Amy Bennett

I came across Amy Bennet and thought I’d share. These are paintings, by the way.

Someday You'll Long for This
We Can Never Go Home Again
Coming to Grips
Losing It
Every Second Counts

From her bio,

Two years ago, I contsructed a 1:87 scale model neighborhood, a fictitious cluster of eleven houses depicted through model railroading miniatures, styrofoam, cardboard, and plastic, complete with string telephone wires and working lights. The process of designing and assembling the setting over several months triggered my imagination to develop characters to populate the place along with a loose timeline of events that would culminate in the neighborhood’s history. I considered who lived in each home, their family dramas, and the way their private lives might spill into view of their neighbors. The model became a stage on which to develop the psychological implications of belonging to a particular family, with all of its dramas, struggles and familiar routines. I thought: this tree will be taken down after an old man crashes into it; a father will transform this lawn into an ice skating rink; this house will be abandoned after its residents are scandalized on the evening news.

Kaxil Kiuic

My step-father is Indiana Jones.


Well, OK. His name is actually George Bey, but he’s like Indiana Jones.

He’s Dean of Sciences and Professor of Anthropology at Millsaps College in Jackson Mississippi and is currently on a whirlwind tour of Southeast Asia looking for gold and secret mystical skulls that will vanquish tyranny from the face of the earth and give the New Orleans Saints a Superbowl victory.

Well, OK. So maybe that’s impossible; the Saints will always stink. But he really is in Southeast Asia right now and he really is a Dean and a Professor and an archeologist, and he even owned a whip, and although he’s too young to have ever actually fought Nazis, if he did meet some Nazis, he would seriously kick their butts.

He’s a fantastic teacher and a wonderful father and he runs this totally freaking AWESOME biocultural reserve, Kaxil Kiuic: The Helen Moyers Biocultural Reserve.

Located in the Bolonchen District of the Puuc region of Yucatan, Mexico, the Helen Moyers Biocultural Reserve is a privately owned entity managed by Kaxil Kiuic, A.C. It consists of 4,000 acres of dry tropical forest and contains within it the ancient Maya center of Kiuic as well as the remains of the historic community of San Sebastian. The abundant and diverse flora and fauna found within the reserve make it one of the best remaining zones of dry tropical forest in the Yucatan Peninsula. The ecological and cultural resources of the reserve are protected, and 50 hectares of the Maya center of Kiuic have been officially donated by Kaxil Kiuic to the National Institute of Anthropology and History (INAH). Kiuic is one of the first archaeological sites that has been acquired officially by the INAH in Yucatan and will be preserved in its entirety within the protection of the biocultural reserve that surrounds it. This initiative represents a new model for development in Mexico to manage its ecological and cultural resources.

It’s a private organization, on privately owned land and supports a growing number of research projects, educational programs, and efforts to contribute to the development of long-term productivity and sustainability for nearby communities.

USA Today did an article on him and the site in Kaxil Liuic last June. (There’s a great photo gallery that accompanies the article too.)

I say he’s Indiana Jones, but the truth is, he’s cooler than Indiana Jones. He’s cooler because he’s real and because I know him and love him and grew up with him and because, well… because he’s a searching for meaning and truth. USA Today also interviewed him and they asked him about Indiana Jones. This was his answer,

Indiana Jones is a myth about archaeology and archaeologists. And like most great myths, it does at some level reflect a truth about what we do and our identity. Maya archaeology has a great history of adventure and most Maya archaeologists can tell you at least one hair raising tale that might find its way into an Indiana Jones film. And I don’t think we would be living and working in the jungle if we didn’t at some level enjoy the whole idea of exploration and adventure. Yesterday morning as I was leaving Stairway to Heaven, I put my hand on a tree only to find it occupied by a very long tree living snake looking me in the eye. Its skin perfectly mimicked the color and texture of tree it occupied. However, although the moment was Indiana Jones-esque, my reaction was not to yell or curse the beast and kill it, but pull out my dvd recorder and record the snake’s movement from tree to tree. I am a scientist and the moment was thrilling both because snakes are a little bit scary, but also because it was very cool to see this type of snake close up and have a chance to record what I was seeing.

I think this is one of the main things that distinguish the myth from the reality, the thrill is based on a combination of discovery and exploration from a scientific perspective. The moment of discovery, whether of an ancient tomb, or building or cache of pottery is one of the things that drive us to do what we do. It is a rush, no doubt about it. But the rush comes from unearthing a piece of the past that will aid us in understanding the questions of the past, not about cosmic powers or aliens, but about things like, how did the economic system operate, or what evidence is there for changing patterns of elite political organization. So, unlike Indy, we don’t grab things and run, we spend weeks and months and years, carefully unearthing things, most of which are very mundane. My team is out in the field excavating houses, and garbage dumps and plaza floors, systematically recording the data with cameras, and drawings. Carefully bagging and tagging each set of artifacts from a particular context. Others are collecting soil samples to try and extract information on plant and animal remains that might tell what an object was used for or what the Maya diet consisted of. These field archaeologists then send the work back to our field lab for analysis, so we can find out the dates for our buildings, or plazas and what they might have been used for. From there select material is sent to professional laboratories for chemical analysis or C14 dating. The end result are papers and presentations and books that interpret all the data in an effort to answer both the small and large questions that drive our discipline. It is from this data that our project is rewriting the history of Maya civilization in the Puuc region.

Photos from the Kaxil Kiuic website:


About a week ago, I stumbled across Whatever, John Scalzi’s blog. It’s my new favorite. I’ve been reading and sifting through back posts with the same gusto that I normally reserve for James Lileks.

I even went out and bought two of Scalzi’s novels: Old Man’s War and The Ghost Brigades. I finished the first in two days and am eagerly working through the second. They’re great fun. The first is a love letter to Robert Heinlein; it’s essentially a less pedantic and much funnier rewrite of Starship Troopers. The second is a sequel to the first. It’s good too.

Every so often, my perspective engine runs down a little and my sense of my relationship with the universe degrades. The world seems unduly oppressive and unfair, every thing’s a trial, there’s not enough money in the bank, the kids are whiny, the car’s a mess, the beer’s not cold, etc… etc…. A couple of weeks ago, my perspective had seriously down-shifted. I’d gone from “Relatively-Appreciative-And-Happy” right through “Tired-And-A-Little-Crabby” all the way down to “Consumed-With-Irritation-At-The-Injustice-Of-It-All-And-Taking-It-Out-On-Idiot-Blockbuster-Employees” when I happened across Scalzi’s site and his post, “Being Poor.” My perspective was immediately reset to “Deeply-Appreciative-Of-How-Wonderful-My-Life-Is-And-How-Lucky-I-Am.”

It’s a great post and well worth reading:

Sister Jean Marie

James Lileks has a post up at, “Who was your favorite elementary school teacher?” It got me thinking about the Catholic school I went to for fifth, sixth and seventh grades.

I remember Sister Jean Marie most of all. I had her for sixth and seventh grade math. Other teachers called her “an institution.” We called her old. We figured she’d probably taught Galileo math. We also figured she was probably the person who turned him in to the church.

She was mean. I don’t just mean strict, although she was certainly that. She enforced a rigid discipline in her class that no kid dared to defy. And we had some serious trouble-makers. We had one kid, Chester (no, that’s not his real name. I’ve changed the names of all the kids.), who was… troubled. Chester had a real-life pinball machine in his bedroom and lived in the French Quarter with his mother and our cross-dressing school music teacher, Mr. X (Maude to his good friends). Chester’s Mom and Mr. X didn’t live together so much as share rent. And I don’t mean to imply that Chester’s mom didn’t enjoy the company of men, because she did… extensively, maybe even professionally. (I do mean to imply that Mr. X also enjoyed the company of men, very much.) It was an odd house.

Chester was the kind of kid who, when the class was tasked with coloring in pretty little bunnies on Easter cards for the Children’s Hospital, would fill the bunnies on his cards entirely with black crayon and black magic marker . “Jungle Bunnies,” he called them. (Nice. I know. He had a lot of jokes that ran along similar lines; I’m unlucky enough to remember a few of them.) I remember that Mrs. L disapproved strongly. I’m pretty sure Chester got whacked with a ruler for that one. Of course, I think the cards still went out. There was a quota, after all.

Chester tortured poor Mrs. L. She was an old woman (aren’t they all when you’re in sixth grade?) with a giant, slate gray beehive hairdo. She wore giant faded muumuus with brown and yellow floral prints and taught history and social studies. And she had a glass eye. The eye would wander. Sometimes you couldn’t tell who Mrs. L was yelling at. It could just as easily be you or the kid across the room… there was no telling who she was looking at because she was staring both of you in the eye. Sometimes the glass eye would roll up toward the beehive… and then just keep on rolling on back until it was looking out the back of Mrs. Ls head. Then she’d stare at us with the one pale white eye, looking completely alien and vaguely reptilian. Until Chester would gently point it out, “Hey Miz L, yer eye has gone all freaky. Y’a looks kinda like a gater.”

But Chester was quiet as a mouse in Sister Jean Marie’s class.

Sister Jean Marie was mean. Not just hard and tough and stern–although she was all of those things too. A dog that’s been beaten all its life can get mean: all spite and venom and filled up with a nasty desire to hurt. Sister Jean Marie was like that. Especially at the blackboard. Doing problems in front of the rest of class is never fun, but in her class it was torture and humiliation. “What’s wrong Lucy?” “It’s an easy problem, Lucy.” “God you are so stupid, Lucy.” “You have a brain like a sieve, Lucy.” “It’s a wonder you can remember how to stand up, Lucy.” “Go sit down Lucy. Let someone else do it right.”

I remember a friend and I going back to visit her when we were in High School. Well, OK. We didn’t go back to visit her so much as visit generally, but she was there and we spoke to her. It had been four years since we’d been in her class. She asked about Lucy. Lucy had gone to a different high school, neither of us knew her anymore. Sister Jean Marie told us again that Lucy was the stupidest girl she’d ever seen.

I know. It’s not funny anymore, I’m sorry.

I remember when Bobby didn’t do his homework. “Where’s your homework, Bobby?” “Lost it or forgot it, Bobby?” “Don’t lie to me, Bobby.” “Forgot it or didn’t do it, Bobby?” “I thought so.” “Do you think I’m stupid, Bobby?” “Of course you do.” “Now you’re crying?” “Why are you crying, Bobby?” “Are you a little baby, Bobby? “Crybaby Bobby.” “Don’t be a little crybaby.” “Crybaby Bobby. Why don’t you go sit in the corner and cry, crybaby?” “Of course you are. Go sit in the corner if you’re going to cry. Crybaby.”

There was a chair that faced a corner in the back of the room. It was where crybabies went to sit until they stopped crying. When they were done they had to ask permission to return to their desk. I sat in that chair. Not as much as Lucy or Bobby did, but I sat there. We all did. It wasn’t really math class unless some poor kid, desperate, humiliated, and mocked by the teacher, broke down sobbing; Lucy was usually the first to break. But at some point, we all did.

Sister Jean Marie had supernatural reflexes. She could stop a hulking 12 year-old boy charging at a dead run with one hand and flip him around like a paper doll. I saw her do it. The kid’s name was was Biff (no, not really), and he was charging at me with evil intent. I can’t remember why, maybe it was a Tuesday. Sister plucked him neatly out the air with one hand and dropped him, meek and quivering, down in front of her. She spoke quietly, but firmly. It was at least a week before Biff bloodied my nose again–and never again anywhere near Sister Jean Marie. Not that I was a teacher’s pet, mind you. Sister Jean Marie was discipline incarnate, and running in the halls was simply not allowed. She didn’t care if I got beaten, so long as it was a neat and orderly beating… with no running.

I had her for homeroom in sixth grade too. Some mornings she’d come in with little pieces of toilet paper stuck to her chin and cheeks. I kid you not, the woman shaved. She was tall, maybe six feet and rail thin. Her hands were like vice grips and her stare was hot and furious. She was lighting quick and razor sharp. And she was old school; she wore the habit and the blue dress. Always. Some of the other nuns, like Sister Dee, wore the habit at school, but took it off when they went… wherever it is that nuns go. Hied back to the nunnery, I suppose. Sister Dee was fun. She taught religion and drove a black Firebird Trans-am (complete with giant decal). She called me “Red” for an entire year. Sister Jean Marie didn’t drive a car. We all figured that she lived in the cloakroom and ate spiders.

But she taught me math. I remember once I failed a quiz. As punishment, Sister Jean Marie told me to write out the names of all fifty States and their capitals. I didn’t do it. So she doubled it. “Write them all out twice.” I didn’t do it. “Double it.” This went on daily for some time. It was like a ritual, we’d all file into class and sit down. She’d read attendance, (Yes, that’s right. She’d read attendance. There was no calling out at any time in Sister Jean Marie’s class.) she’d double my punishment. The days wore on. It was a kind of math lesson. By the end of the year, my punishment was to write out the States and their capitals over 16 million times. I remember figuring it out with a friend. If I wrote one word a second, nonstop, 24-hours a day, everyday for fifty years, I still wouldn’t finish.

I learned more math in her class than in any math class I’ve ever taken. She scared it into us. She made us fear her like I imagine she feared God. Or as God feared her. She instilled in us a biblical, old-testament kind of fear. We quaked in her presence and we obeyed, and we did what she said and we learned the Law and we lived the Law. If she said to sit the corner, we sat in the corner. If she had told us to wander the desert for forty years, we’d have done that too.

My favorite High School math teacher was Miss P. Miss P was the nicest, kindest, sweetest teacher I ever had. She was about four feet, six inches tall tall and must have weighed eighty pounds soaking wet. She ran the math club and carried a pearl-handled single-shot .22 in her purse. She was the math teacher that made me like math. She made math fun, and she made it exciting and competitive and entertaining. Heck, I went on out-of-state math club trips with her; I looked forward to the annual math convention every year. I played inter-scholastic math games every Tuesday and I liked it. (We played On-Sets and Equations… I’d love to hear from anyone else who’s played these games!)

Miss P had taken high school math from Sister Jean Marie. She said the same thing everyone said, that she’d learned more in those classes than anywhere else. She also said she owed her life’s work to Sister Jean Marie. She said that after that class she’d never wanted to do anything but teach high school math.

I’m glad I had Miss P for math. And I’m happy that she’s still teaching; she runs the math department in my old high school. I’m sure that that Sister Jean Marie must have retired from teaching by now.

I think of my children and I think of their teachers. They’re all Miss Ps (packing less firepower) and Sister Mary Dees (without the hot ride). I haven’t seen any of their music teachers, male or female, stumble drunkenly down the street wearing a pink wig, stilettos and a wedding dress. There have been no reports of glass eyes or beehives. And there’s been nothing to compare to Sister Jean Marie. I’m very grateful for that. As much as there is that bothers me in modern pedagogy (the incessant, pointless testing; the political correctness; the lack of academic rigor), I am happy to consign the systematic humiliation and ridicule of eleven-year olds to history.

I haven’t seen Lucy or Bobby in well over 20 years; I hope they’re both well and happy and healthy.

And I don’t care how much math they learned.  They should not have had to deal with that.


Ages ago, when men were men and women were shorter, automobiles inspired the kind of unabashed allegiance and partisan fervor that we now reserve for computer operating systems. Entire families would align themselves behind a giant mega-conglomerate from Detroit and forswear ever buyin’, ridin’, fixin’, or otherwisen’ any so-called cars made by the competition. Dadgummit.

Ford clans would wage war on Chevy clans and Chevy clans would wage war on Chrysler clans, and so on and so on. Well, OK… “war” was hanging a sign with a pithy saying in the garage and maybe buying a pair of branded pair of fuzzy dice. And these were clans with a “c” not a “k.” White sheets were for chamois and not much else. Occasionally things would escalate when that no-good brother-in-law would show up for Thanksgiving in a car made by the Evil Competition, and Dad would mutter under his breath about the godawful indignity of it all until he passed out during the football game and the brother-in-law would change the channel.

In those days, Brothers-in-law were always no good bums and lousy moochers. It wasn’t until they passed of the Patsy T. Mink Equal Opportunity in Extended Families Act that Brothers-in-law were required to be given equal standing. The Act reads in part, “No person in the United States shall, on the basis of a sibling’s marital status, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination by any relation-in-law.”

Aficionados for the various car clans would rally in garages across the country and make up derisive and mocking jeers that they would hurl–always with great relish and while holding a warm can of PBR–at the competition. These jeers were always, always acronyms.

The wittiest (it’s a low bar) were always directed at Ford owners, Found On Road Dead, Fix Or Repair Daily, Ford Owners Recommend Dodge, Full Of Rust Deposits, For Old Retired Drunks, etc… GM came in for its share: General Maintenance, General Mistakes, Generally Malfunctions, and General Misery. But my favorite is one for Chevy: Can’t Have Everything Vern, YaknowwhatImean? Not only is it peculiarly specific, it’s also a wonderfully tortured acronym. Plus, my Grandfather’s name is Vern.

Foreign jeers? There really weren’t any. For a long time, no decent self-respecting American would buy a foreign car (except maybe someone’s no-good, lousy, mooching, bum of a brother-in-law). And by the time foreign cars actually started to become popular, creating an acronym that made sense was kind of hard. Toyota: Runs For a Long Time with Low Maintenance Costs.There’s just no zing to that. It doesn’t flow like Darn Old Dirty Gas Eater does.

Chrysler has recently tried to reinvigorate this lost sense of Americana with the attempted reinvigoration of pseudo-brands. “That thing got a Hemi, Bob? Why of course it does, Earl! I’d no sooner buy a truck without a Hemi than loan money to my wife’s no-account brother!” (So… I actually had to do some research on this one. “Hemi” means that the engine has hemispherical combustion chambers–I suppose instead of those pesky rhomboid chambers. It’s an engine style that was used in 1912 by… wait for it… Peugeot! Peugeot! They’re French!) Aside from insipid product placements in movies and television, “It’s got a Hemi!” doesn’t seem to have caught fire with the public. (Chrysler lost $2.9 billion in 2007. Peugeot made $2.7 billion in 2007.)

My Dad was a Chevy guy. Well, sorta. He has this really cool old 1947 Ford logging truck that’s pretty slick (looks like this). But it doesn’t run anymore. He had a lot of old Chevy trucks over the years too. Most of them ran sporadically. Except for the one with the Ooogah horn. (I loved that horn.) It was a 56 (or a 57 or 58… I can’t remember). It ran for a long time. Had a pinto wagon too. That doesn’t run anymore either–but it also didn’t blow up, which is suppose can be considered a positive in the Pinto. Mostly we were poor so whatever car was actually running was the one we rallied behind.

Me? We have a Jeep Cherokee and a Ford Contour. The Jeep is great. It’s a two-wheel drive Jeep (I know.) so it stinks in the snow, but otherwise it’s great. The Contour on the other hand…. well, it’s Dead in the Driveway right now. It was Dead on the Road a few hours ago, and it’s quite frequently in and out of the shop. It’s loud, it shakes like Lindsey Lohan in rehab if you push it past 45, there’s a broken seatbelt in the back, and it’s once lustrous silver (I’m assuming it was lustrous once) is now the color of dirty road slush ice. It’s a truly craptacular car.

But I’m no car-maker fanboy. If and when we go out to buy a new (heavily used) car from a reputable dealer (Jimbo’s CrazyLot), I’ll do my research and select the car that best matches the family’s needs (is cheap) regardless of who makes it (Yugo). In the meantime, I’ll reserve my allegiances for the contests that my generation finds compelling. I’ve even got some acronyms: Most Annoying Cult, Annoying People Playing with Little Electronics, Defunct Operating System, Vastly Inferior Software To Apple’s, and my personal favorite: Vastly Improved Solitaire Tiling Algorithms.

***Note: I realize that I seem to be picking on Lindsey Lohan a lot lately. Well, in the last two posts at any rate. I’d pick on other people, but the problem is that I need druggie references and I’ve become such an old man that I don’t really know who’s hip and with it (and consequently in and out of rehab) anymore. My wife thinks that the very fact that I use the words “hip” and “with it” means that I’m hopelessly “square.” I was tempted to go with Gary Busey yesterday… I mean, he must be on drugs, right? But he was too scary. Britney might be a druggie, but she also might be insane and, regardless, she just seems kind of sad now. Plus, with Lohan, there’s the added schadenfreude of watching a former child star (and the star of The Parent Trap, for goodness sake!) go all loopy–doin’ the Bonaducci as it were.

***Note: How about Patsy T. Mink joke! I was very proud. (I know, I know.) Look her up. It still won’t be very funny, but at least it will make sense.)


Would it be too corny to say that I give thanks for Thanksgiving? Probably.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It’s an American holiday and that’s cool. We live in the land of plenty and we know it. It’s also a capitalist holiday (or at the very least, it’s a celebration of the end of collectivist deprivation). Thanksgiving is secular too. Which means there’s no midnight mass, no morning mass, no afternoon mass, and no threat of a mass at any other time.

Thanksgiving is the start of the Christmas Season. I know that the malls and department stores have been in full Christmas swing since September, but Thanksgiving is when you can finally pull out your favorite Christmas CD without worrying about violent reprisal. And even though it’s the start of the Christmas Season, it has none of the pressure of Christmas; there are no presents to buy, there’s nothing to wrap, and the afternoon isn’t quite so boring. (One of my favorite lyrics of all time is, “And every day’s like Christmas Day without you. It’s cold and there’s nothing to do .”)

Plus, there’s lot’s and lot’s of really good food. It’s not Thanksgiving unless you can feed the square of the number of people at your table. And really, what’s better than sharing a meal with the people you love?

Thanksgiving has always been good to me. There have been few family fights and lots of good eats. Even when I was away at school or young and on my own, my friends and I would gather and we’d feast on what we could. We’d have Thanksgivings filled with dishes I’d learned growing up with my mother in New Orleans: shrimp Creole, crawfish etoufee, gumbo, and jambalya. The Thanksgiving meal is traditional for a reason; the ritualized menu reminds us of home and helps us remember. Even when I was thousands of miles from home, making a big pot of jambalya or etoufee helped bring a part of my family’s Thanksgiving to my table.

But it’s not always Creole and Cajun. I’ve made vegan mushroom paté, dozens of pecan pies, Thai spring rolls, and once I even made a lavish tortellini pie. It had meatballs, cheese, tortellini, a wonderful ragu bolognese, and a sweet custard. It turned out great and I loved it. Everyone else smiled and swallowed, but no one was as taken by it as I was. That was Thanksgiving in the Brown House in Portland. We called it the brown house because every ceiling, wall, and rail was brown wood. the floors were brown carpet. It was perpetually dark. You needed a flashlight to read in the living room. But it had a great stove.

We had a lot to drink at those Thanksgivings in Portland. They’re my “lost” Thanksgivings–holidays where we’d eat 12 pounds of turkey and drink 20 pounds of Beaujolais Nouveau. But they were all good days. I think. My memories are a bit hazy. We have photos, and everyone’s smiling, but you can’t tell what we ate for all the bottles on the table. One year we rented out the rec room in a friend’s apartment complex. Eric made six gallons of gumbo, and I made sweet-potato dim sum. We also had turkey, potatoes, cranberries and two cases of wine. There were 8 adults.

But I’m older and wiser and considerably more moderate now. I’ll be spending this thanksgiving with my wife’s family. There will be more than 20 of us. The chairs will be mismatched, the tables will be borrowed and crammed onto porches, and there will be games of touch football in the backyard. With any luck there will be a platter or two of deviled eggs. Of course, I’ll only have one or two. Now I drink less wine and worry more about cholesterol. But the dinner will be grand and the company will be better.

It will be my third Thanksgiving with Jamie’s family, and just my second with our kids. I know how much fun I’ll have, but I’ll still miss all of my family and friends that won’t be joining us. I’ll give my thanks and I’ll think aboutholidays gone by.

I remember the year of the bunnies.

My father lives in the Jemez Mountains in northern New Mexico. The house is halfway up a mountain with state forest on two sides and very distant neighbors on the others. It’s remote and beautiful and very pet friendly. The fish stay indoors, but the scores of cats and dogs are free to come and go as they please. My favorite dog of all time, Tucker, lived in that house for many years. Tucker was a mutt. He must have been mostly Collie and German Shepherd because he was full-sized, Shepherd colored, and had some Collie in his face. There must also have been a gutsy Dachshund somewhere back down the line, because his legs were only three inches long. He ran like an inchworm and he couldn’t jump into a truck without help, but he was as smart and loyal and loving as any dog ever was.

One year, now several years ago, my father had rabbits. I don’t remember how or why they came to live at the house, but they were there at Thanksgiving. As was I. It was a year I had made it home to family. Tucker had died years prior, and had been replaced by Todd and Chewbaca. Chewy is long gone, but Todd is still alive. Old and fat, he looks like a giant sausage that’s been stuffed into a dog costume.

My father had built pens in the garden by the house, and the bunnies lived very happily. They were, as bunnies must be, segregated by sex and so I presume they weren’t living as happily as they might have wished, but they seemed comfortable. And cute. And large and fat. They weren’t food bunnies; they were pet bunnies. And they were much loved by my little sister and brother.

On that Thanksgiving we had a traditional New Mexican spread: yams, cranberries, potatoes, stuffing, and green chile galore. And of course, we had a beautiful turkey. But as Ralphie Parker can well attest, all dogs — including the Bumpuses’ hounds — love turkey. So the dogs had been banished outside as the turkey was cooked, prepared, cooled and sliced.

We all sat down, and had just packed our plates… I’m sure I was just beginning to pour some gravy over my mounded pile of turkey goodness. My father had probably just finished singing along with the full version of Alice’s Restaurant; our meal had barely begun. We heard the mewling cries, and we wondered what they were. Then we heard the shrieks and we knew. Todd and Chewy were having a feast of their own. Apparently driven mad by turkey lust, they had finally found their way into the rabbit pen.

That Thanksgiving went to the dogs. But that’s as bad a Thanksgiving as I’ve ever had.

And I guess that’s my point. Thanksgiving is great because it’s simple. Get together. Eat. Laugh. Nap.

A bad Thanksgiving is spent alone in a box under an overpass. And thankfully, I’ve never been there. I have been blessed with such wonderful friends and such a wonderful family, my life is filled with joy and laughter and love. And that’s what I’m thankful for on the last Thursday in November and on every other day too.

Although I can’t sit down with everyone I love this Thursday, I’ll think of all of you as I say my thanks and pour my gravy.

Thanks to all of you for filling my life with wonder and joy.
May your Thanksgiving tables always be too crowded and your chairs mismatched.
May your turkey be large and brown with crispy skin and may your gravy be smooth and rich.
And may you always have one non-traditional dish–whether it’s a vegan tofu stew or a selection of fresh sushi.
May you drink and eat your fill, and may you nap peacefully after dinner.
May you play touch football in the fallen leaves and finally put on that Christmas music.
May you remember to tell everyone how much you love them.
May you always keep those you love close to your heart, no matter how far away they might live.

And may you keep your bunnies safe and warm.


After doing the Book post, I decided to do a movie post. So here’s what I’ve done. I took the American Film Institute’s Top 100 movies, and then their 2007 redux of that list. What I’ve seen is in bold. (No Italics, not finishing a movie doesn’t count for anything.) But the AFI list missed some great movies, so I compiled my own list (separated by a line of asterisks) that follows theirs.

The AFI list is in the order of the original list, with the 23 changes following the original 100 (the original list ends with Yankee Doodle Dandy). For my list, some of these are old favorites, some are recent and fresh in my mind. I don’t imply it to be a definitive “best of” list, just movies I liked and remembered. My additions are definitely NOT in any order.

On to the movies.

Citizen Kane

Great cinematography, but not the best movie of all time.


Fantastic. A truly great movie. Bergman is so beautiful and Bogart is the definition of cool. The best movie ever made.

The Godfather

This is a true classic. Great story, fabulous cast. The mob. What else is there?

Gone with the Wind

I don’t have any desire to see it. I know, it’s supposed to be great.

Lawrence of Arabia

I would like to watch this… I’ve rented it twice but I haven’t had time to watch the whole thing.

The Wizard of Oz

ehh… First movie ever made in color, I guess that counts for something.

The Graduate

ehh… very overrated.

On the Waterfront

ehh… it just doesn’t do it for me.

Schindler’s List

It’s very good. Ralph Fiennes is spectacular. It’s ending is contrived and over emotional, but by then the audience needs the catharsis. When I first saw this I watched it with a friend and her student, a little blond Jewish girl with round glasses. The red jacket in the wheelbarrow… it was tough to watch.

Singin’ in the Rain

It’s great. : D

It’s a Wonderful Life

I like it and I hate it. It’s economic message is awful but I love the way Jimmy Stewart refuses to help a naked Donna Reed.

Sunset Boulevard

The Bridge on the River Kwai

So, so, very great. Wrenching. But wow. Such great characters.

Some Like It Hot

Very, very funny. Very funny.

Star Wars

I was four. It was the greatest thing I’d ever seen. but Empire Strikes Back is better. Don’t talk to me about the others. They suck.

All About Eve

The African Queen

I actually don’t think the movie is so great, but the performances are magnificent.


This is great horror. Modern slasher films are pathetic.



One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

Jack, Nurse Ratchet and a big Indian.

The Grapes of Wrath

pure awfulness

2001: A Space Odyssey

The best space movie ever made.Yes, the ending is bizarre, but it’s a good movie.

The Maltese Falcon

Bogart is so, so cool

Raging Bull

Joe Pesci’s greatest role. DeNiro is Jake Lamotta.

E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial

oh so very, very treacly bad

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

Peter Sellers, Peter Sellers, and Peter Sellers. Also the first toilet flush in cinema history.

Bonnie and Clyde

Not just bad, but Warren Beatty bad.

Apocalypse Now

It’s overrated.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington

very very good. Treacly, but very good.

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre

Badges? We ain’t got no badges. We don’t need no badges! I don’t have to show you any stinkin’ badges!

Annie Hall

Good, but not Woody Allen’s best, not by a long shot.

The Godfather II

Best. Sequel. Ever.

High Noon

Gary Cooper rocks.

To Kill a Mockingbird

So, so great. Gregory Peck is just awe inspiring

It Happened One Night

Midnight Cowboy

The scene where the coconut falls out the window may be the saddest moment in film history.

The Best Years of Our Lives

Double Indemnity

just darn good movie making

Doctor Zhivago

So I finally rented this about a year ago. I put in the DVD and it starts on a train, and I’m watching, and I can’t figure out what’s supposed to hook me, and I don’t get the characters, and there’s no development, and I don’t care about anyone… turns out I put the second disc in first. Oy.

North by Northwest

just darn good movie making

West Side Story

ehh… Shakespeare is actually better. (Hard to believe, I know…)

Rear Window

Stewart’s only creepy role.

King Kong (1933)

Yeah, it’s OK. It doesn’t move me the way it moves other people. Although there is that topless Faye Wray scene…

The Birth of a Nation

talk about evil movies…

A Streetcar Named Desire

Vivien Leigh as Blanche. Brando as Kowalski. Greatest. Casting. Ever.

A Clockwork Orange

Freaky, freaky, freaky. But great.

Taxi Driver

DeNiro is so weirdly strange…. When he takes Cybill Shepherd to the movies… such a painful scene.


“I think we’re gonna need a bigger boat.”

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

Yes, it’s good. But nostalgia aside, Pixar’s stuff is better.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

It’s really not a great movie. It’s ok, but not great.

The Philadelphia Story

Hepburn, Stewart, and Grant. It’s everything a romantic comedy should be.

From Here to Eternity


The stage play is better, but the movie is still good. Although I really, really wish they had kept Tim Curry as Mozart.

All Quiet on the Western Front

Damn good war film.

The Sound of Music

Yes, it really is very good.


Overrated. The TV show ended up being better.

The Third Man


The soundtrack is great. The movie is an irritating distraction.

Rebel Without a Cause

This didn’t speak to me the way it did to some people.

Raiders of the Lost Ark

From Han Solo to Indiana Jones. Wow. Making Archeology cool and sexy is no mean feat. Only Indiana Jones and George Bey can do it.




A truly remarkable performance.


Good. The Searchers is better.

Close Encounters of the Third Kind

Overrated. Although every time I have mashed potatoes I think of this movie.

The Silence of the Lambs

Hopkins is overrated — Foster’s was the real performance.


The Manchurian Candidate

A great, great movie. Who knew Frank could be such a good actor?

An American in Paris


It’s ok. There are much better Westerns.

The French Connection

Good, but not all-time great. Started the cop/buddy genre.

Forrest Gump

I’ve seen so many clips, I think I’ve actually seen the movie.


WOW. But renting it is wrong, unless you have at least a 15 foot television screen.

Wuthering Heights

The Gold Rush

Dances with Wolves

A wrenchingly stupid movie.

City Lights

Really, really great. Magical.

American Graffiti

Whatever. Boomer nostalgia run amok. Lucas should stick to action.


It really is good. The sequels (except for the last) all stink, but the first is really very good.

The Deer Hunter

The Wild Bunch

They’re not good people. They’re really, really not.

Modern Times



It’s a very good movie.


One of the all-time greats? No.

Duck Soup

I just don’t get it….

Mutiny on the Bounty

Very good.


It’s OK. Bride of Frankenstein is the better movie.

Easy Rider

Boomer narcissism at it’s nadir, apex, whatever


Good, but too far too long.

The Jazz Singer

The first movie with sound.

My Fair Lady

Oh so very good. So very good.

A Place in the Sun

The Apartment


Not Liotta’s, nor Pesci’s, nor DeNiro’s, nor Scorsese’s best.

Pulp Fiction

Fun. : D

The Searchers

Morally ambiguous. Obsessive. Great movie.

Bringing Up Baby

Hepburn and Grant again. It’s a romp.


One of the best Western’s ever made. Truly great.

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

Oh, so amazingly fantastically wonderful.

Yankee Doodle Dandy

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

It’s really one long movie, and it should probably make the top 25, if not the top 10.

Saving Private Ryan

It’s really not that great a movie, but it has a great opening sequence.


The word is synonymous with expensive, spectacular, disaster. So is the movie. I know it made more money than the mint could print, but it’s a BAD movie.

The Sixth Sense

One of the greatest twists of all time.

The General




Sullivan’s Travels


Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?

The Shawshank Redemption

It’s so, so fabulously great. This is a wonderful, wonderful movie. I’ve never cared so much about a killer.

In the Heat of the Night

Poitier rocks.

All the President’s Men

More Boomer narcissism


Homo-eroticism at it’s most refreshingly innocent.


A Night at the Opera

12 Angry Men

An acting tour-de-force.

Swing Time

Sophie’s Choice

To say this is a great performance is like saying the Nazis were bad.

The Last Picture Show


Do The Right Thing

It’s a very, very good movie.

Blade Runner

Best Science Fiction movie ever made.

Toy Story

Good, but The Incredibles is better.


A Room With a View

Truth! Beauty! Love! Mr. Beebe, Lucy, George, Cecil…. I love it, I love it, I love it. I really, really love this movie. : D

Groundhog Day

It’s a great movie, if you haven’t seen it, rent it. Bill Murray and the worst day ever.

The Princess Bride

It’s one of the best adaptations ever made. Andre the Giant and Mandy Patinkin steal the show.

A Lion in Winter

Razor sharp dialog, Peter O’Toole in the performance of a lifetime alongside a riveting and amazing Hepburn. Plus Timothy Dalton when he must have been about 12 and Anthony Hopkins looking very, very young.


Such a good script.

The Incredibles

So much fun. : D

Notting Hill

I love this movie because the way Hugh Grant feels about Julia Roberts is the way I feel about my wife. : D

When Harry Met Sally

A sentimental favorite from High School. I still think it’s very funny.

The Long Kiss Goodnight

It’s a great thrill ride. If you haven’t seen it, you should.

Little Miss Sunshine

A recent fave. The metaphor of the bus is so apt.

Blazing Saddles

Maybe the funniest movie ever (it’s in the running), it just could not be made today.

Young Frankenstein

Worth watching just for the Puttin’ on the Ritz scene.

Hannah and Her Sisters

Woody Allen’s best movie.


Spectacular cinematography.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

If the AFI can put shlock like Easy Rider on the list for the Boomers, then Gen X can have Ferris.

The Breakfast Club

Judd Nelson’s flaring nostrils, Molly Ringwald’s pouty lips, Emilio Esteves’s blank stare and Anthony Michael Hall as… The Geek. It’s a bad movie, but it’s OUR bad movie.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

John Candy’s best performance.

A Christmas Story

Who doesn’t love this movie?

Sabrina (both versions)

Lifestyles of the Rich and Beautiful… both are very good romantic movies.

A Fish Called Wanda

I don’t really like Jamie Lee Curtis, but Michael Palin, Kevin Kline, and John Cleese are outstanding.

This is Spinal Tap

On a scale of one to ten, this one goes to eleven.

Raising Arizona

Nicolas Cage’s best role.

Animal House

A classic. Belushi is just grand.


Tom Hanks does a wonderful job. It’s a great fairy tale.

Harold and Maude

Sex between a teenage boy and a very old lady. It’s a fantastic, beautiful, wonderful, joyous movie. It really, really is.

Beverly Hills Cop

Eddie Murphy when he was funny.


What’s the greatest movie ever made? Caddyshack. What’s the worst movie ever made? Caddyshack 2.


Mary Poppins shows her boobs and everyone is gay. But it’s a great movie.


Funniest training camp movie ever. A blast. Incredible. Turn it off after they leave basic training. Seriously. Turn it off.


Michael Keaton is so brilliantly over the top.

The Jerk

Also in the running for funniest movie ever made. All I need is this chair. That’s all I need.

Bull Durham

Well, I believe in the soul, the cock, the pussy, the small of a woman’s back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days.

Hunt For Red October

Jack Ryan and Sean Connery. Under water. Classic cold-war thriller.

Apollo 13

It’s a great and it’s true.


It’s even greater and it’s still true.

The Color Purple

Whoopi Goldberg in one of the greatest performances of all time.

Barbarians at The Gate

Gotta Love Big Tobacco! : D

Thank You For Smoking!

No, really. Big Tobacco rocks.

A Raisin in the Sun

What happens to a dream deferred?

Searching for Bobby Fischer

Makes chess and obsessive parenting thrilling.


A gritty Amish cop drama, a barn raising, and Kelly McGillis. Now that’s good movie-making!


A taut suspense-filled drama. Harrison Ford does a great job.

L.A. Confidential

A throwback movie — it’s an homage to tinsel town, and it’s very, very good.


Scary. Very, very scary.

Marathon Man

Lawrence Olivier as the penultimate dentist. I hate dentists.

Little Shop of Horrors

Speaking of dentists… Steve Martin is grand, and it’s a riot of a movie.


Very creepy. A great psychological thriller.

Cash McCall

John Galt is named Cash McCall. James Garner was a stud.


Gibson’s Epic. It’s moving and bloody and funny and very, very well done.

Full Metal Jacket



The best Jane Austen movie ever made.

Pirates of the Caribbean

Johnny Depp in the role of a lifetime.

As Good as it Gets

Nicholson in a romantic comedy. And it works.

The Remains of the Day

It’s painful, it’s slow, it’s wrenching and it’s depressing. But it’s also very good.


Ted Danson and Isabella Rosselini in a wonderful romantic comedy.

Four Weddings and a Funeral

Andie McDowell is bad, terrifyingly awful. It’s still a very, very good movie.


An odd little movie, it’s quirky and great.

The English Patient

A spectacular movie with a moral: Don’t leave the woman you love to die alone in a cave.

Wings of Desire

A beautiful film. Transcendent.

City of Angels

It’s a kind of a remake of Wings of Desire. Very, very good in it’s own way.

Life is Beautiful

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

Shakespeare in Love

I think Stoppard’s screenplay is delightful.

Sliding Doors

I’m a sap when it comes to romantic comedies with a British flair. But I think this one is very good.

Cyrano De Bergerac

A classic.

Casino Royale

The new one. Bond the way he should be. Best Bond movie ever.

Fight Club

Brad Pitt is the best double fictional character ever.

Stranger Than Fiction

Will Farrell in an absolutely lovely movie. Maggie Gyllenhall is great.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail

…saved from almost certain temptation.

Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life

Every sperm is sacred.

Stand By Me

Based on The Body by Stephen King, it’s a great coming of age movie.

Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels

An absolute riot.

A Man for All Seasons

Integrity. Integrity. Integrity.


Terry Gilliam’s best work. Magnificent.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Quirky, wierd… refreshing and riveting.

Henry V (Branagh)

A great movie. A great play.

Chariots of Fire

They run. It’s still great.


Heroin is not cool.

Lost in Translation

Bill Murray in a quiet, subtle, wonderful film.

Cinema Paradiso

Oh so wonderful–a joyous movie.


A Japanese Western with a Japanese John Wayne and the quest for the perfect bowl of noodles. : D


Lyrical, magical, wonderful, moving, touching… it’s a delight.

The Full Monty

Laugh out loud funny, a classic “feel-good” movie

The Commitments

Irish Soul. Great Soundtrack — a great music movie.

My Left Foot

Daniel Day Lewis in a performance that defies description. Unbelievable — and inspirational too.

Educating Rita

It’s not often a movie can successfully dramatize the joy of learning… this one does.

Dirty Rotten Scoundrels

Steve Martin and Michael Caine in a romp.

The Sum of Us

A very young Russell Crowe as a gay man with an adoring father. A great movie about finding the joy in life.

Les Enfants Du Paradise

Made in secret during the Nazi occupation of Paris, this movie is breathtakingly beautiful.

Jean De Florette

A movie about property rights… and a French one at that!

Red, Blue, White

Krzysztof Kieslowski’s trilogy (the colors of the French flag) Each movie is excellent.

The Piano

Holly Hunter in the role in of her life.


A brilliantly funny and charming coming of age movie, this is fantastic.

Like Water for Chocolate

A great example of magical realism, this movie will make you hungry.

Strictly Ballroom

An absolute classic, this is one of the best Australian movies ever made.

Shall We Dance (Japan)

Inspired by Strictly Ballroom, it’s very Japanese, and very tender.

Belle Epoque

What a summer….

Finding Nemo

Very funny. Pixar is very good.


I know. It’s awful bad. But it’s so cheesy… I love it.

Austin Powers, Man of Mystery

Surprisingly funny and witty, Mike Meyers does a great job. Dr. Evil is an inspired character.

The Elephant Man

Tough to watch, but a good good movie.

The World According to Garp

So much was cut from the book, but it’s still a fine movie.

Ocean’s Eleven

So much better than the original…. it’s so much fun.

The Last Temptation of Christ

I never quite understood the religious objections to this tender and very loving portrayal of Jesus on the cross.

Driving Miss Daisy

Morgan Freeman and Jessica Tandy are both great actors. They’re so good, they got Dan Akroyd an Oscar nomination.

The X-men

One of the best comic-book adaptations. Hugh Jackman as Wolverine was perfect.


Tobey Maguire as Peter Parker… it’s a fun movie.

Walk the Line

The Man in Black. Cash. Great music, great movie. Reese Witherspoon is outstanding.

Cast Away

Tom Hanks and a bloody volleyball. It’s still a good movie.


Johnny Depp and Juliet Binoche… what else do you need?

Almost Famous

Kate Hudson is very, very attractive.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

The special effects are breathtaking. The ending is very Chinese, and very irritating.


Very, very funny.

Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World

Russel Crowe as Captain Jack Aubrey. It’s a good adaptation. I wish they’d make more.


It was oversold when it premiered, but it stands up well over time. It’s really a coming of age story.

Cinderella Man

Another Russell Crowe movie. He’s the next Mel Gibson. A great feel-good movie.

The Simpsons Movie

It’s a two-hour long episode. Well done.

Howards End

Snooty brits destroy love. Lavish and well done, it’s Forster’s counter-point to A Room with a View.

A Few Good Men

We all know the quote…. But for me, the real joy is watching Demi Moore and Tom Cruise on screen together. At times you can’t tell which is which.

The Harry Potter Movies

They’ve all been good. If you love the books, you’ll love the movies.

What’s Eating Gilbert Grape

A breakthrough performance by Leonardo Di Caprio, but Johnny Depp steals the show.

Good Will Hunting

Affleck and Damon deserved the Oscar for an excellent script. Van Sandt deserved an Oscar for getting that performance out of Affleck.

Joe vs. The Volcano

It’s the Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan movie you haven’t seen. A lovely fairy tale.

You’ve Got Mail

Predictable, formulaic, obvious, and utterly charming.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Delightful and original. A real pleasure.

The Addams Family

Raul Julia as Gomez Addams… it’s a truly great movie. Great.

The Truman Show

Jim Carey in his first serious role. Peter Weir directed… it’s a good movie.

Knocked Up

Surprisingly tender and serious. A very good little movie.

Edward Scissorhands

Johnny Depp in a fantastical fairy tale. Anthony Michael Hall as… the stud?????

Hamlet (Branagh)

Uncut, the movie is long, but Blenheim Palace is so gorgeous and the acting so exact, this is great Shakespeare

Romeo and Juliet
(The DiCaprio version)

Zefferelli’s version is good, but it lacks bite and style, which the play clearly has. Despite its shortcomings, this is the better Shakespeare.

Books, books, and more books

I got this meme from the Philosophy Blog.

1. Bold what you have read.
2. Italicize what you started but couldn’t finish.
3. Add the books that should be on the list, but aren’t.
4. Add lots of comments.

OK, so I added those last two rules. How can you have The Silmarillion and The Hobbit on the list but not include The Lord of the Rings? It’s absurd. I added a bunch. A short line of asterisks follows my additions.

Possession (Beautiful, gorgeous, moving, lyrical… I love it)

The Lord of the Rings (Tolkein created a genre. Aside from Homer, how many authors can claim that?)

Harry Potter (1-7) (I’m still sad it’s over.)

The Wheel of Time (The author died last month, so the end of the series is in some doubt.)

To Kill a Mockingbird (The greatest American novel ever written.)

The Great Gatsby (I read it in school with predictable results; I hated it.)

A Room with a View (One of my all-time favorites. Truth! Beauty! Love!)

The Princess Bride (Wonderful. Funny and heart warming and intelligent.)

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress (It’s the standard bearer for libertarian fiction. I think that says it all — both the good and the bad.)

Smilla’s Sense of Snow (I really like this, despite it’s rather weird ending.)

Animal Farm

Gone With the Wind (I’ve never seen the movie either.)

Lord of the Flies (This is one of those books that I’m sure I’ve read, but I can’t remember actually reading it…)

A Passage to India

Heart of Darkness (watching Apocalypse Now doesn’t count)

The World According to Garp

The Cider House Rules

A Prayer for Owen Meany (I loved Garp, and I finished The Cider House Rules, but Owen left me cold.)

Stranger in a Strange Land

The Stand (The ending sucks, but the journey is amazing.)

It (Freaky clowns scare the beejepus out of me.)


The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Monty Python in book form.)

On the Beach

The Sun Also Rises

Women in Love (For a long time I really wanted to like D. H. Lawrence; I don’t.)

The Trial (Another school assignment. I rarely finished those… even when I liked the book)

As I Lay Dying (School strikes again)

The Tin Drum (School strikes again)

The Tropic of Cancer (as with Lawrence, I really wanted to like Miller.)

Fahrenheit 451

Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret (Judy Bloom rocks)

Naked Lunch (“I can think of at least two things wrong with that title.”)

The Big Sleep (Another author that created a genre.)

The Maltese Falcon

Never Let Me Go (I liked it… very soft and VERY creepy, but moving.)

Remains of the Day

The Red Badge of Courage (I know I read it, but it was so long ago…)

The Spy Who Came in From the Cold

The Hunt for Red October (It’s better than the movie, and the movie is great.)

The Dark Knight (Batman like he’s meant to be.)

Watchmen (Gotta love Rorschach)

Invisible Man (I was 14. I thought it was science fiction. I should pick it up again.)

Uncle Tom’s Cabin (I know, I know…)

The Stranger (Existentialists don’t make for easy reading.)

Bonfire of the Vanities (Ugh… I thought it was irritating)

The Right Stuff (I love it.)

Things Fall Apart

The Way of All Flesh (I bet it’s not as sexy as I hope…)

The Wizard of Oz (Saw the movie)

Little Women (I’m a guy.)

Tom Sawyer (I read it when I was eight or nine… something about Becky and Tom in that cave excited me.)

Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Wow. Maybe it’s tie with To Kill a Mockingbird.)

Charlotte’s Web (I read it maybe 12 times. Cried every time.)

The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe (I HATED this book. I’m using the word “hate” here.)

James and the Giant Peach (the bugs creeped me out)

Mrs. Frisby and The Rats of Nimh

The Little House Books (I’m a guy.)

Remembrance of Things Past (I’ve never tacked Proust, should I?)

Tom Jones (It’s not unusual…)

The Wings of the Dove

Brideshead Revisited


The Hound of the Baskervilles


Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (What? Who?)

Anna Karenina (Ugh.)

Crime and Punishment (I hated it. I’ve never liked Tolstoy or Dostoevsky even a little bit. Chekov, I liked. He was funny.)

Catch-22 (One of my all-time favorite, laugh-out loud funny books.)

One Hundred Years of Solitude

Wuthering Heights

The Silmarillion (It’s like a SNL skit that goes on WAY too long.)

Life of Pi: a novel

The Name of the Rose (It’s a hard slog, but it’s very good.)

Don Quixote

Moby Dick (Sad, I know. Call me uncouth.)

Ulysses (I didn’t understand it, but I read it!)

Madame Bovary

The Odyssey

Pride and Prejudice (I always get this, Emma, and Sense and Sensibility confused)

Jane Eyre

A Tale of Two Cities

The Brothers Karamazov

Guns, Germs, and Steel: the Fates of Human Societies

War and Peace (Nobody’s actually finished it. Nope. You’re lying.)

Vanity Fair (no, not the magazine)

The Time Traveler’s Wife (A beautiful, moving, tender book.)

The Iliad

Emma (See Pride and Prejudice, above)

The Blind Assassin

The Kite Runner (Wrenching)

Mrs. Dalloway (Who?)

Great Expectations (Nobody should ever read this. Even for school.)

American Gods (Overrated)

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius (How can it not be overrated?)

Atlas Shrugged (What can I say?)

Reading Lolita in Tehran: a memoir in books

Memoirs of a Geisha



Wicked : the life and times of the wicked witch of the West (It got tiring, and let’s face it. We all know how it ends.)

The Canterbury Tales (Who’s read ALL of them? What’s the point? My high school English teacher only did the bawdy tales. It led to a classroom discussion on oral sex–at which point the school chaplain walked in. Good times…)

The Historian: a novel

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

Love in the Time of Cholera

Brave New World

The Fountainhead

Foucault’s Pendulum (It’s literally impossible to read all of it.)


Frankenstein (not as good as you hope it is)

The Count of Monte Cristo (What a book!)


A Clockwork Orange (saw the movie though…)

Anansi Boys

The Once and Future King

The Grapes of Wrath (Assigning books like this in school is why people don’t read.)

The Poisonwood Bible: a novel (I’m a guy)

1984 (Orwell was a stud)

Angels & Demons (It’s really not good.)

The Da Vinci Code (This isn’t good either.)

The Inferno

The Satanic Verses

Sense and Sensibility (Which one is this again?)

The Picture of Dorian Gray

Mansfield Park

One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest (I read this when I was 12. Freaked me out.)

To the Lighthouse

Tess of the D’Urbervilles

Oliver Twist

Gulliver’s Travels

Les Misérables (I can’t believe I read the whole thing…)

The Corrections

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay (Not as good as it keeps promising)

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time (I’m intrigued)

Dune (The first is great, they get progressively worse very quickly)

The Prince (It’s not as evil as people want you to think)

The Sound and the Fury

Angela’s Ashes: a memoir

The God of Small Things

A People’s History of the United States: 1492-present (Awful, awful book.)

Cryptonomicon (what about the Necronomicon?)


A Confederacy of Dunces

A Short History of Nearly Everything


The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Beloved (Oy. Is there anything more irritating?)


The Scarlet Letter

Eats, Shoots & Leaves (I didnt Finnish because i no possession the book]

The Mists of Avalon

Oryx and Crake : a novel

Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed

Cloud Atlas (I’m reading it right now. Slow going though…)

The Confusion

Lolita (One of my favorites. Creepy, but the language is great.)


Northanger Abbey

The Catcher in the Rye (I hated it.)

On the Road

The Hunchback of Notre Dame

The Man Who Laughs (Still trying to find a translation)

Freakonomics: a Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden Side of Everything

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance : an Inquiry into Values

The Aeneid

Watership Down (Bunnies!)

Gravity’s Rainbow

The Hobbit

In Cold Blood : A True Account of a Multiple Murder and Its Consequences

White Teeth

Treasure Island

David Copperfield

The Three Musketeers


This is a Cajun Jambalya, with just the barest of a nod to the Creole tradition. I like Creole Jambalaya (with tomatoes and seafood), but Cajun is my favorite.

I made this today for my mother-in-law’s birthday party. It’s my most requested dish for family gatherings; it came out very well today.

1 1/2 pound high quality smoked pork sausage (a good quality kielbasa is acceptable), chopped
1 pound andouille sausage (if you really can’t find good andouille, you can use chorizo), sliced into 1/8 inch pieces
1 pound ham, chopped into small cubes (use tasso if you can find it)
1 pound chicken (boneless and skinless — thigh meat is best, but I often use 1/2 breast and 1/2 thigh)
1 pound shrimp, peeled and cleaned, with their tails left on.
1 large onion, diced
1/4 cup celery rib,
chopped small
1/4 cup bell pepper, chopped small
2 tablespoons garlic, minced
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
1 tablespoon thyme
1/2 tablespoon basil
3 bay leaves
1/2 tablespoon black pepper
1/2 tablespoon white pepper
5 1/2 cups chicken stock
3 cups long-grain rice

— Salt and cayenne to taste. Depending on the heat of the andouille/chorizo, whether or not you use tasso, and the saltiness of your sausage, you’ll need to use more or less salt and cayenne.

Heat a heavy Dutch oven on high and add the ham. After the ham browns, add the sausage and brown in batches. As the sausage browns, remove with a slotted spoon and add another batch. You shouldn’t need to use any additional oil, as the sausage should render plenty as it browns. Be careful not to burn the sausage — if you do burn the meat, the jambalaya will end up bitter.

When the ham and sausage have finished browning, brown the chicken. Don’t overcook the chicken, or it will shred. Remove chicken.

Lower the heat and add the onion. Saute until onions while scraping up the brown bits from the meat. Saute until the onions are soft and brown and just beginning to carmelize. Add the celery and bell pepper and saute 4 or 5 minutes. Add the garlic and saute for just one minute (Garlic burns very easily, you just want to sweat it). Add 1 cup of the stock and scrape all the tasty little brown bits from the pot. Add the thyme, bay leaves, basil, pepper and meat and simmer. Continue scraping the brown bits up — that’s where the color and flavor live! Continue simmering until stock is gone. This is where I do most of my tasting. The flavors should be pretty gigantic at this point, remember, we still have to add the rice!

Add the rest of the stock and bring to a boil. Add the rice, reduce the heat to medium, and gently turn the rice. After a couple of minutes, add the parsley. Turn the rice once or twice to ensure that no rice sticks to the pot. When the pot begins to boil, reduce heat to low, toss in the shrimpies and simmer, covered, for at least 25 minutes. Do not remove the cover while the rice is steaming.

DO NOT remove the cover. AND DO NOT STIR.

Don’t do it! I’m telling you, don’t lift that lid and don’t stir that pot.

Get your hand out of there! Did you stir that rice? You did, didn’t you!

When the jambalaya is done, remove from heat, turn the rice and meat to mix everything up again and serve!