
Gene Wilder's Kiss Me like a stranger, book cover.
Dave and I fell in love with this book several months ago when we saw it in a little store in Oakland. Apart from the confident story, it also has an animation on the upper right corners of the pages of Urso trudging along!
Urso Brunov is "The Little Father of All Bears" and sets off on a rescue mission when four of his bears are found missing when he wakes up from his hibernation a little early.
At every point he faces up to foes much larger than himself, and states to all who might not believe his might, "Believe me, for I am Urso Brunov!"
After buying the book, I read it out loud to Dave (and to Kevin when he got home) as Dave was cooking in the kitchen. It was really fun to do the voices, and by the end I was really getting into the "Believe me...!" refrain.
Urso fighting a large goat by bending its horns backwards!
Urso in a rare moment of low control!
This all inspired me to create a very beloved City of Heroes character, named Urso Brunov also.
His picture is below:
The City Not Long After: Buy on Amazon
This book cover is from the Blackstone audiobook and I like it even more than the cover on the library copy that I've now checked out and read at least twice. I also like the new cover on the paperback version also.
This is one of my favorite books - I first read it in 2002 and just re-read it again since I am on a "Brazen Hussies" kick along with the Lisa Goldstein books.
I used the main character's name - "Jax" as my name on the Bookcrossing website.
There's something about this book that I really identify with - hmm - a motherless girl comes to San Francisco as a teenager, not having ever been there before, meets many very interesting people, finds an identity for herself, and falls in love with the area and the people.
Luckily for us all in the Bay Area, the book's events have not yet come true completely -- in the book San Francisco has been the victim of a pandemic disease, around the time Jax was born, leaving very few people who were immune. The peace-loving city now faces an invasion by an army from the Sacramento/Modesto/Fresno area (General Miles, known to the citizens as "Fourstar") and strikes back in its own brand of Gandhi-esque guerrila "fighting."
And on top of all that, the Golden Gate Bridge is being painted blue by the city's individualist artisans! What more can you ask for in a book?
Plus, this should be read along with Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City for an entertaining and varied intro to SF for travelers/new residents.
Also see Margaret Atwood's Oryx and Crake, mentioned earlier in the February blogs, for more post-apocalyptic "fun."
"Teachers might believe that class time belongs to them and not us, but I beg to differ. Where I'm educated, cutting class is easy and people exercise it like a guilty party pleading the fifth. Prepare a lesson for every class period that's worthwhile to my classmates and me because counting the dots on the ceiling is getting pretty old."
"You are as much my hope for the future as I'm your social security payouts. We're not here to test your patience and fight you; we only do that when we're bored. Take care of us. Nurture that one-tenth of our minds you're able to reach without forcing it into overdrive, and I promise you you won't regret it."
When does a life end toward freedom? grasp its direction?
How do you know you're not circling in pale dreams, nostalgia,
stagnation
but entering that deep current malachite, colorado
requiring all your strength whenever found
your patience and your labor
desire pitted against desire's inversion
all your mind's fortitude?
Maybe through a teacher: someone with facts, with numbers
with poetry
who wrote on the board: IN EVERY GENERATION ACTION FREES OUR DREAMS.
Maybe a student: one mind unfurling like a redblack peony
quenched into percentile, dropout, stubbed out bud
--- Your journals Patricia: Douglas your poems: but the repetitive blows
on spines whose hope you were, on yours
to see that quenching and decide.
--- And now she turns her face brightly on the new morning in the new classroom
new in her beauty her skin her lashes her lovely body:
Race, class . . . all that . . . but isn't all that just history?
Aren't people bored with it all?
"I'm beginning to see that our appetite for books is the same as our appetite for food, that our brain tells us when we need the literary equivalent of salads or chocolate, or meat and potatoes."
Here's Stout's Dinosaur sketchbook #2 which I bought for $15. Right after I bought this, a guy came up behind me and asked "Do I need to pay money to get your autograph?"
Stout replied, "No..." but unspoken was perhaps the thought "No, but I wish you would _want_ to buy something just because you admire my work enough to ask for an autograph."
Dave got a lot of autographs yesterday and of course we couldn't buy something from everyone but I think he tried to at least buy a couple sketches, especially from people that he admired. After I had bought the book and had Stout sign my poster, Dave arrived separately (when we were trying to meet up again after separating for awhile) and Stout also signed Dave's historic "Daily Bugle" notebook - he did another short dinosaur sketch in the book but it was one of the most detailed that anyone had done previously.