I WOULDN'T DO THAT IF I WERE ME

When the going gets tough, send in the clowns.

Gay, a sports and humor columnist for the Wall Street Journal, follows up Little Victories (2015) with another winning set of essays, many embracing the perspective afforded by the pandemic. The author's self-deprecating approach to his limited athletic abilities and dubious masculine bona fides puts him right next to Dave Barry on the guy-humor shelf. For example, here is his assessment of setting up a man cave in his basement: "I am not what you would describe as man cave material. I have never owned a framed football jersey, or a leather chair, or a vintage neon sign of any kind. I’m a clod at playing pool, foosball, and air hockey. I know very little about beer. When you are cleaning up after a party, and you find a halfdrunk can of beer, and you ask, ‘Who drinks only half a can of beer?’ Me. That is me. I drank only half a can of your beer. I am sorry." In response to his children's pleas for a dog, he imagines some kind of new, “custom-designed” breed, “capable of walking loyally with you to the liquor store but also discussing the new season of Ozark. I bet they make this dog now. It’s probably some form of Frankendoodle. ‘His name is Abercrombie. He's part poodle, part Lab, part podcaster.’ ” Gay also provides an alternative to the traditional anniversary gift guide —highlights include “7th: Phone charger…“8th: Nothing…13th: Heroin….48th: Ghostbusters II on Blu-Ray.” In a particularly moving piece, the author remembers a sportswriter pal who died of brain cancer, and a series of three essays mete out the misadventures of his mother's cat, Baxter, giving the book a bit of a throughline and leading to the bravura ending, where he praises the "little happy things" that have gotten us through these difficult recent years.

Goofy dad humor lives, and it’s still good for what ails you.