The Sunday Thought

I have a Shell Gasoline Card that I use and pay off each month.
However, this month Citibank, who backs the card sent me a letter saying they were raising the interest rates to 30%.

There's only been one time when I was late on a payment. I grudgingly paid the interest, and also the entire balance. Since then, I've never always paid it on time and in full.
Anyway, I've decided to close this account, and just go back to cash.
I hate interest payments. Besides, credit card companies make scads of money from not only the consumer but also from the vendor. They won't miss my money.

Hence, my thought that no interest payments is the new sexy.
Tomorrow, back to writing about writing on this blog.

The Soloist by Steve Lopez

Last year, in the Los Angeles Times, columnist Steve Lopez chronicled his accidental fall into the life of a homeless man who played Beethoven, Saint Saëns, Mozart and Brahms on a battered violin while standing near a tunnel in downtown Los Angeles. Lopez's column became the number one read for me, so engrossing was his account of his friendship with a man the world will get to know, former Julliard student, cellist, and schizophrenic, Nathaniel Anthony Ayers.

..."settling again onto the Driftwood Dairy crate with his legs wrapped around the cello. His first offering is a Beethoven cello sonata, and this drab concrete corner of downtown Los Angeles, with its nearby settlement of bug-bitten denizens and moving clouds of noxious vehicle exhaust, is transformed into a place of lilting repose."

Hence, the phrase, "Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast," comes into play. Music as a retreat from the voices raging in Nathaniel's mind. This former prodigy, whose brilliance was witnessed by those at the finest music school in the nation, now spends his days playing music in public, sleeping on the streets of skid row, pushing his worldly possessions in a shopping cart.

This is as much a story about Lopez's journey into the world of mental illness and how what he learns affects him. It's the story of a journalist's world being opened up by meeting a man who --for all his setbacks, intimately understands the one thing that matters to him. Lopez goes through all the stages every family member does: hope, despair, regret, rejection, and always --confusion. As he becomes involved in Nathaniel's life, Lopez discovers the differences in psychiatric and therapeutic approaches, is given a stiff lesson on how the political machinery gives and takes away services for the mentally ill, and how such involvement strains all aspects of a caregiver's life.

Lopez has the ability to grab the reader from the very first page with little fanfare or sentimentality. His style of story telling --sharply focused, devoid of extraneous details that would muddle the telling of, is one that so many non-fiction writers aspire to, but often fall short. Here, the reader is immersed in this world from page one --from Lopez's tentative efforts to befriend Nathaniel, to Nathaniel's gradual move from the street to an apartment, and the efforts of musicians from the L.A. Philharmonic at the Disney Concert Hall. The Soloist is a book that will make you think about those you see on the street, and wonder why we as a society allow the mentally ill to stay entrenched without a hook.

And here's the best: it's been made into a movie. But do read the book first!

Beautiful Boy By David Sheff

Beautiful Boy by David Sheff is precisely the type of book you're thankful Costco carries, so that it can be purchased by the masses. This honest and well written account of his son Nic's meth and alcohol addiction is one that all parents should read.

Thousands of families struggle secretly, not sharing this all consuming tragedy with anyone. Whether it's anorexia, bipolar, substance abuse or other self-destructive behaviors, parents who cope share many of the same feelings. Despair, the long term effects of living with irrationality, anger and grief. If for any other reason to read this book, it's to know that you are not alone.

A writer by profession, Sheff' is introspective without the typical woe-is-me hankie wipes or gee,-aren't-I-such-a-martyr parent. You read how it's affected him, and Nic's much younger brother and sister as well. What's enjoyable is the fine way Sheff writes about his emotions. It's in the finely written details that drive home what he misses, what enrages him, and the reality he could lose him.
"We do not talk about Nic. It's not that we're not thinking about him. His addiction and its twin, the specter of his death, permeate the air we breathe."
and

...if he were to die, or for that matter, if he stays high, I would live on --with that crack. I would grieve I would grieve forever. But I have been grieving for him since the drugs took over --grieving for the part of him that is missing."

Driveway in Pt. Reyes Station, CA

Nic has 18-month periods of sobriety, then relapses numerous times. Nic moves to L.A. to be closer to his mother, only coming back home for short visits. When he's sober, it's always tenuous and hopeful. When he's not, he comes back to steal. Though life goes on, Nic is always on Sheff's mind. Pt. Reyes Station is filled with memories of his son. Here he is on an outing with his younger son, Jasper.

"... there's an astonishing swath of shocking pink flowers, exotics left over from a long-abandoned garden: pink ladies, pink like cotton candy. We sit there quietly, listening to a birdsong and wind in the leaves. Suddenly I am flooded with déja vu. I have been here before. Sitting on this same log. But with Nic."

The beauty where they live haunts Sheff. Memories of how things were are a sharp contrast to how his son lives now: crack houses in Oakland, garbled phone messages, break-ins, and even stealing from his little brother. This is what all parents grieve over --how good things used to be, and how things could be. For a parent never loses sight of that kernel of goodness they know is deep inside their child. Sheff debunks the cliché that people have to hit bottom before they get better. With the addict, there is no bottom. What Sheff finds out is that the descent is quick, and not a long tumbling fall. It's the dragging along the bottom that seems to be sadly permanent.
This book will be a help to many.

His son, Nic Sheff, has also written his account in the book "Tweaked."


David Sheff, photo by Bart Nagel

Get Lost With Easy-Writer

This is a direct archive for reviews I've written for the Los Angeles Times Pressmen on my blog, Easy-Writer. It's set up so that you don't have to do a search through all the archives over there. I write about books that I think they'd like to read.

First of all, read some guidelines that I try to use.

The links will be on the sidebar and will take you directly to the review itself. When I write a review I don't give away plot, I tell what works, what makes the writing strong, what thoughts it evoked.

My tastes are fairly eclectic. You will find short reviews to old books, new books, soon to be released books. It reflects wherever my brain is at the moment. I might be voraciously seeking all books by a particular author or topic. Some books might be out of print, but worth knowing about and also a good read. With only five major publishers and with Amazon and two major booksellers dominating the U.S. market, this means that only a fraction of what's in print is being reviewed, sold or remembered. So reviewing a great out of print book helps expand the world of literature. In addition, I really enjoy books from small, high quality literary presses. Gray Wolf, El León, to name just two. If you are a writer with a book coming out from one of these preses, give me a shout out. I also review movies, art exhibits.

As on my blog, you'll find the topics run the gamut: from my dogs to politics; from movies to current events.

Currently, I am also part of the writers group, The Writerly Pause. You'll find interviews with writers written by my colleagues and myself.
Enjoy!

If you want to get ahold of me, just leave me a message on my usual blog, Easy-Writer.