The Monkey King's Used Primate Emporium and Book Reviews

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Katrina Kenison (editor), �The Best American Short Stories: 2002�

Started December 29, 2004 � Finished April 4, 2005; 386 pages. Posted 22 May 2005

Apparently, the way to get published for a Best American Short Story is to write about anybody but Americans. And not make your story short. I put this in the bathroom in December, thinking I could finish stories on the can.

Who would have thought this old man to have had so much poop in him?
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After receiving a rather flippant comment a while ago saying, basically, to get over it, as well as having to re-post a lot of older entries detailing a lot of an area when I felt at my worst, I can�t help but sometimes feel that some people rolled their eyes at that comment a few days back about being cursed.

Here�s the lede paragraph from yesterday�s (May 20, 2005) edition of the Honolulu Advertiser:

�Calling it a tough but necessary decision, University of Hawai'i Regents voted unanimously yesterday to approve the biggest tuition increase ever for the state's public college system.�

I rest my case.

But, clavicle be damned (damn you, clavicle! DAMN YOU!!!), I�m still going. I called my father to inform him about my plan, as he really didn�t know anything about it.

After finishing the standard question and answer period, I asked how he was doing.

�I�m really not doing very well,� he answered. About three years back my father fell while hiking and dislocated his shoulder. It still hasn�t healed properly after three years and two surgeries and he really can�t use his arm for anything. He�s also in constant pain.

�Well, Christ, hopefully I don�t have your genes,� I said.

�I don�t wear jeans,� he answered, since he has a hard time hearing as well. �In fact, all I do everyday is stand around and look out of my window, and I�m not wearing any clothes at all.�

�Yeah, Dad, I know. You have a habit of telling both me and my sister about that fact every time we call, and it�s in every letter. It�s really not something either of us want to think about.�

He apparently didn�t hear me and kept talking. �I can�t go in the ocean, I can�t walk long distances before the pain from it jostling around gets to be too much, and the doctor has pretty much given up.

�In fact,� he continued in a matter-of-fact voice, �I�ve put a lot of thought into this, and I know that being in constant pain isn�t how I want to live my life. So I�m figuring that I�m just going to walk into the ocean and that�ll be the end of it.�

Well, hello Father Sunshine.

How the hell do you answer a comment like that? Especially to somebody who doesn�t understand sarcasm? This is a former psychologist and counselor. Hyperbole is not his strong suit.

The answer is, you don�t. If that�s what he wants to do, who the hell am I to say otherwise? And what do I say in an attempt to dissuade him?

Knowing my luck, I�ll be the one assigned to cover the story about the body that washed up at the tourist-filled Waikiki beach. I can only hope he�ll keep some clothes on.


Rating: Worth working in a used bookstore and getting for cheap.

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