nonamedufus

How he came to be here he wasn't quite sure. He hadn't set out to be here. He was out for a drive with Dad and before he knew it here he was. It was like he had been on auto-pilot, something instinctive or automatic that had driven him here. He laughed at his own pun because actually it had been him that had been doing the driving. And it was an automatic. But it had all been a blur. Which wasn't good if he'd been behind the wheel. Nevertheless all seemed to have gone well because here he was, all in one piece. "Well done" said his passenger, a portly middle-aged fellow. He jumped. Just where had the passenger come from and where was his Dad? "I think you've passed with flying colours" said the passenger. "It's not everyone that passes on the first try". "Passes?" he echoed. "Your driver's test son. Your driver's test" "Oh my God" he blurted. "If I can drive like that with

You know, I think I'm quickly becoming a grumpy old man. My wife says so. I've reached the point where, just to warn her in a conversation I preface my outburst with "I'm gonna go to grumpy old man mode here..." and then let fly. I confess it's an affliction. I was never like this in my younger days. But now? Now I've got a word or two about almost anything. And don't get me started on today's so-called popular music or Quebec political party leaders. But what am I talking about? Like when you're driving down the street and the car in front of you abruptly turns, no signal, no warning. So I shout to my vacant vehicle interior "Hey, there's a little stick on your driving shaft. It's called a bloody blinker. I'm dying here!" Same when some joker in a fancy car parks himself in the passing lane going 5-10 miles an hour under the speed limit. "Hey, move outta the passing lane where, you know, people are suppos

So here I am in the middle of the month, instead of the end of the month, talking about books. One book actually. A kind woman got hold of me on Twitter and asked me if I'd like a review copy of something called Hell Toupee. With the number of books I buy a month I jumped at the chance of reading something for free. And that worked both ways. I wasn't payed for this review (hint, hint). So we switched e-mails and I let her know my address. She told me it was by Mitch Friedman. I confess after I heard "Mitch" I was certain this was Mitch Albom 's latest book. You know, the author of Tuesday's With Morry, The Five People You Meet in Heaven? When I opened the package I had received I learned the book was by some guy called Friedman. Oh, well, I'll get to it after I finish the latest Dismas Hardy Detective novel The Fall. This was nothing like that, although maybe in one way, that they were both about the search for truth. In the Dismas Hardy piece th

Well, we've turned the page on another month - an apt turn of phrase for a post about books, eh? It was a busy month, so let's get right to it. Of the 10 books I got through in May, 6 were detective novels, including 3 about two Dutch police detectives, one about a Swedish detective and another about a Norwegian cop. Throw in the eighth Jack Reacher novel and the latest from R.J. Ellory and I can tell you I've seen a heck of a lot of crime this month. Highlights? There were many. Andy Weir's tale about an astronaut who gets left behind on Mars was very well written and takes the reader through the predicament with wit and subtle humour. Rick Wakeman's Grumpy Old Rock Star provided a glimpse of the varied musical career of the fella probably best known as the keyboardist for Yes. And Wakeman can be a very funny guy. This was a quick and  enjoyable read. The Grijpstra and de Gier series was a delightful new find in the style of Nesbo or Menkell, except the