Look Back, But Don't Stare
Look Back, But Don’t Stare a memoir A giambotta of outrageous events, poignant observations and wicked reflections that chronicle life's absurdities and are served with humor and a whole lot of heart. Here's a sampling: As a little girl, I remembered checking out the mini-mausoleums, Lilliputian houses of the wealthy, that were mixed in with the tombstones of the less well-off and the tiny stone “pillows” of those not inclined to go for broke. If the people buried in the little granite houses are so rich I asked my mom, why didn’t they build bigger houses? They don’t need a lot of room, she said, they’re not going to be doing much in the way of entertaining. from Grave Sight Being on the alert for signs of brain-damage was complicated by the fact that Kiki’s family was strange to begin with – I mean, her brother’s name was Jujube. Jujube! All the boys in our neighborhood had names like Joey or Junior – no one was named after candy that you bought when you went to the movies. On top of that, Jujube’s ears were lopsided, and he kind of looked like he might not make it past fifth grade. To further complicate matters, Kiki and Jujube had different fathers because my brother said Lucy was divorced which meant she traded in her old husband for a new one. So it was going to be hard to know if Kiki was goofed up because of me or her loony tribe. I worried that I was going to have to take the whole blame if Kiki didn’t turn out right, if she couldn’t spell or add or subtract. from Worried About the Soft Spot