Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

Books

I visited the bookstore a few weeks back -- before we left for San Francisco -- for some reading material. It's a long plane ride there and back -- plus a two-and-a-half hour layover in Las Vegas on the way there and a three hour layover in Midway (Chicago, not Hawaii) on the way back.

I thought long and hard about what I should bring with me. Fluff fiction for the plane ride isn't a good idea because one never knows who might plop down in the empty seat on the right or left (the composer John Williams, for instance).

I decided to do a little research, considering I was going to California -- not that California's people aren't a friendly sort, they are usually stranger than fiction, from everything I've heard.

I visited Barnes & Noble and had a hard time locating the tome I wanted for the trip; so I stopped a bookish-looking man with a nameplate on his breast pocket, and I asked him, "I'm wondering where I can find The Zombie Survival Guide?

He looked me down, then up, then said, apparently satisfied that I was not undead, "That's in Humor."

I looked to my left because I thought I noticed some movement, then looked back at Kraig K., according to his nameplate (probably had a brother Kristopher and a sister Karoline, and I wonder if they wore glasses, too), and intoned, "I don't see what's funny about it."

And then he replied, obviously knowing that I was serious, "You're right. That title is in the special zombie end-cap at the end of that row."

Read the synopsis if you don't believe me!

Synopsis

The Zombie Survival Guide is your key to survival against the hordes of undead who may be stalking you right now. Fully illustrated and exhaustively comprehensive, this book covers everything you need to know, including how to understand zombie physiology and behavior, the most effective defense tactics and weaponry, ways to outfit your home for a long siege, and how to survive and adapt in any territory or terrain.

* * * (This is the punctuation lawyers use when they don't want the judge to know the stuff in between the first part of the quoted material and the stuff that follows the asterisks because it is usually not helpful to their case and most likely highly damaging, but they have forgotten that judges are also lawyers and know that old lawyer trick.)

Don’t be carefree and foolish with your most precious asset—life. This book is your key to survival against the hordes of undead who may be stalking you right now without your even knowing it. The Zombie Survival Guide offers complete protection through trusted, proven tips for safeguarding yourself and your loved ones against the living dead. It is a book that can save your life.

See? Life-saving.

Well, anyway, we (you know, over there, the woman on the right side of the screen, looking out, that is -- on your left -- amazing how it all depends on one's point of view) flew on Southwest Airlines; and being totally inexperienced party plane people, we were in the "C" group -- C 60 was printed on my boarding pass, actually -- so, we boarded in the last group called -- I think she said something about "suckers," but I'm not really sure because of all the shouting and singing. The party attendant started to close the booby hatch as I, the last passenger, was boarding the plane; so, I got that middle seat, in no man's land, the part of the plane that usually cracks open, spilling all the passengers out into the cornfield, between the extreme-super-unlimited-heavyweight body builder with the yellowish tank top over a 68-inch bumpy chest and glistening arms that violate obscenity laws in some jurisdictions, Cincinnati, for sure, blocking the window, and the 60-something upswept, black-haired woman with the overly plumpified lips, stretch-Lycra-tight skin, and low-cut, glittery t-shirt exhibiting her polished-granite breasts sitting in the aisle seat.

He, monolithic man, quickly fell asleep, leaning -- well, it couldn't really be categorized as leaning against the window because I was unwillingly leaning toward the aisle and the nice lady in the aisle seat. She was asking me where I was staying in Vegas, and how I needed to go to the Bellagio, and I don't want to recall anything else -- and then she was going to reach up and turn on the air nozzle, but stopped because -- well, because I didn't let her because she was too close to me, what with the Incredible Hulk's younger white brother using up most of the middle row with one of his huge fucking forearms. And she said thanks, then she started to reach up to push the button for the light. What, she couldn't ask me to turn on her light, and why did she need the light on? After all, I turned on the air nozzle, and she had nothing in her hands she needed any light to see. I reached up and turned on her light switch, just to avoid problems.

And she said, "Oh, my own personal valet," in a sickeningly sweet, but cigarette-affected, modulated voice, made several notes higher because of the valium she took before boarding. I was guessing that she anticipated some witty reply.

I reached down; and from the outside pocket of my messenger bag, I pulled out The Zombie Survival Guide and said, "Research."

She was quiet the rest of the flight.

See?

Posted by Bill at September 12, 2008 08:51 AM