Radio performer, sportswriter, and columnist for the Washington Post, Kornheiser (The Baby Chase, 1983) offers his off- the-cuff takes on events (more or less recent, but mostly less) on the boulevards of modern society and in the purlieus of the District of Columbia. His natural targets: the hype attendant on the famous, the habits of the wealthy, and domestic life in general. Along with a couple of nice pieces about his relatives, the collection of columns presents the standard boomer stuff of current syndicated humorists. With some wit he does riffs on cigars and cars, clothes and kids. He doesn't neglect his gender studies or forget the nostalgia typical of guys who fondly remember their lost hair and view their burgeoning wattles with alarm. It's frequently done with hoary gags that end with punch lines like ``We need the eggs!'' and one-liners in a rhythm perfected long ago by Prof. Henny Youngman. (Rim shots—bada-bing, bada-boom—are articulated to maintain the proper pace). The material, to be candid, isn't timeless. There is snappy comment about Hugh Grant and Tonya Harding and allusions to the likes of Joe Isuzu and John Sununu. The author professes comic carnal admiration for a variety of bodacious babes who may once have been semifamous but are now nowhere to be found. A recurrent thematic element is the big-shot airline passenger ``who did caca doody on the plane's food cart because they wouldn't give him another drink.'' Who can lose interest in material like that? It's all good, clean fun, though nothing remarkable. The jests are likable enough and ephemeral as a Post-it note. Pleasant fooling around by a conventional iconoclast.
Pub Date: Nov. 1, 1997
ISBN: 0-375-50037-5
Page Count: 304
Publisher: Villard
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 1, 1997
BOOK REVIEW
An autobiography as toxic and addictive as any drug its author has ever ingested.
The legendary booze-addled metal rocker turned reality-TV star comes clean in his tell-all autobiography.
Although brought up in the bleak British factory town of Aston, John “Ozzy” Osbourne’s tragicomic rags-to-riches tale is somehow quintessentially American. It’s an epic dream/nightmare that takes him from Winson Green prison in 1966 to a presidential dinner with George W. Bush in 2004. Tracing his adult life from petty thief and slaughterhouse worker to rock star, Osbourne’s first-person slang-and-expletive-driven style comes off like he’s casually relating his story while knocking back pints at the pub. “What you read here,” he writes, “is what dribbled out of the jelly I call my brain when I asked it for my life story.” During the late 1960s his transformation from inept shoplifter to notorious Black Sabbath frontman was unlikely enough. In fact, the band got its first paying gigs by waiting outside concert venues hoping the regularly scheduled act wouldn’t show. After a few years, Osbourne and his bandmates were touring America and becoming millionaires from their riff-heavy doom music. As expected, with success came personal excess and inevitable alienation from the other members of the group. But as a solo performer, Osbourne’s predilection for guns, drink, drugs, near-death experiences, cruelty to animals and relieving himself in public soon became the stuff of legend. His most infamous exploits—biting the head off a bat and accidentally urinating on the Alamo—are addressed, but they seem tame compared to other dark moments of his checkered past: nearly killing his wife Sharon during an alcohol-induced blackout, waking up after a bender in the middle of a busy highway, burning down his backyard, etc. Osbourne is confessional to a fault, jeopardizing his demonic-rocker reputation with glib remarks about his love for Paul McCartney and Robin Williams. The most distinguishing feature of the book is the staggering chapter-by-chapter accumulation of drunken mishaps, bodily dysfunctions and drug-induced mayhem over a 40-plus-year career—a résumé of anti-social atrocities comparable to any of rock ’n’ roll’s most reckless outlaws.
An autobiography as toxic and addictive as any drug its author has ever ingested.Pub Date: Jan. 25, 2010
ISBN: 978-0-446-56989-7
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2009
BOOK REVIEW
IN THE NEWS
This is not the Nutcracker sweet, as passed on by Tchaikovsky and Marius Petipa. No, this is the original Hoffmann tale of 1816, in which the froth of Christmas revelry occasionally parts to let the dark underside of childhood fantasies and fears peek through. The boundaries between dream and reality fade, just as Godfather Drosselmeier, the Nutcracker's creator, is seen as alternately sinister and jolly. And Italian artist Roberto Innocenti gives an errily realistic air to Marie's dreams, in richly detailed illustrations touched by a mysterious light. A beautiful version of this classic tale, which will captivate adults and children alike. (Nutcracker; $35.00; Oct. 28, 1996; 136 pp.; 0-15-100227-4)
Pub Date: Oct. 28, 1996
ISBN: 0-15-100227-4
Page Count: 136
Publisher: Harcourt
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 15, 1996
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
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