Incredible (True) Fishing Stories - You May Not be Hooked

Can you recall ever seeing a funny film moment involving fishing? I can't. There have been some unpleasant slapstick scenes involving very dead fish stinking out the back of a truck (a 3 Stooges short comes to mind), as well as the "juggling an obviously wooden fish while pretending it's snapping at your fingers" gag or the "marionette fish with the hinged jaw spurting water while lying on a dinner plate."

Stand-up routines? No...sticking a worm on a hook and waiting till a fish punctures its lip on it...is not much of a joke. I can't think of any comedian who got much mileage out of fishing stories. At best, there was Tim Conway's "Dorf Goes Fishing" video. It wasn't one of his best, but apparently while the subject is a washout to the mainstream public, fishermen are desperate enough to buy something like that via mail-order.

And so, my guess is that "Incredible and True! Fishing Stories" is a niche market item at best...intended for die-hard fin-atics. Anyone with a dry sense of humor, or a profound disinterest in technical talk...will very likely be baffled by items that might be true, but don't seem incredible, or even interesting. Some tales go on for several pages for no real pay-off at all.

For a small square book that's supposed to be browsable, it's a bit of a snore to deal with the padding and the technical jargon.

But judge for yourself. Here's a page (119 out of the 212) that's apparently supposed to make your jaw drop...as if there was a hook in it. If this works for you, buy the book. Otherwise, if you get it as a gift, you'll want to throw it back.

A MARLIN'S LIFE JACKET

Owner of southern California's Balboa Bay Club, Bill Ray, and three of his friends were fishing off Cabo San Lucas, Mexico when all five fishing reels clacked like a flock of feeding birds. Suddenly the water erupted with five hooked marlin. All four anglers grabbed a fishing rod and silenced the reel's clicker. The air, whoever, still echoed with chatter. A fifth unattended marlin continued to take line. Ray stepped to the unmanned fishing rod and freed the drag. Then he tied a life jacket to the gear and flung it overboard. An hour later, all four manned marlin were landed and released. Ray, who had kept an eye on the bright orange life jacket, captained the boat as a friend retrieved the floating gear and landed the fifth marlin, releasing it for another day."

That's it.

True, yes. Incredible?

It would seem that these days, most people would be more prone to seeing incredible, true postings on YouTube where you can actually see the flailing fish and witness a dramatic moment. Or...just make up a story and tell it to a friend. "...and you should've seen the one that got away..."

THE PAT BOONE FAN CLUB - Sue William Silverman

"The Pat Boone Fan Club...My Life as a White Anglo-Saxon Jew" is more an Anglo-Saxon "confessional" than the typical humorous Jewish-neurotic rant you'd get in short stories or memoirs from Philip Roth or Woody Allen. It does have amusing moments, but most of it touch on serious, and heartfelt issues involving the search for identity and a place to call home (she's had a few husbands and lived in several cities).

Only a few chapters are about the man who sang "white bread" pop hits in the 50's and early 60's. Most of this collection of essays (some of them award winners and previously published in literary magazines) are about Jewish jitters if not outright angst. This includes the many times Sue has been a stranger in a strange part of America. However, only a Jew is going to write an entire essay pretty much about wanting a colonoscopy to find an answer to a condition that might be colitis, or might not. That it isn't gut-funny as a stand-up whiner like Richard Lewis might've made it, is just Silverman's conversational style and sensibility. She knows anecdotes about "the human comedy" aren't all laugh out loud hilarious. So why force it on every page? Instead, her book sometimes seems like a transcript you overheard from someone on a cell phone. It gets more and more fascinating even if you don't know the person.

No doubt, a lot of readers here already know Sue from her previous books so reading an old friend's diary, or a lament about a hospital stay, would be particularly engrossing. They know all about her painful childhood via "Because I Remember Terror, Father, I Remember You," and another memoir, "Love Sick," focusing on sexual addiction. The latter became a Lifetime made-for-TV movie.

The very serious recurring theme of this collection, is shaking off the agony of guilt and inferiority. It's difficult not to feel confusion, shame and insecurity when antisemitic remarks slip from the mouth of a trusted loved one. Sue hasn't forgotten the time her first husband complained about a project and said, "I won't let him Jew me down." She also won't forget her father, the guy who destroyed her innocence and drove her to wish Pat Boone would adopt her: "I ask you. Would you want to be Jewish if your Jewish father is a bad man? A bad, bad man?"

But just when you hope for a touch of Jewish ironic humor, or a gentle smile, she does toss in a one-liner: "I know I am Jewish…or as Jewish as a gefilte fish is Jewish."

Probably the most universal chapters of the book refer to her relationship with Pat Boone. At first these "fan notes" involve the restless yearning and anxious fears about actually meeting him. Most of us have had a stage door experience like that. Add to this, the literal counter-culture of being drawn to an exact opposite...an All-American Christian with no accent and perfect hair and a pretty darn perfect face and body, too. In alternating chapters, we get more of the main story...her subsequent encounters with Pat Boone.

Mr. Boone did not, however, supply an endorsement for the back cover, which may just be modesty on his part. He comes off well, and Silverman doesn't sugar coat any realities here, including how she rekindled her fan-appreciation at a time when the aging star was playing minor places in front of sometimes listless older crowds.

While Jewish bookstores are shrinking in number, and would be the likely place to promote a book like this, Sue told me she felt there was a wider audience for her book: "This is really in many ways an American story, about assimilation, a search for identity…it's not just for Jewish audiences. I have friends who grew up Catholic, who didn't want to be Catholic…" so some might easily read the Pat Boone segments and substitute most any star of any religion or color. (My brief talk with Sue was in interview mode. I don't know her; the "Ronald Smith" on page 121 is not me!)

In "Dixie Flyer," Randy Newman sang about what it was like to be part of a family of Jews trying to live in the South: "Christ, they wanted to be Gentiles, too. Who wouldn't down there, wouldn't you? An American Christian! God Damn!" The Jew who celebrates Christmas and finds comfort in the hymns, the Gentile who admires a smart Jewish friend and comes to a Seder...the little white kid who shyly wants the 7 foot black basketball player's autograph...the Middle Eastern girl with dreams of going to Paris and being like Gigi...Sue William Silverman writes for them all, as well as herself in this book. And maybe someday Pat Boone might cover Randy Newman's song. He just hasn't done it yet.

"Out of Print Clothing" - Authors Turn into Shirts and Book Bags for Charity

Who'd you like to tote around? It seems one of the top choices is Poe, and a "Poe-Ka Dot" $18 bag. What would be your favorite book jacket to wear as a shirt? "The Great Gatsby" is a big favorite.

One of the most interesting booths at the BEA (Book Expo America) convention held in NYC last week, was from Outofprintclothing.com. They were selling tote bags, note pads and "Shirts with a Mission." What nostalgia. And what…is the point?

"Sending books to Africa," a spokesman told me. The premise has been so successful that the company is now offering more modern book jackets and author photos, not just "public domain" material. I got a smile and a shake of the head and "No names," when I asked if any authors or book companies turned them down. I got the same when I asked about any specific authors who were particularly encouraging. "We don't want to single anyone out…but we've had a lot of wonderful responses."

Aside from book jackets and author photos, replicas of old fashioned library book pockets are also popular. Some folks remember fondly the days when a library book had a card in a pocket, with the date due stamped on it. So why not tote that image around?

The profits from the totes, notepads and shirts go to a worthy cause. Books. REAL BOOKS. It's nice to know that while bookstores are going under, and some thrift shops are overgrown with dollar books they have to toss in the trash, some people are glad to get books. This charity claims to have sent hundreds of thousands of books to a wide range of countries in Africa; basically any nation that asks.

Perhaps Mr. Poe is a favorite over there as well…after all, in his fable "Silence," he name-checks Zaire, which wasn't exactly a tourist destination in the 1840's. No, he never went there, but he fancied it quite a bizarre tourist attraction: "And overhead, with a rustling and loud noise, the gray clouds rush westwardly forever, until they roll, a cataract, over the fiery wall of the horizon..."

JOY IN MUDVILLE : NEW CASEY AT THE BAT - FOR GIRLS

At the BEA book convention, I asked Bob Raczka if modern kids actually knew that old chestnut, "Casey at the Bat."

He said "it doesn't matter much either way. If they don't..." he pointed to the back of his new children's book. There, the venerable old poem stood. The catchy cover illustration shows what's important, which isn't that this is a sequel to "Casey at the Bat," but a book about a girl pitching on an all-boy's team. "Joy in Mudville" refers to a girl named Joy.

In Bob's re-write, all that happened when Mighty Casey struck out, was to drop the Mudville team to second place! No joy in Mudville? Not so fast, Mr. Thayer. According to Bob, they still have a chance at the pennant, because Casey came through in the next game. The big question: in this final game, can relief pitcher Joy hold Mudville's slim 1-0 lead? In the ninth inning?? With the bases loaded???

Like a typical little league diamond full of smooth dirt patches and bumpy weeds, the rhyming stanzas in this tense tale vary in texture. A young reader might speed easily through one section and stumble a bit on another. Here are two stanzas in a row, one speeding easily to first base and rounding to second, the other more awkward, like a heavy set player rounding third and tangling his feet a bit in reaching home:

As Joy, the rookie hurler
took the mound to pitch relief,
Some twenty thousand fans
stared down in silent disbelief.

What struck them dumb
was not the unknown's anonymity
It was the fact that Joy
(the rookie's first name) was a she.

A she, indeed. The male author and illustrator both dedicated the whole she-bang to their daughters. Thus they enable all girls (and boys, and educators) who aren't sure about co-ed baseball. One thing about baseball…it's one of the few sports where all sizes of kids can find a position and succeed, so why not both sexes?

Joy may not have the strongest arm in Mudville, but in fact, finesse often beats brute force. In the real world, knuckleball pitchers can go into their 40's because it's guile, not strength that helps them. As for the tricks that clever Joy uses, well, they aren't far-fetched. Some old-time fans might remember Steve Hamilton's wacky "Folly Floater." Steve just tossed the ball high in the air, surprising and frustrating batters who were prepared to fungo the ball into the seats when it landed in front of them…only to swing and miss.

Little boys, who might not like girls at this age, and might resent a girl on the team, might learn a lesson in tolerance here, and girls will of course find the book inspiring. Happily, the story is big on action, not preachy feminism, and there's no scene where anyone sulks about having a female on the team. Bottom line as the reader heads into the bottom of the ninth? This book's a great pastime, and the time passes quickly with a nice dash of humor.

Joyce Carol Oooof : Lena Dunham the star of the BEA?

Anybody remember Joyce Carol Oates?

Is Mary Higgins Clark really the only female mystery writer in the world?

Dr. Ruth with a ghost-written book on Greek and Roman mythology?

No, the only "glamorous" female writer to get a mention in anything but the dusty book trade papers was...

You see the picture. I don't want to mention the name more than once.

The literary darling of America is...somebody famous for taking her top off...when nobody wants to see it? Them?

The sad fact about BEA is that celebrities rule. Long, long gone are the days of Gore Vidal or even Tom Wolfe. Can the average American name any playwright who isn't dead? And who is still actively writing? (That lets out Edward Albee, assuming the average American is over 40).

It seems writers haven't been considered worthy of national exposure since the Carson-Cavett-Frost era. Only Cavett is still with us, he was at BEA, and nobody seemed to cover his latest tome aside from Publishers Weekly). Maybe writers have done it to themselves...with every "best selling novel" by certain authors reading just like the last one they did, only not as good. Even so, an HBO comic who isn't nearly as "smart" and "edgy" or "funny" as people think she is?

Aside from...her...the only other "authors" to get a glimmer of press were Billy Idol and Neil Patrick Harris (the latter may have gotten a tad more if he'd bother to show up on time or stay a while...but if the excuse is that "Hedwig" is an arduous show and he needs his rest, I'll take it).

Was it last year, or the year before, that the big attraction was Neil Young talking with Patti Smith?

I have hopes that maybe next year an actual author will climb into the ranks of "celebrity" rather than a "celebrity" stepping above and rendering invisible all BEA convention authors.