Well Read

I love to read. Ever since I can remember, I’ve loved a good book

I’d like to think I’m well read, but I don’t know if the term technically applies to me, at least in terms of the standard definition. The literary classics don’t hold much interest for me. But I have stacks and stacks of books, of all different types, may of which I have read three or four times. What do I like? James Clavell’s Asian Saga. Michener, back in the day. Ludlum. Michael Crichton. Ray Bradbury. Frank Herbert (and the books Brian co wrote, but they strike me as potboilers). Many that I can’t name off the top of my head. Right now I love the Reacher novels by Lee Child and the John Rain books by Barry Eisler.

I also try to keep up with the Wall Street Journal, Business Week, B2B Marketing, and Sports Illustrated.

Not to mention your blogs. Each and every one of you.

Nerd admission – my parents bought my sister and me a set of printed encyclopedias when we were kids. I used to take a volume and read it, almost cover to cover, until I had read virtually the whole set.

As it happens, MBW also enjoys reading. We don’t share many of the same reading topics, but we both love to read. Right now on her nightstand is Janet Evanovich Eleven on Top.

Nerd admission #2 – when we were dating, MBW and I occasionally scheduled ‘reading dates’ where we’d get together at my place, build a fire, snuggle up on the couch and…read.

Well, for a little while, anyway.

And now, as parents, we understand the importance of reading to our kids. Mostly so they will be prepared when they begin school, but also with the fervent hope they, too, will grow up with the joy and love of reading.

So we read to our kids every day. Depending on the day, the weather, and what else is going on, we’ll read to them here and there throughout the day. But for sure, every night, the bedtime ritual includes climbing onto our bed, with either Mom or Dad in between Chris and Tommy, snuggled under the covers, reading.

As luck would have it, a branch of the County library is less than a mile from our home. When the weather is nice we’ll pull Chris and Tommy in the wagon over to the library to pick out some books. The limit on the number of books for any individual library card is 30. Between the two of us, we’ve had, on occasion, 60 kids’ books out at any one time.

Reading to the boys was a whole new experience for me. The only books I remember from my childhood days as a kid are the classics – Dr. Seuss and Curious George. I think I recall a book about Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel. But that was about all I remembered.

Today the books for kids are, shall we say, different.

I’m guessing children’s books are Big Business. How else would you explain the ‘Counting Fish’ featuring the Pepperidge Farms Goldfish? The book, with thick cardboard pages, has little indentations where you are supposed to place the Goldfish crackers. Of course, you have to buy the Goldfish crackers separately. Each page has a space for one more goldfish, and some dopey rhyme that is nominally supposed to teach counting. The only thing it teaches Chris and Tommy is to eat what they call the ‘Fishy Crackers.’

There’s something fishy about that, all right.

There’s a book just like that for Kellogg’s Froot Loops, featuring Toucan Sam. In his book there ace little indentations for the Froot Loops cereal pieces. You’re supposed to put the cereal pieces in the indentations as you go along, again, to help you ‘learn to count.’ What a great idea – let’s see how much sugar coated cereal we can eat RIGHT BEFORE BEDTIME.

Even so, that book is not as bad as the one for Nabisco Oreo Cookies. Same concept. An even better idea. If you do each page, 1 through 10, you will have eaten 55 Oreo cookies. Again, not the best choice just before bedtime. “Hey, Chris and Tommy, have sweet dreams! If you ever fall asleep, that is!”

Did you know there are approximately eighteen billion children’s books about the alphabet? I mean, how many ways do you need to learn your ABC’s? I guess the only advantage is the variety is better than reading the same book every single night. Even so, it’s the alphabet, for crying out loud. After a while I don’t care who creatively you used each letter for an animal, a piece of firefighting equipment, a kind of truck, or a monster. I’m starting to have bad dreams about hard vowels.

And don’t get me started on Elmo. If I have to read ‘Flutter by, Butterfly’ one more time, imitating his squeaky little voice, I’m going to puke.

But tonight I read the most off-the-wall children’s book I’ve ever read in my life.

My wife had done the library trip and brought home a brand new pile of 30 books. It was my night to read, and I was excited for some new material. I rifled through the stack, not really looking at the titles, grabbed a few and headed up to the bed. Chris, Tommy and I got settled under the covers as I lifted the first book.

It was called Walter the Farting Dog.

Nope, I’m not kidding. I’m staring at an actual hardbound book with the title, Walter the Farting Dog. And on the cover, in full color, is an illustration of an ugly gray dog with green gas exploding out of his butt. Floating above him, in a cloud of noxious green fumes, is a little girl.

She’s holding her nose.

You think I’m kidding, don’t you? I couldn’t make this up if I wanted to. And I sure as hell wouldn’t want to. You can check it out for yourself. It’s published by Frog, Ltd of Berkeley, California. The ISBN number is 1-58394-053-7. The illustrious authors are William Kotzwinkle and Glenn Murray. With special thanks to Audrey Colman for the graphic illustrations of Walter farting on nearly every page.

The premise of the book, if you care, is that a family adopts this dog, Walter, from the pound. They quickly find out why no one else would take him – he farts constantly, the foulest, most awful smelling farts in the world. They try feeding him different foods, but nothing will stop the terrible farting.

Just before he’s supposed to go back to the pound, some burglars break into the family’s home one night. Walter farts them into submission, saves the day, and the family keeps the dog.

Is this your typical feel good, happy ending, kid’s book? I think not.

On the other hand, Chris, Tommy and I never laughed so hard in our lives.

The boys were laughing because they will laugh at anything that has to do with farts, poop and bodily functions. It got worse was they began to feed of my laughter, which quickly became a downward spiral of helpless giggling. I could barely read the words on the page because I was laughing so hard. Each time I turned to a new illustration of this ugly dog blowing green gas out of his ass I lost it all over again.

What should have been a five minute read took nearly 20 minutes. And I still couldn't finish the damned book. MBW had to finally come in and take over for me.

I’ll have to take another turn tomorrow.

I still break into giggles, three hours later, thinking about this book. And how stupid I felt laughing over something so, well,…stupid.

Children’s stories just aren’t what they used to be.

Where’s the Man in the Yellow Hat when you need him?

It’s great to be The Family Man.