As you can imagine, I get the electronic version of
heaps of
mail (Kilobytes? Megabytes? Brownie Bites?) weekly, from topics as
far-reaching as shaping, to why isn't my board ready yet, and what the
hell do you mean you went to Baja and left my board at the glasser, and
why haven't you called your mom in a month, and how come there's a
credit card charge for a movie called
The DaVinci Load?
Anyhoo, I
treat these correspondence as I treat all of my business dealings: with
respect, dignity, and the occasional impulse to post them online so that
all 37 (got another blog hit last Tuesday!) of you can enjoy.
I present to you the HHG Mail Bag, Summer Reading Edition!
And a new surfboard for local shredder Chip.
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| Chip's 7'Something" Frankenfish |
Dear HHG, I just finished reading Chad Harbach's best-seller
The Art of Fielding
and was kind of underwhelmed. However, I don't trust my instincts.
First, it's on the bestseller list. Second, there's like fifteen pages
of positive reviews before the book even begins PLUS an author interview
at the end Also, the cover has cool font and is very patriotic. All of
these must add up to an amazing reading experience, right? Is it me? Are
my tastes slipping?
LitSlip in Leucadia
LitSlip,
if you're asking me for assistance, your tastes are already
questionable. However, with regard to Mr. Harbach's novel, you must
stand strong with your opinions. What would have happened if
Hindenburg
captain Ernst Lehmann hadn't stood strong in his belief that his
zeppelin airship could be safely docked at Lakehurst Naval Air Station
in New Jersey during an electrical storm with strong headwinds in a
flammable aircraft packed with combustible gasses? How would history
have been changed had flygirl Amelia Earhart not stood firm on her
opinion that an equatorial around-the-world flight plan would be a piece
of cake? What would have happened if I had not taken an unwavering stand with the lovely
Mrs. HHG that there would be 'no consequences whatsoever' in allowing
each of our young girls to eat an entire bag of dried cherries during
our recent sixteen-hour drive back from Mexico?
More
Frankenfish!
Dear HHG,
on
a recent surf trip to Baja with a few other couples I noticed an
interesting phenomenon with the ladyfolk: there would be hushed
whispering, a stifled giggle or two, the sounded of a blender motor, a
concealed exchange, and then one would disappear. Several days later she
would reappear in search of more margaritas, and the phenomenon would
begin again. What gives?
Gray Curious in Carlsbad
Gray Curious, your instincts serve you well: E.L. James'
Fifty Shades of Grey is wholly responsible for these behaviors, which can circulate through select populations with a cyclical regularity. Remember
The Bridges of Madison County?
Overall, this clandestine literary pursuit is far preferable to what
the less-fair sex does with their gender-isolated pursuits: jumping off
things. Farting on things. Football.
 |
Four Wings+Four Fins=Sixty-Four Times the Radness
|
Dear HHG, Should I read
Atlas Shrugged?
Randy in The Tenderloin.
Randy, please read
Atlas Shrugged
if you hate humor and self awareness, and love drawn-out 'moral'
justifications for self-interest and greed! Also, read if you enjoy
hundreds of pages of white men giving speeches about their importance,
predictable characters, and d-bags approaching you with their own
half-baked, semi-racist, self-serving economic theories. Also read if
you love boring shit in general.
Don't get me wrong, Randy. I love
bad writing as much as the next person--culture snobs, as a whole, are
a
paranoid and miserable bunch, and act as if the rest of the world is the
same
way. Screw those guys! Read books about sports stars bitchin' cars and
celebrity
marriages gone bad and murder mysteries that are also love stories that
turn into feel good road trips with vampire-hunting ex presidents.
There is joy in that stuff, and that's what reading is all about.
And summer.
And Chip's new 7-foot-Something-inch surfboard.
