“One seventy-eight point odd. No no no,” Drosh said. “Not at five-ten. Too much flab,” he added, tapping my stomach and buttocks with his pen.
That was weird. I could’ve told him to f— off, that I played fine the way I am. I had no fat. I’d been an MLS starter for almost two seasons. Instead, nobody said anything.
– from “The Churning” by Justin Edison
In the book, obviously, hero Arman Hessabi meeting his pseudo-nemesis, Drosh, is a key chapter. It was a bit of the fantasy (being in good-enough shape) meeting the cold, hard reality (not good enough for the Premier League). I had a great time with this part, Ch. 7 (in the current layout).
Growing up, my sister occasionally called me “tub o’lard.” Sweet. I can’t blame her–siblings can be awful to each other. And I was a bit, uh, husky to say the least (260# at high school graduation). Yikes.
So here I am at 40, post run and looking very impressed.
I’ll get back to this subject soon.
Thanks for reading,
Perfect for Halloween, this novel is simply one of the best books out there, for older kids and grownups. Bradbury’s carnival of evil/ode to youth (and wisdom) is a descriptive tour de force. His evocative settings and lyrical dialogue are perfect. And if that balloon scene with the Dust Witch doesn’t creep you out, you need to be checked for a pulse!
I applaud any efforts to bring Cooger and Dark’s maddening show back to the screen. At times, the book is unsettling. “By the pricking of my thumbs…”
It’s a pity, but Arman Hessabi never gets to visit relatively nearby Prague. Gorgeous city. Even Fat Man loves it (in his own brutish way).
My wife and I loved the blend of crazy streets, Baroque architecture and old-world Europe in the old town. I would definitely go back for a visit. Plus, like a lot of writers, I have fantasy visions of being holed-up there for 3-4 weeks working like mad on a mystery novel. The place seems rich beyond measure.
At one point, hero Arman Hessabi’s nemesis, Fat Man, taunts him with a bowl of cereal. Deprived of food, Arman wants it but can’t have it. He recalls how his trainer, Drosh, won’t let him have cereal. It’s not for a Premier League star.
Even though I don’t look like a pro athlete, being honest, cereal is one of those things that’s not on my menu right now. The carbs, pure carbs. I miss cereal: as Arman says, a vat of five or six kinds blended together, with some cinnamon and fruit, that would be awesome. That’s what I used to chow down on, followed most every time by guilt and a calculation of running miles/soccer time spent by the soggy dregs.
Alas, in thinner times…or something like that.