Black Jargon in White America
by David Claerbaut (1972)

With the debate raging over ebonics, perhaps this slim 1972 guide is ripe for a second printing. The first three chapters are an explanation about how a white inner-city school teacher came to compile the book, and his thoughts on the jargon of the black community. He writes, "Putting aside the issue of the possible bad repercussions which may emanate from improper use of the jargon, it is wise to seriously consider the remarkable potential that learning the vocabulary has for improved racial relations.... The book addresses itself to those white Americans who spend part of their lives working with black Americans but who rarely take the time to find out who the black American really is." Claerbaut traces black English to slaves who either misunderstood, mispronounced or purposefully twisted their masters' language so they could talk freely amongst themselves. The last half of the book is a dictionary of black jargon, including classics such as baby, big daddy, bread, get it on, get yourself together (but not "get down"), hip, honky, jive, keep the faith, right on, shucking and jiving, soul, what's happening? and lesser knowns (at least to me) such as greyhounding (dating a white person), O.G. (old girl, or mother), Tonto (a black man untrue to his race), and untogether (not operating smoothly, not in vogue).

The Book of Eleven
by Amy Krouse Rosenthal (1998)

In this, her "itemized collection of brain lint," Amy serves up a collection of stuff you've thought but never written down. For example, she has a list about flying, which includes an observation about landing: How many times have you thought, as you look out the port hole during the descent, "We'd die, we'd die, we might make it, we'd make it." And a thought she didn't include in her 11 thoughts on movies: Ever notice that there are two types of people, those who can watch movies in which a lot of improbable stuff happens to move the plot along and those who can't. I'm in the latter category. By the end of the film I'm yelling at the screen, "Oh yeah, that makes sense. He can jump over that barrel with a twisted ankle." If you're going to spend millions of dollars on a film, throw in $500,000 to make everything probable.

Confessions of a Dangerous Mind
by Chuck Barris (1984)

Despite what you might think, this "unauthorized autobiography" of the game show king was a great read. Barris, who created "The Dating Game," "The Newlywed Game" and "The Gong Show," weaves his television reminiscences in with a nearly believable account of his work for the CIA as a trained assassin code named "Sunny Sixkiller." At one point, he explains that he had the perfect cover as a game show host because he could scout vacation spots overseas for show prizes while also executing hits for the Company. Barris describes how the Dating Game almost never got off the ground because early contestants were so raunchy. Later inventions such as the Newlywed Game thrived on sexual double entendre, but the Dating contestants weren't nearly as tactful. Exasperated as he filmed and scrapped pilot after pilot because of the adult humor, Barris finally had to hire an actor to portray an FCC official and warn contestants that foul language could lead to a one-year prison sentence or $10,000 fine. That was complete bull... uh, it was complete fiction, but it saved TV viewers from exchanges such as these, which never aired for apparent reasons:

Pretty Cheerleader: Bachelor Number One, one of my biggest difficulties is spelling. How do you spell relief?
Bachelor: "F-A-R-T."

Pretty Cheerleader: Bachelor Number Two, what nationality are you?
Bachelor: Well, my father is Welsh, and my mother is Hungarian, so I guess I'm Well-Hung!

Confessions of a Raving Unconfined Nut:
Misadventures in the Counter Culture
by Paul Krassner (1993)

Krassner edits The Realist, a newsletter of satire and political commentary. During the Sixties he was one of the yippies (he claims to have coined the term), causing a lot of problems for Richard Nixon and the gang. This is a highly entertaining account of those years and his relationship with his daughter Holly. A prodigy violinist, he turned sour and got into drugs and politics and generally pissing people off. I saw Krassner do stand-up in Greenwich Village soon after Confessions came out, and he read some passages. One of my favorites is when he describes being tailed with Abbie Hoffman by two Chicago cops during the 1968 Democratic convention. As soon as he and Abbie realized they were being followed, they returned to a restaurant where they had been refused service the previous day and made a point of shaking the manager's hand (no hard feelings) so he'd have a spot on the cops' suspect list. Later, they stopped their car and walked back to talk to the tails: "We introduced ourselves and shook hands. Their names were Herbie and Mac. We offered them official Yippie lapel buttons, but they said, 'No thanks, we're on duty.' I explained that if we happened to lose them in a crowd, we'd be able to spot them more easily if they were wearing Yippie buttons, so they accepted and pinned them on their jackets." Soon after, the cops asked if Hoffman and Krassner were going to eat. They recommended the Pickle Barrel, and the two Yippies followed them to the restaurant: "This was indeed a rare and precious moment. We obediently got back into our car and followed the cops. I thought they were going to try and shake us, but we managed never to lose sight of them. We sat at separate tables."

Dead Men Do Tell Tales
by William Maples (1995)

Maples is a forensic anthropologist in Florida, which means he's handed rotting bodies or skeletons and told to figure out how the person died. The violent murders and dismemberments make for interesting detective stories, but Maples also examined the remains of former President Zachery Taylor to see if he had been poisoned and the Last Tzar and his family, murdered by the Bolsheviks. It's amazing what scientists can discover from the simplest of nicks or scratches. The book never becomes so gruesome you can't read it over lunch, except for the story of the son-in-law stuffed into a septic tank, and it includes cool observations such as the fact that our highway system should be recognized as the 51st state (it's populated by killers disposing of bodies). Maples relates how bikers in Florida often kill informants by dismembering them and stuffing each piece into matching luggage before distributing them around the state. Cool.

Dear Johnny: Johnny Carson's
Most Hilarious & Bizarre Fan Mail
by Barbara Bowen & Mike Huber (1993)

Two of Carson's mail clerks decided to write a book, and after reading through this sampling of letters, I'm glad I only paid three bucks for it. It's divided into 14 chapters, as if the kooks who wrote Johnny could be categorized beyond that they all have delusions. It's a sad book, in the end, devoid of the wit that Carson was known for, since it focuses on that segment of the mentally ill who naturally connect with a guy who never lets them down. The authors' admonition that they're not trying to exploit the letter writers doesn't ring true, especially when you consider the snide comments they add in the margins. They also mock fans who send in letter-sized envelopes when asking for glossy photos. The nerve! "We were always tempted to take the 8 x 10 photo and fold it to fit into the small envelope, but we never did." That's about the most scintillating of the insider gossip in the book, which includes a list of form letter replies (stop the presses!) and incredible detail about how the mail was sorted, like anyone cares about The Tonight Show's interoffice routing system. And hold on to your hats: They usually got a lot more mail near Johnny's birthday! There are a few letters that are gems, like the guy who wrote to tell Johnny that he had memorized 215 jokes "and counting" or the enterprising couple who observed, "The salary from one of your shows would get us totally out of debt, including our house. How about letting us do one of your shows and getting your salary for it?" After Jimmy Stewart read a poem on-air about a dog named Beau, viewers requested copies for six years. Others would write in to report how many times Johnny touched his tie during the monologue or licked his finger to turn pages. One letter read simply, "All right, I'll swallow it," many accused Ed McMahon of lying about that $10 million jackpot, and one guy won the Gross-Out award by enclosing his toenail clippings. Children typically sent their favorite recipes, and one fan dutifully mailed $10 a month "rent" to "Dad." The best letters are those that close the book, such as the family who credited Johnny with saving their lives (they were up watching TV when a fire broke out) or the loyal viewer who suggested Carson cap his final show by having a fat lady sing. "Maybe Roseanne Barr!" He chose Bette Midler instead.

Drunken Goldfish & Other
Irrelevant Scientific Research
by William Hartston (1988)

I picked up this book at a museum bargain bin. It wasn't a surprise to find it there, considering it mocks the lame scientific research that forms the basis for many an exhibit. The title comes from a research paper Hartston stumbled upon that described the effects of alcohol on goldfish memory (about what you'd expect). Hartston didn't want to burn any bridges with his fellow scientists, so he states up front that "on the one hand I have great admiration and love of research for its own sake; on the other I cannot help feeling there is far too much of it going on." Among the findings he cites from studies completed by bona fide researchers (sometimes with taxpayer money — isn't that always the case?): alcohol makes dogs drunk; animals held under water never die in exactly the same length of time; pigeons can be taught to distinguish between Bach flute music and Hindemath viola music; squeezing a cat's testicles causes it pain; the ideal height for a toilet seat is 0.4 meters; chickens prefer to eat off blue triangles rather than red circles; jokes you've heard already seem less funny; and young orangutans like colored foods better than older ones but older ones eat faster.

Encyclopedia of Graffiti
by Robert Reisner and Lorraine Wechsler (1974)

I suppose they needed a man and a woman to co-write this so they could cover both bathrooms. "Graffiti are the voice of the common man," they write in their intro (which tries hard to sound scientific). If that's true, we need a huge bar of soap to wash out the common man's mouth! Shame! I love this book because it's organized by subject, including the mainstays Defecation and Sex, as well as more dour topics such as Women's Liberation, International Relations and Philosophy. They also include graffiti exchanges, complete with cross outs. Some of it's obscene, some political, but sadly, not much of it is very interesting.

The Illustrated Texas Dictionary
of the English Language
by Jim Everhart (1968)

I was going to send these to my Texan friend Dawn, but they're so entertaining I done kept 'em. Jim's buggy mug appears on each page as he clowns for the camera to illustrate Southern gems such as tarred ("Boy, am ah tarred"), lahr ("Who you calling a lahr?"), barley ("Ah can jes barley open my eyes"), heidi ("Heidi, neighbor") tom ("How come you ain't ever on tom?"), sep ("Everyone can go in sep yew!") and are ("Ah'll meet you there in about an are").

Michillaneous
by Gary W. Barfknecht (1982)

There's a list circulating on the Internet called You Might Be a Michigander If.... It includes items such as "when you ask where they're from, they hold up the palm of their right hand and point a spot somewhere on it." A lot of people who aren't from Michigan don't get that. But as you can see, Michigan is shaped like a mitten (if you discount the Upper Peninsula — and most everyone does), complete with a thumb. Michigan is largely a white, fruit-growing Republican state, with the exception of Detroit. I grew up on the west side of Michigan, near Grand Rapids, home of the Gerald R. Ford museum (two years, two floors). Michillaneous is a book that sells well in Michigan, presumably. Organized much like The Book of Lists, it contains 243 pages of facts and figures about the state, including 3 Dogs Who Shot Their Masters, 2 Pronounced Victims of Toxic Shock Syndrome, 6 Entertainers Who Died While Performing in Michigan (Harry Houdini and five you've never heard of), 3 Abused Wives Found Innocent of Murdering Their Husbands, Counties with the Most Pigs and 7 Successful Limb Reattachments. My favorite chart is the 12 Areas in which Michigan Ranks First in the Nation. They include snowmobile fatalities, production of pickling cucumbers, college football attendance, salt production, cases of measles, production of blueberries, supplier of birds eye maple, number of state parks, production of red tart cherries, automobiles assembled (duh), commercial peat production and production of dry edible beans. But for Montana, we'd have the most militia members.

The Oxford Book of Ages
chosen by Anthony and Sally Sampson (1985)

This is a nifty volume I found at a used book store. Why would anyone sell it? It chronicles quotes about each year of life from birth to 100. As Schopenhauer noted, "The character of almost every man seems to be pre-eminently adapted to one stage of life; so that in this stage he appears to the greatest advantage. Some are lovable youths, and that is all; others are active and energetic men, but age robs them of all worth; many appear most advantageously in old age." The book begins with Edward Young: "Our birth is nothing but our death begun" and ends with Henry Miller's "Who wants to live to be 100? What's the point of it?" The ones in between aren't all so dreary.

The Pushbutton Telephone Song Book
by Michael Scheff (1972)

Touchtone phones were all the rage when Michael Scheff composed this book. Here are a few favorites. Remember, only poke out the tunes when you're connected with a friend, an answering machine or the "time" recording — otherwise you could end up talking to someone in Iowa.

For beginners:
1199
Twin- kle, Twin- kle
009
Lit- tle Star

For birthdays:
4424#8
Hap- py birth- day to you
112198
Hap- py birth- day to you

For the holidays:
666666
Jin-gle bells, jin-gle bells
6#786
Jin- gle all the way
9999955
Oh, what fun it is to ride
5557456
In a one- horse o- pen sleigh

To put someone in the mood for phone sex:
48848
Stran- gers in the night
48684
Ex- chang- ing glan- ces

Transparent Tape
by Vicki Lansky (1995)

Lansky is a contributing editor to Family Circle and author of such books as 500 Uses For Baking Soda and Don't Throw That Out! This 100-page charmer — it's full title is Transparent Tape: Over 350 Super, Simple and Surprising Uses You've Probably Never Thought of — comes complete with an index. The book begins with a nine-page report on the history and manufacture of transparent tape (it was invented by Richard Drew of 3M in 1930 shortly after he perfected masking tape) and continues with advice on making your life more efficient by applying generous doses of SSO (sticky side out). Beyond the tips that aren't obvious filler ("use tape to repair a torn book cover" "use tape to repair broken eyeglass frames"), most of the advice is downright exasperating. Putting SSO tape between your counter and your stove to prevent crumbs from falling into "hard-to-clean" spots might work, but who the hell cares if crumbs fall down there? Taping receipts and warranties to the back of new appliances ("except ones that get hot") comes off as innovative, but save your tape and just buy a big manila envelope. Lansky also suggests: (1) taping all your remotes together so you won't lose them; (2) taping a three-inch piece of tape to the bottom of your door so you'll know if there's been an intruder when you return, (3) taping your broken credit card until you get a new one, (4) taping around your head to mark a straight line when trimming your bangs or sideburns, (5) taping a pill to the face of your watch so you won't forget to take it, (6) taping index cards to make nifty "laminated" IDs, (7) taping loops to the back of anything cut from paper to make stickers, and (8) taping waxed paper to a kid's arm "when your child needs a sympathy bandage and you don't want to waste a real one." (Good God, woman — give the kid a bandage!) Although this book was aggravating (I taped it shut), I did spot three tips that might be useful: (1) "Put a piece of tape on a young child's finger when trying to photograph him or her. It makes for some interesting facial expressions when trying to photograph him or her!," (2) wrapping tape around your fingers while polishing shoes will prevent polish stains, and (3) "put a piece of tape over your flash to prevent red eye" (does that actually work?). Finally, one tip struck me as so odd in this enlightened age I could scarcely believe it appeared. In the chapter on using tape to raise your child, Lanky suggests "taping eyelids partially closed to make your child look Oriental if he or she is required to play that role in a school production." Yikes! Hey Vicki — how about covering your kid's face with transparent tape and applying shoe polish? Then he can appear in blackface without a lot of mess!

Winning at Work:
How to Be a Great Employee
by Walt Mulvey (1995)

This book is offensive in a mild-mannered way. Writing it was a "dream come true" for Mulvey, an entrepreneur (i.e. his own boss) who asked around and found out that no one had ever seen a book written about how to be a superenthusiastic peon. Walt starts out by explaining how to tell if you're an employee: "You are an employee if you are not a boss." Walt then explains that great employees have goals, priorities and ambitions, they don't become involved in office politics, and if they're up for a promotion that goes to someone else, they feel happy for that person and support them in their work. You can ask your boss nicely why you weren't promoted and then "work to improve your skills." Walt recalls how he had one employee who didn't have a Positive Mental Attitude. So Walt ordered the man to clip five happy newspaper articles every day. By the end of the month the employee was racking up big sales. At another company Walt worked at, when things looked bleak someone would say, "Terrific." And then everybody around them would repeat "Terrific!" three times. Then everyone would feel better. Chapter 6 of Winning at Work is called "Be a Boss Booster!" If your boss is not qualified for his position, don't call him an SOB, Walt says. Call him a FHB, or fallible human being. Also, don't criticize your boss. Instead, always anticipate his needs, like Radar did on M*A*S*H whenever Colonel Potter was feeling cranky. To drive his point home, Walt includes an entire chapter of quotes from CEOs about what makes a great employee. Naturally, great employees go that extra mile, "forget about the clock," and devote their talents and energies to making the company buttloads of money. Finally, Walt provides his home phone number for any potential great employee who "would like to discuss a challenge or problem you have at work. You will always have a willing listener." Uh, hello, Walt? Yeah, I just got laid off after 21 years at the same company the same day the CEO took a $5 million bonus. Any words of wisdom?

X-Ray
edited by Johnny Brewton (various)

Johnny Brewton asks artists, writers and other creative types to contribute multiple originals of some conceptual art, then binds the results together for a limited run of 200 issues. Volume 1, Number 3, for instance, contained numbered drawings, stories, poems, found objects, photos and esoterica. Many of the pages had me thinking, "Wish I'd thought of that." The issue featured here includes a cover illustration of Marilyn Chambers, who went from Ivory Snow girl to porn star, with a bullet hole from the gun of Hunter S. Thompson. ($35 from P.O. Box 1103, Ventura, CA 93002)

Youth in Revolt: The Journals of Nick Twisp
by C.D. Payne (1996)

I'm usually not a fan of fiction, but I devoured this novel. It's the laugh-out-loud diary of angst-ridden teenager Nick Twisp as he chronicles his fall from grace — he begins the book as an honor student and ends as a fugitive. In the meantime he struggles to finish high school, to stay out of the way of his divorced parents and, of course, to lose his virginity. It's an entertaining, well-written book; I saw a hardcover copy being used for decoration in a wine bar but the waiter wouldn't sell it to me. I may go back and steal it.