Southside Johnny, two of  Ted's and my favorite rockers.  The author seems to not think much of Prog Rock, and we’ll have to agree-to-disagree on that one.  But his tastes in literature and movies/TV are also top-notch.

    Era-specific trivia abounds, and I loved it.  Hugh Hefner, the patriarch of Playboy magazine, was raised a strict Methodist.  There is no apostrophe in the biker-gang name “Hells Angels”, I never noticed that before.  And “Levittown” was a nationwide phenomenon that greatly catalyzed the 1950s mass exodus from cities to suburbs; I remember billboards touting one of those Levittowns close to where I grew up.

    The e-book version is 375 pages long, but the text actually ends at page 315.  The next 40 pages are titled “Sources and Inspirations”, and are simply pop-culture lists divided into headings of Music, Films, TV shows, Fiction Books, and Non-Fiction Books, all of which show you what tickles the author's fancy.  This is followed by a Timeline and some Polhemus family photographs which aid in getting a feel for life as a baby boomer.

    The final chapter, enigmatically titled “2022”, is Ted Polhemus’s predictions on how what’s in store for the aging Baby Boomers.  Written in 2012, it is well thought-out, but pessimistically bleak.  Today, eight years later and a mere two years before 2022, I am happy to say the most of the forecast doom-and-gloom has not panned out. 

 Kewlest New Word ...

Twee (adj.) : excessively or affectedly quaint, pretty, or sentimental.

Others: Semiological (adj.)..

Excerpts...

    Despite everything which happened in fashion, style and music, 1947’s most significant historical influence was ultimately one of simple demographics.

    There were 3.9 million of us born in America in 1947.  It had been 3.47 million in 1946.  Compared to only 2.8 million in 1945.  A similar “baby boom” occurred throughout much of the world following in the wake of the end of WWII, and had a remarkable impact on world history – a reverberating impact which is still being felt in the 21^st century; this simple demographic blip and its underlining of a generational model of history (“my generation”) becoming the key storyline which shaped the narrative of the post-war world.  (loc. 228)

    In a nutshell, the problem with Rock minus Roll was you couldn’t dance to it.

    OK, you could wave your hands around or jump about a bit, but in truth very few of us even did this.  Watch the DVD of Woodstock where, a handful of happy Hippies cavorting about at the beginning and end excepted, what you have is half a million white people sat on their butts looking up at a stage.  When, finally, Soul Funksters Sly and the Family Stone come on, we realize what’s been missing: syncopation – the “ugh”, that slight but all important warping of the space-time continuum which, once Rock had arrived, would have to seek sanctuary in Soul and Funk.  (loc. 2002)

Kindle Details…

    The Kindle version of Boom! sells for $6.00 at Amazon right now.  ANAICT, the only other e-book available at Amazon by this author is StreetStyle, which sells for $14.99.   Ted Polhemus has more than 20 other books to offer in “real book” format; you can see the complete list at Wikipedia.

 “The teenager may first have been pandered to in America, but Britain handed them the keys and, blowing raspberries at the Old Guard, just told them to get on with it.”  (loc. 2584 )

    There are a couple of nits to pick, none of which involve the book's content.  From least important to most:

    The photos are cool, and can be expanded, but not in the usual “finger-stretching” way.  Instead of tapping on a pic, press on it.  A menu will pop up which includes the option to zoom.  This then activates the finger-stretching technique.

     Like any memoir/autobiography, there is probably a bit of “skewing” of events in the past to the author’s favor.   Most of the personal things here seem reasonable, with the possible exception of the airplane sexploit at the end of Chapter 5.

    Finally, for an author with 20+ books to his credit, the editing here is atrocious.  Typos abound, and some passages get repetitious.  The most egregious typo was “Jimmy Hendrix”.  It’s “Jimi”.  Dude, that’s unforgiveable.  😎

    But I pick at nits.  Overall, I found Boom! to be an fascinating and nostalgic read.  Ted Polhemus presents the history of the Baby Boomer era in an objective fashion – noting both its plusses and minuses, and that's a big plus.

    7 Stars.  In looking at Ted Polhemus’s bibliography at Wikipedia, Boom! seems like a one-off effort, unrelated to his other works.  I sorta get the feeling this was a “bucket list” item, written by a 65-year-old Baby Boomer looking back over his life.  If so, the project was a success.

The Essential Ginsberg - Allen Ginsberg

   2015; 451 pages.  New Author? : Yes.    Genre : Non-Fiction; Poetry; Memoirs; Reference.  Overall Rating : 6*/10.

    Allen Ginsberg, born 06/03/26, died 04/05/97, and arguably one of the three most recognizable names associated with the “Beat Generation” movement in the 1950’s.  If Timothy Leary was the spokesman for the movement (“turn on, tune in, drop out!”), and Baba Ram Dass was its spiritual guru (“be here now!”), then Ginsberg was its poet laureate (“whoever controls the media, the images, controls the culture.”).

    Since I’m a child of the 60’s, the Beat Generation is slightly before my time.  And while I could probably tell you that Ginsberg’s most famous poem is titled “Howl”, I couldn’t quote a line from it.  Indeed, while I could cite quotes by Leary and Ram Dass, I had to google Allen Ginsberg quotes to find one to fit in the previous paragraph.

    Which is sad, since Ginsberg’s poetry was a guiding light back then for a young generation who no longer felt content to live the “Leave It To Beaver” lifestyle, where housewives wore dresses and pearl necklaces to cook supper, and Father Knows Best.

    So for me personally, it was time to get acquainted with the writings of Allen Ginsberg.  

What’s To Like...

    The Essential Ginsberg, edited by Michael Schumacher, is much more than simply a collection of Ginsberg’s poems.  It is divided into the following sections:

Part 00 : Introduction (4%)

    A brief overview of Allen Ginsberg’s life by the editor.

Part 01 : Poems (5%)

    The biggest section of the book, and my favorite.  The timespan is 1947-1997.

Part 02 : Songs (39%)

    The shortest section, but my second-most favorite.

Part 03 : Essays (43%)

    Long-winded, yet insightful.  Ginsberg describes feeling “sent” to enlighten us about poetry.

Part 04 : Journals (59%)

    Less pretentious than ‘Essays’, and more revealing.

Part 05 : Interviews (66%)

    Only two interviews, and both dragged for me.

Part 06 : Letters (78%)

    Self-tales of Ginsberg’s travels and misadventures.

Part 07 : Photographs (97%)

    Mostly of his Beat Generation pals.  Tip : The photos are expandable in the Kindle!

    Allen Ginsberg’s overall writing style is basically to convey exactly what thoughts are going through his mind at the present time.  He engages in editing/revising only grudgingly, and it doesn’t matter if it’s a poem, a letter, an interview, or whatever.  This is both a positive and a negative: you get a very honest take on what it was like to be a stand-out member of the Beat Generation, but if you were aiming to do some hero-worship, you’re going to be sorely disillusioned by his candor.

    Unsurprisingly, for me, the best part of the book is the “Poems” section.  Howl is there, and lots of others., all arranged chronologically.  Most, but not all, of Ginsberg’s poems have no meter or rhyme scheme, but a few were, and it was nice to discover he really could write structured poems if he wanted to.   Similarly, the songs, though sparse in number, are inherently metered and rhyming which, frankly is how I prefer my prose 

    For the second time in my last couple of e-books, the footnotes are slickly done, so this may be an improvement done by Kindle.  OTOH, the font sizes varied greatly; that’s something Kindle needs to work on.  I also liked the photographs, they put “faces” on a bunch of the Beat Generation luminaries that heretofore were just names to me.

    I especially enjoyed Ginsberg’s poetic reflections on growing old; there’s a gentleness there that counterbalances the shock-jock effect of his earlier poems. And the poem “Wales Visitation” was apparently done under the influence of LSD, which made for an interesting read.  Also, it was fun to learn the origin of the phrase “Beat Generation”, and I also marveled how extensively he managed to travel, given that most of the time, he was truly a “starving artist”.

 Kewlest New Word ...

Prosody (n.) : the patterns of rhythm and sound used in poetry.

Others : Panegyric (n.).

Excerpts...

    Will that happen to me?

    Of course, it’ll happen to thee.

    Will my arms wither away?

    Yes yr arm hair will turn gray.

    Will my knees grow weak & collapse?

    Your knees will need crutches perhaps.

    Will my chest get thin?

    Your breasts will be hanging skin.

    Where will go – my teeth?

    You’ll keep the ones beneath.

    What’ll happen to my bones?

    They’ll get mixed up with stones.  (loc. 2588, from the poem ‘Don’t Grow Old’)

    At this point, Ken Kesey – a man whom you may have heard of as a major contemporary novelist – who lives near San Francisco and sympathized with both marchers and Angels, intervened.  We all had a party at the Hell’s Angels house.  Most everybody took some LSD, and we settled down to discussing the situation and listening to Joan Baez on the phonograph, and chanting Buddhist prayers.  (loc. 3866)

Kindle Details...

    The Essential Ginsberg sells for $10.99.  There are a number of other (non-poetry) books available that are authored or co-authored by Ginsberg – mostly letters, memoirs, or books about other members of the Beat Generation, and ranging in price from $9.00 to $15.99.  If you’re looking for books containing his poetry you can go “sparse” with a 47-page version of Howl and Other Poems ($2.99) or “comprehensive” with the 1000+page  Collected Poems 1947-1997 ($9.99).

 “It should be easier for a poet to understand a revolution than for a revolution to understand poetry.”  (loc. 3664)

    There were some quibbles.  As good as the Poems and Songs sections were , the Essays and Journals sections seemed at times pretentious and slow to me.  And while Ginsberg’s honesty is laudable, what I saw was a sometime jaundiced poet/writer who often just wanted to get high, get naked, go to orgies, and shove the adoring flower children out of his life.  In the end, his writings reinforced my opinion that all self-proclaimed spiritual leaders, regardless of denomination or particular religion, are a bunch of narcissistic charlatans.

    Allen Ginsberg was both a complex and troubled soul; a Jewish, homosexual, New Yorker who was into gurus, meditation, and all sorts of drugs.  He was anti-war, anti-nuclear energy, and loved to write explicitly about gay and hetero sex.  His poems will challenge you, shock you, and maybe even enlighten you.  It’s too bad the other sections didn’t do likewise for me.

    6 Stars.  I think I would’ve enjoyed The Essential Ginsberg more if it were laid out in strict chronological order, regardless of what kind of writing a piece was.  After the Poems & Songs were done (at 39% Kindle), the rest of the book was a slog until the photographs at the very end.  Still, I am happy I took the time to explore Allen Ginsberg’s writings; it was a worthwhile and enriching experience.