Shoe meme

This is probably more suited to a Facebook or Twitter posting but since I participate in neither of those particular memes I just wanted to acknowledge receipt of the nifty pair of bowling shoes my sister gave me. At last night’s league, even though they had zero effect on the level of my bowling prowess, I nonetheless appreciated how they looked down there at the bottom of my legs. I love my new bowling shoes.

Smell of success

I’ve probably said this before but, hey, my memory is no better than any other septuagenarian so why should I care? Anyway (as I said before), I don’t read anywhere near the number of books that I used to. At several points in my life I was at least a two or three book-a-week dude but mostly I kept it to maybe one-a-week. The times of sheer volume can be traced directly to long commutes on public transportation and the less so to just being wont to loll around like a lump with my nose in a book. Now, like almost everybody else, I spend way too much time in front of an eye-burning screen that is slowly robbing me of my eyesight, brain function and, probably, testosterone.

So I’m really pleased when I run across a new-ish book that I really liked and feel I can recommend to the various and sundry in my life. The latest title in this small-ish pantheon of book-ish taste is “Pure” by Andrew Miller. It sucked me in early and kept me interested and guessing and, yes, wondering how the hell this work of literate fiction ever came to be in Mr. Miller’s (convoluted) mind. It also makes me glad there is no call for scratch-and-sniff books in libraries and bookstores (and Kindles). This book literally smells, but in a good way if that’s conceivable.

In 1785 (therefore pre-revolutionary) a young man, a newly minted “engineer,” is given the task of removing a crumbling cathedral in Paris named “les Innocents.” Abandoned by both church and state as a viable structure it is scheduled for demolition. Unfortunately for all concerned the acres of land surrounding les Innocents is a centuries-old cemetery that is chock-a-block with the remains of equally centuries-old human beings that need to be removed to a less disturbing ‘burb. The stench pervades the neighborhood (and maybe all of Paris) to the extent that the corruption is invasive (and pervasive) including the very food people eat and the tears they shed. Weirdness and madness are just part of the deal and the book is a great Halloween read for the strong of stomach.

Mr. Miller’s conjuring up of this little bit of history is believable, kind of magical and, well, just damned interesting. All of the characters are warped by their own history and, now, by the job at hand. Others might find the doom and gloom and gore a bit much but, even though several nightmares followed late reading, I had a hard time putting it down.

When I saw this product for sale my first response was, “No way!” But, so sorry, it's called a "Beardo" and it is definitely on the market. However, I’m not about to reveal the resource. I have a birthday coming up and I know too many people with perverseness pervading their DNA. The thing is probably dangerously flamable as well as being dog-shit ugly.