Egress, Part 1

Cover of Eating the Dinosaur

The latest foray into the world of books is brought to you by a series of unfortunate events in my life. Due to all of those current events and my emotional/mental state, I’ve been reading something during every free second of my day, more or less. Here’s the breakdown of books since I lasted wrote about books:

Books Read:

Twinkie, Deconstructed – Steve Ettlinger

Eating The Dinosaur – Chuck Klosterman

Mr. Funny Pants – Michael Showalter

Franny and Zooey – JD Salinger

Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck

The Grapes Of Wrath – John Steinbeck

Books Bought:

Twinkie, Deconstructed – Steve Ettlinger

Eating The Dinosaur – Chuck Klosterman

Visit From The Goon Squad – Jennifer Egan

Sunday was the beginning of what would become a surreal, sad, uncomfortable and lonely week. This isn’t the time nor place to delve, but simply understand that there’s a reason I’ve run away into the comfort of the written word, and a reason I knew I had to buy some new books that day. I knew when I stepped into the bookstore that I needed to find some nonfiction. In times where I want to spend my time drinking coffee and pretending I’m not in reality, I don’t want to meet new characters, I don’t want to become engrossed in another life. My first stop, as usual, was the Society/Culture Commentary section, where I found Eating The Dinosaur.

I’ve been a fan of Klosterman since I heard him speak in Iowa City, and I think I may have been the only person in the audience (including the people I was with) who hadn’t read Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs. In fact, I still haven’t, and my enjoyment of Eating The Dinosaur has made me realize that I really should. Friends and allies heed my call: if you have a copy of Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs, please contact me so I can ask you to borrow it.

Centrally, Eating The Dinosaur is my favourite type of non-fiction: a collection of essays on various topics written by a sharp author whom I enjoy. Best of all, Klosterman’s voice is the kind that makes me want to be a writer. We all have authors we love who we feel embody certain aspects of our own personalities; when we read an author we love, it almost seems like they’re talking directly to us–they make you want to listen because it feels like they understand you. Klosterman, at least in his non-fiction, is one of those authors to me. Sadly (I’m sure he’d be hugely broken up about hearing this), I don’t think he would make a top 5 list of my favourite books, but whenever I read his essays they give me a lot of momentum and keep my mind tickled, occupied and enriched; they sneak up on you with enjoyment, like a Disney animated movie.

One thing that I’m grateful to Klosterman for is making it “ok” for pop culture laden leftists nerds (like him, like me) to love sports. There’s always this expectation that people who possess Star Wars memorabilia can’t also cry because of sporting results. In fact, I’ve gotten downright astonished looks from people when they learn that, in addition to being able to give you real names of all the current Justice Society members, I can also tell you the strongest 11 for all of the English Premiere League clubs, or tell you that Ray Hamilton is a great example of the type of recruiting Ferentz can do.

Needless to say, my favourite essay in Eating The Dinosaur is the one dedicated to football. In fact, Klosterman gives us this:

Let me begin by recognizing that you–the reader of this book–might not know much about football. In fact, you might hate football, and you might be annoyed that it’s even included in this collection. I’m guessing at least fifty potential buyers flipped through the pages of this book inside a store, noticed there was a diagram of a football play on page 147, and decided not to buy it. This is a problem I have always had to manage: Roughly 60 percent of the people who read my books have a near-expert understanding of sports, but the remaining percent have no interest whatsoever. As such, I will understand if you skip to the next essay, which is about ABBA.

Then he simplifies the language he previously used to describe the aforementioned play, and it’s hilarious, but I’m not going to type the whole damn book out. However, you absolutely must read this book (I’ll swap it for …Cocoa Puffs!) if you are interested in reading about: Ira Glass, the Unabomber, Irony, Friends, or really anything. In closing my talking about Eating The Dinosaur, however, I am going to transcribe one more bit of the football chapter that clearly shows that Klosterman and I are soul mates. Feel free to replace any instance dealing with gridiron football in the quote with soccer and we’re good to go:

…My obsessional with football has risen every single autumn. I love watching it and I love thinking about it. I want to understand why that happened. I assume it is one of three explanations or–more likely–a combination of all three: Either (a) the game itself keeps improving, (b) the media impacts me more than I’m willing to admit, or (c) this is just what happens to men as they grow older. I suppose I don’t care. I’m just glad to have something in my life that is so easy to enjoy this much. All I have to do is sit on my couch and watch. It is the easiest kind of pleasure.

…I don’t know what I see when I watch football. It must be something insane, because I should not enjoy it as much as I do. I must be seeing something so personal and so universal that understanding this question would tell me everything I need to know about who I am, and maybe I don’t want that to happen. But perhaps it’s simply this: Football allows the intellectual part of my brain to evolve, but it allows the emotional part to remain unchanged. It has a liberal cerebellum and a reactionary heart. And this is all I want from everything, all the time, always.

Almost on cue as I finished typing that, I was brought back down to Earth by the realities of the moment: I have to attend a wake in an hour and hug people who are crying without crying myself, and I have to stop myself from wanting to call and sing stupid songs to an answering machine…so to speak.

In essence, reading and writing let me escape, and I hate these times where I can’t. I’ll be writing about Twinkie, Deconstructed at a later time, along with all that pesky fiction.