Maybe I'll Read George Pelecanos Instead

Can someone explain to me why exactly I feel the need to get into an Elmore Leonard kick just as the fall season descends upon us, each and every year?

Coffee Makes Me Strong!

After my seventh cup of coffee yesterday, I realized that I might -- just might -- have a coffee problem. Maybe.

It's Not Beer Goggles, I'm Just Near-Sighted

While I was in North Carolina -- see post below, and I should probably add that my time there was for a bachelor party -- I did one of the dumbest things I've done in a long while.

No, nothing naughty. No pictures floating around that I'm embarassed about (I think). I wasn't arrested or anything like that. Simply, I lost my glasses. In and of itself, not the worst thing that could have happened-- but I'm still kicking myself in how it came to pass, the stupidity of it all.

The five of us there decided to rent a boat for the last afternoon were there, and brought a cooler full of beer. We made our way to a popular little area, anchoring off a small little island. (By the way, we found out that beer cans float. Pow!) So, there I was on the boat and my old roommate -- who now lives in Dallas with his new wife -- called for another beer. Per custom, I launched a beer in his general direction, ending up five feet to the right. He filled up the empty beercan with water, for weight, and rocketed it back, albeit a dozen feet to the the right of the boat. Not thinking, I dove in after it. As I was doing so, I realized I still had my glasses on. Damnit. I thrashed around to see if I could find them, but no luck. Such a dumb move.

Flash forward to a little while later, when a gal from a boat neighboring ours if I thought she was cute. I said thought she was, but I was having a problem seeing objects more than a dozen feet away. Suave.

So, I spent the rest of my time there, and the flight back, squinting heavily. Stupid beer thrown to the right.

Scratch My Back For Me?

I glance around the workplace, discover that nobody is watching me at that moment. I rub my back against the cubicle's endcap for a good 15 seconds. Ah, sweet relief...

For the past week, I've been dealing with a bad case of sunburn, which I acquired down in North Carolina during the Labor Day break. Ah, sunburn, my old friend-- you're what caused me to be known as "Lobster Boy" numerous times while growing up. Good to have you back and, now, glad that you're gone. At least for the moment.

"The Wire" Is Almost Here

I don't think I'll be going out on Sunday nights again for a while.

"The Wire" officially begins its fourth season Sunday, and every review I've seen has been absolutely glowing, with a large number calling it the best show on television. From the New York Times, to Variety, to Entertainment Weekly, to USA Today, to the New York Post...nice. I am even more enthusiastic about the new season than I was in July.

Knowing that critical reviews can help bring about another season of the drama, J. Max Robbins of Broadcasting & Cable puts it best: "The Wire, perhaps the only police drama that truly deserves to be called “gritty,” begins its fourth season on HBO...Let me be the first to begin the campaign for a fifth. A nuanced portrait of urban Baltimore, with its internecine battles among cops, politicos and drug dealers, The Wire demands a far greater level of commitment and attention from its audience than your standard escapist police procedural."

ABC, I will not forgive you one bit if your silliness with the "Path to 9/11" neocon fan-fic chokes off all the talk about the wonderfulness of this series. Seriously.

For links to even more glowing reviews, check out Jim King's site for "The Wire" here.

53 Books???

Maureen Dowd: "Bush tells journalists he has been reading prodigiously, 53 books so far this year."

At this rate, he'll read approximately 80 books this year. How is it that the most powerful man in the world, the President of the United States, is able to read at such a prodigous rate? Doesn't he have "hard work" that needs to be done, things that take precedence?

Charlie Huston is a Sadomasochist

In a period of 365 days, Charlie Huston will have published three books-- crazy. Who does that these days?

With his next hitting in less than a month, I realized I needed to get caught up with the pulp noir writer's work. I'd read "Caught Stealing" a few months back (see here), and just finished "Six Bad Things," the second in the series. His next, the final part of the trilogy and entitled "A Dangerous Man", comes out September 19.

While I seem to be suffering from book ADD lately, this taut effort -- which begins in Mexico and then crosses back over the border -- proves he is no fluke. Hank Thomspon, now a wanted man on the lam, with a string of murders to his name (the majority of which he did commit), fears for his family after several factors come into play. And it helps spin the series into a whole new direction for the third book. Well done, Huston, in pulling this pivot off rather believably.

While I said before he was comprable to a Shane Black effort, I'm going to amend that to saying he is also very Elmore Leonard-like, in how he is able to craft intriguing, zany characters and has a gift for dialogue. This book is also a little less gritty than his first, but not by much.

Definitely a good read. And, Huston, take a vacation-- c'mon now, you're making too many writers look like slackers.