Dear reader, I usually don’t ask much of you.
Just about every week, you come to this page for a visit. Some of you tell me you look forward to reading my mostly mundane ramblings. Others, I’m sure, might check out this space simply to see what Mr. All About Me is pretentiously writing. Either way, I thank you for your visit. While you’re here, check out our roster of fine sponsors, and support them. And when you visit their establishment, tell them you read about ‘em in Arkansas Weekly.
Now, where was I?
Oh, so I appreciate your readership very much, and as you know, I don’t ask much of you. However, if you will allow me, I do want you to pay very close attention to this particular column. And, I will warn you, this piece concerns a book recommendation.
From the reader comments I receive, I gather that many of you don’t really like the columns where I recommend certain movies, music and books. Heaven knows, I’ve had more than enough people ask me why I raved about films such as The Royal Tenenbaums or Magnolia (“What was the deal with the frogs?” is a consistent question I get regarding the latter flick.).
The book, and it’s really not a book per se – it’s a collection of previously published columns and essays, is by Pete Dexter. Now, some of you may remember that name. I’ve written about Dexter before. He is, I believe, the finest living American writer – period. He didn’t start writing novels until he was 38. Before that he was (in no particular order) an acclaimed columnist, a gas station attendant, occasional barfly, newspaper reporter, construction worker and the victim of a particularly brutal assault.
The assault is somewhat noteworthy. At the time, he was a popular columnist for the Philadelphia Daily News. One piece, about a drug deal gone fatally wrong, offended the brother of the victim in the deal. Dexter, being the gentleman he is, went down to a dive in the worst neighborhood in Philadelphia where the brother tended bar to try to mend some fences.
He left the bar with half of his upper teeth missing. So, he decided to go and get a back-up in the form of his buddy, Randall “Tex” Cobb. Cobb, for those of you who don’t know, almost took the WBC World Championship title from Larry Frazier. He’s also an actor most famous for the darkly funny biker from Hell (literally) in Raising Arizona. He is a big, scary man.
When Dexter and Cobb returned to the bar for some payback, the duo was met by 30 or so men with tire irons and baseball bats. As noted in the new book, Cobb turned to Dexter and said, “I hope this is the local softball team.”
It wasn’t, of course. The second time Dexter left the bar, he was not only still missing most of his upper teeth, but he also had a broken back and pelvis. Cobb suffered a broken arm so badly damaged, many say it cost him his boxing career.
Pete Hamill, the legendary journalist, details the Dexter/Cobb melee much better in his forward to Paper Trails: True Stories of Confusion, Mindless Violence, and Forbidden Desires, a Surprising Number of Which Are Not About Marriage. And this, by now you’ve probably gathered, is the book I want you to buy. Hamill, like me, is an unabashed Dexter fan, but unfortunately, I don’t believe Dexter is as appreciated as he should be.
He did win the National Book Award for Paris Trout, and that title remains his most popular, I’m sure. That’s how I came across Dexter. Looking for a vacation read in San Antonio during the early 1990s, I came across Paris Trout in a bookstore. The odd title, which happens to be the name of the very evil main character, drew my attention, but the novelty wore off as soon as I read the first page. This was writing that stripped away pretension and artifice – it sunk right to the bone. I tore through the book then picked up his previous two, God’s Pocket (it’s out of print, according to Amazon.com) and Deadwood – the latter of which is surprisingly similar to the recent HBO series of the same name. (Dexter wanted to sue, but as he implies in his very funny introduction to Paper Trails, his lawyers told him he’d get nowhere.)
Dexter went on to write a dark gangster novel, Brotherly Love (also currently out of print), and a Florida-set mystery called The Paperboy in 1996. Then, much to my frustration, he disappeared. He wrote an occasional screenplay, but for years, even a Google on Dexter, turned up dead ends. He finally resurfaced in 2003 with Train, a semi-noir novel about a black caddy in 1950s Los Angeles and the bond he forges with a quirky, yet mysterious police detective.
And now, we have the non-fiction Paper Trails, a compilation of 82 newspaper columns and essays Dexter wrote for the Philadelphia Daily News, the Sacramento Bee, Esquire, and other publications. The book is not only a wonderful introduction to the literary talent of which Pete Dexter has been blessed, but it’s also a collection of mesmerizing, heartbreaking and hilarious essays and columns that perfectly exemplify so many facets of living life in this sometimes insane world.
Each piece is a beautifully crafted work. The simple tale of a stray cat that wound up on Dexter’s porch becomes an emotional story about loss and the fear that goes with being a parent. Then you have the yarn of two drunken misfits who decide to start a carpet shampooing business and how one almost ends up dead before the first carpet can be cleaned. Dexter also tells the story of a plane trip he took with a silently crying child sitting next to him and his vain attempts to cheer him up, and his extremely funny article on his fascination with the breast size of his neighbor’s wife is worth the $26 price of the book alone. (You can get a copy for $17 on Amazon – hint, hint.)
Paper Trails is simply superb writing from a guy who deserves to have a more prominent place in our pantheon of respected literary giants. You likely won’t find it in the book section of the neighborhood Wal-Mart or Hasting’s. Instead, of course, you’ll find the latest Danielle Steel or Dr. Phil self-help muck taking up space. My suggestion: head to Amazon, the closest Barnes & Noble, or the fine independent Little Rock Bookstore, Wordsworth & Co.
It’s more than worth the trip or shipping costs.
Support an underappreciated writer and discover one all in one shot by picking up Paper Trails by Pete Dexter. (Ecco, 289 pp., $25.95).
Thank you for your time and attention.
Just about every week, you come to this page for a visit. Some of you tell me you look forward to reading my mostly mundane ramblings. Others, I’m sure, might check out this space simply to see what Mr. All About Me is pretentiously writing. Either way, I thank you for your visit. While you’re here, check out our roster of fine sponsors, and support them. And when you visit their establishment, tell them you read about ‘em in Arkansas Weekly.
Now, where was I?
Oh, so I appreciate your readership very much, and as you know, I don’t ask much of you. However, if you will allow me, I do want you to pay very close attention to this particular column. And, I will warn you, this piece concerns a book recommendation.
From the reader comments I receive, I gather that many of you don’t really like the columns where I recommend certain movies, music and books. Heaven knows, I’ve had more than enough people ask me why I raved about films such as The Royal Tenenbaums or Magnolia (“What was the deal with the frogs?” is a consistent question I get regarding the latter flick.).
The book, and it’s really not a book per se – it’s a collection of previously published columns and essays, is by Pete Dexter. Now, some of you may remember that name. I’ve written about Dexter before. He is, I believe, the finest living American writer – period. He didn’t start writing novels until he was 38. Before that he was (in no particular order) an acclaimed columnist, a gas station attendant, occasional barfly, newspaper reporter, construction worker and the victim of a particularly brutal assault.
The assault is somewhat noteworthy. At the time, he was a popular columnist for the Philadelphia Daily News. One piece, about a drug deal gone fatally wrong, offended the brother of the victim in the deal. Dexter, being the gentleman he is, went down to a dive in the worst neighborhood in Philadelphia where the brother tended bar to try to mend some fences.
He left the bar with half of his upper teeth missing. So, he decided to go and get a back-up in the form of his buddy, Randall “Tex” Cobb. Cobb, for those of you who don’t know, almost took the WBC World Championship title from Larry Frazier. He’s also an actor most famous for the darkly funny biker from Hell (literally) in Raising Arizona. He is a big, scary man.
When Dexter and Cobb returned to the bar for some payback, the duo was met by 30 or so men with tire irons and baseball bats. As noted in the new book, Cobb turned to Dexter and said, “I hope this is the local softball team.”
It wasn’t, of course. The second time Dexter left the bar, he was not only still missing most of his upper teeth, but he also had a broken back and pelvis. Cobb suffered a broken arm so badly damaged, many say it cost him his boxing career.
Pete Hamill, the legendary journalist, details the Dexter/Cobb melee much better in his forward to Paper Trails: True Stories of Confusion, Mindless Violence, and Forbidden Desires, a Surprising Number of Which Are Not About Marriage. And this, by now you’ve probably gathered, is the book I want you to buy. Hamill, like me, is an unabashed Dexter fan, but unfortunately, I don’t believe Dexter is as appreciated as he should be.
He did win the National Book Award for Paris Trout, and that title remains his most popular, I’m sure. That’s how I came across Dexter. Looking for a vacation read in San Antonio during the early 1990s, I came across Paris Trout in a bookstore. The odd title, which happens to be the name of the very evil main character, drew my attention, but the novelty wore off as soon as I read the first page. This was writing that stripped away pretension and artifice – it sunk right to the bone. I tore through the book then picked up his previous two, God’s Pocket (it’s out of print, according to Amazon.com) and Deadwood – the latter of which is surprisingly similar to the recent HBO series of the same name. (Dexter wanted to sue, but as he implies in his very funny introduction to Paper Trails, his lawyers told him he’d get nowhere.)
Dexter went on to write a dark gangster novel, Brotherly Love (also currently out of print), and a Florida-set mystery called The Paperboy in 1996. Then, much to my frustration, he disappeared. He wrote an occasional screenplay, but for years, even a Google on Dexter, turned up dead ends. He finally resurfaced in 2003 with Train, a semi-noir novel about a black caddy in 1950s Los Angeles and the bond he forges with a quirky, yet mysterious police detective.
And now, we have the non-fiction Paper Trails, a compilation of 82 newspaper columns and essays Dexter wrote for the Philadelphia Daily News, the Sacramento Bee, Esquire, and other publications. The book is not only a wonderful introduction to the literary talent of which Pete Dexter has been blessed, but it’s also a collection of mesmerizing, heartbreaking and hilarious essays and columns that perfectly exemplify so many facets of living life in this sometimes insane world.
Each piece is a beautifully crafted work. The simple tale of a stray cat that wound up on Dexter’s porch becomes an emotional story about loss and the fear that goes with being a parent. Then you have the yarn of two drunken misfits who decide to start a carpet shampooing business and how one almost ends up dead before the first carpet can be cleaned. Dexter also tells the story of a plane trip he took with a silently crying child sitting next to him and his vain attempts to cheer him up, and his extremely funny article on his fascination with the breast size of his neighbor’s wife is worth the $26 price of the book alone. (You can get a copy for $17 on Amazon – hint, hint.)
Paper Trails is simply superb writing from a guy who deserves to have a more prominent place in our pantheon of respected literary giants. You likely won’t find it in the book section of the neighborhood Wal-Mart or Hasting’s. Instead, of course, you’ll find the latest Danielle Steel or Dr. Phil self-help muck taking up space. My suggestion: head to Amazon, the closest Barnes & Noble, or the fine independent Little Rock Bookstore, Wordsworth & Co.
It’s more than worth the trip or shipping costs.
Support an underappreciated writer and discover one all in one shot by picking up Paper Trails by Pete Dexter. (Ecco, 289 pp., $25.95).
Thank you for your time and attention.
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