Bookses

An update on my Pulitzer project since finishing Middlesex (see, "Book Report," September 9).

The Old Man and the Sea, by Ernest Hemingway -- Disappointing. I was bored. This may be because it followed Middlesex, but I was grateful it was so short.

A Death in the Family, by James Agee -- I can't exactly say I enjoyed it, but I was glad I read it. Pretty heavy, but beautiful.

The Caine Mutiny, by Herman Wouk -- See "Let's See," September, 29.

Empire Falls, by Richard Russo -- Loved it. Great story about Life with People.

The Good Earth, by Pearl S. Buck -- Not so much. I have a friend who loved it, but I didn't. Slow, dry and without a hint of humor.

The Color Purple, by Alice Walker -- Better than I expected, but not a favorite.

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, by Michael Chabon -- What can I say? It's fabulous. See "Shawn, if You're Ever..." November 26.

Currently wading through Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind. I've hated the movie for years, but the book's alright. Incredibly long, but alright.

Why I Love My Wife, Reason # 129

I say to her, "Why can't we name the baby Smeagol?"

And she says, "Because Smeagol was a bad person."

And I tell her, "Nuh-uh, Gollum was the bad one."

And she says, "Then Smeagol was bi-polar and obsessive-compulsive and probably didn't like bran muffins."

We'll celebrate nine years tomorrow. Best Wife Ever.

It's Just Something I Say to People

Some people say, "Hope everything comes out alright." Some say, "Mention my name and you'll get a good seat," or some variation. I like, "Don't get any on ya," (though I use it in non-bathroom related situations as well, and have never meant it as literally as you might think -- "I'm going to Rally's," you might say, to which I might reply, "Don't get any on ya," and probably also, "Bring me some fries," but I digress).

So the other day at work, a coworker (who will absolutely remain nameless, so don't ask me Matt) called me over, having recently taken a break, and said, through a giggle, "I just went to the bathroom and got it up under my fingernails."

"Number one or number two?" I asked her, though I knew the answer.

"Number two," she said, "I had to go get a scrub brush."

Then she offered me a high five.