The Marvelous Adventures of Alvin Fernald

The Marvelous Adventures of Alvin Fernald by Clifford B. Hicks (1960). This book was one of my favorites when I was a little kid—the first of many Alvin Fernald books. It's about a precocious kid who is good at making inventions, including an automatic bed-maker, burglar alarm for his bedroom, and bike-mounted cannon for launching rolled up newspapers, for his paper route. He and his best friend and his little sister get caught up in a mystery involving an eccentric neighbor who lives in an allegedly haunted house. Overall, it's a fun book, though a little tedious at times, as are many books with know-it-all young boys who are annoyed by their little sisters. What I realized, the most nostalgic element of the book is the excellent illustrations by Charles Geer—these really messy, expressive, detailed line drawings. He illustrated several of my favorite books, including “The Mad Scientists' Club” books (which came out just a little later than this, and feature slightly advanced kid inventors). Charles Geer is the best. Another thing I really liked is how Alvin and his friend Shoie are always calling each other “old man,” and “old bean.” It's pretty charming. I just wrote something (fiction, not yet published) where a character starts referring to his friend as “old man, old sport,” etc., while under duress, and it really irritates the friend. I was thinking of Orson Welles, maybe in The Third Man, and now I'm wondering if that, or other Welles characters, were his influence here.

Young Adults

Young Adults by Daniel M. Pinkwater (1985) I bought this book on March 15, 1986, in New York. (Back when I used to write my name and the date in books—should I do that again?) It may have been the first Danial Pinkwater book I read. It's a hodgepodge of stuff, including Young Adult Novel, a short novel, and a couple of followups to that, and a lot of great computer art by Pinkwater—all very funny. I remember being pretty amazed by the “Young Adults” sagas—which are stories about a group of misfit boys in high school who have a club called the Wild Dada Ducks. I think I was amazed at how closely he echoed my (and my friends) high school experience—not the specifics so much as the whole feeling. Reading it now—the whole story of how the Ducks single-out a nerd, outsider kid—made me uncomfortable (perhaps because we're more aware and sensitive about “bullying,” now)—but the way it plays out is so unexpected and true to life, it remains funny and fascinating. The subsequent sagas aren't quite as sharp, but they're entertaining and weird. When the kids go off to college it jumps several levels of maturity—it gets quite graphic. This all got me to wondering how current institutions warn (or don't) readers and parents about content. I'm kind of glad I'm not in that world, I guess, since I feel like, if you can read it, it's okay. But then, I remember reading The Godfather when I was in Seventh Grade, thinking, this is a little much, but I'm into it.

Silver Wings for Vicki

Silver Wings for Vicki by Helen Wells (1947) This is the first book of the “Vicki Barr Flight Stewardess Series”—some are credited to Helen Wells, some to Julie Tatham—as are the Cherry Ames Nurse series. I liked this book a lot. It started out slow and took its time—introduced Vicki Barr, her home, and family. She applies for a job with the airline, and it's quite competitive, but she gets accepted, and they fly her to New York for training. This is the first time she's flown, and the description of it is pretty inspired. She meets a few other women who are also in training, and a group of them share an apartment in New York, once they start working. They are all on call—they have to be ready to take a shift with a moment's notice. Eventually, there is a mystery involving smugglers, and it's a good mystery, very believable, not too overblown. What I like best about the book, though, is the detailed description about the job and flying—it's in the mid 1940s, so an interesting time for aviation. I especially liked the description of Vicki's initial flight, and the steak dinner during the flight, followed by coffee and ice cream. Then following the dinner, there's a wax-paper envelope with mints and a cigarette! I know that seems insane now, but I do remember when you could smoke on airplanes—but still, a little packet with after dinner mints and a cigarette—that just made me laugh.

The Merry Mad Bachelors

The Merry Mad Bachelors by Ethelyn M. Parkinson (1962) This book is the sequel to Good Old Archibald (1960), and is about big family in small town (presumably northern Wisconsin) who are a bit eccentric—but not in a annoying, quirky way—kind of like my own family was eccentric. It's a big family—the kids are all boys; one likes to cook in the basement, one likes to give funerals for critters who have died. There's a set of twins, and there's an adopted kid. The narrator is the oldest boy, Trent Conway, and he and his classmates are about to enter Seventh Grade, and they're determined to have a good basketball team. Their newest friend was a rich kid, an outsider, Archibald—from the previous book—now fully accepted with the boys. They make a new friend this summer, Emory, who is an orphan, and is staying with his uncle, who is a dentist, for the summer. The kids' project is to convince the town judge to allow Emory to stay permanently with his uncle—though the judge is steadfastly against it, as the dentist is a confirmed bachelor. So there's a lot convoluted plots to find ways to prove that bachelors can survive without the help of a woman. It gets pretty involved. One of the reasons I like Ethelyn M. Parkinson's books so much is that her sense of humor is pretty sophisticated—though these are definitely written for a juvenile audience. She assumes her reader is intelligent, and can get the jokes, or else will grow into it. The humor is also often very dry, and sometime a bit odd—but never gets stale with me. This book remains one of my all-time favorite kids' books.

The Bungalow Mystery

The Bungalow Mystery by Carolyn Keene (1930) Every time some clouds roll in, Nancy Drew must panic, because within the first six chapters of this book she's caught in two of the worst thunderstorms on record—the first while in a boat, and the second while in her car—and barely escapes death in both instances! In both cases, a “bedraggled” young woman named Laura Pendleton shows up, which would be suspicious, were this a fantasy world where a person is controlling the weather. Laura is an orphaned heiress, hopefully to the Pendleton Woolen Mills fortune, because she and her new friend, Nancy, could desperately use some all-weather gear. This is the third Nancy Drew mystery, which I had never read in either its revised form, or this, the original text. It's a pretty good one, kind of a stripped-down story, ultimately, but a good mystery, with Nancy investigating the questionable guardian of her new friend. There's some real danger, a car chase, and those excellent storms.

The Mystery of the Stuttering Parrot

The Mystery of the Stuttering Parrot by Robert Arthur (1964) This is the second book in the series, Alfred Hitchcock and The Three Investigators, of which Hitchcock, of course, is involved in name only; he “introduces” each mystery, as if The Three Investigators are real people. It's a pretty good strategy, I suppose. I read a lot of this series as a kid, and I recall this one being among my favorites. It's a good mystery—heavy on the mystery, rather than the adventure—which I like. I mean, there is some danger and intrigue, but mostly you're trying to figure it out, along with the kids. My favorite parts of these books were the descriptions of the junkyard where the Investigators have their office and headquarters, with lots of secret entrances. It reminds me of the forts and hideouts we had as kids. I still get excited thinking about that stuff. Even as a mature adult, I still want a secret hideout. If I ever own my own house, you had better believe I will have a secret room—if not several secret rooms. I'd like to think that Robert Arthur, author of the earliest and best Three Investigators books, also wanted a secret hideout, but was satisfied by making an excellent one in his fiction.

Trixie Belden and the Red Trailer Mystery

Trixie Belden and the Red Trailer Mystery by Julie Campbell Tatham (1950) This is the second Trixie Belden book, and the second one I've read. Trixie and her friend Honey Wheeler head out of town, on a summer trip with Honey's governess, Miss Trask, who is driving, pulling a little trailer, which they're camping in. For most of the book they they are staying at a trailer camp called Autoville. The story continues, to some degree, from the first book, when the girls met and became friends, and met this orphan kid, a boy named Jim. Now, the girls are looking for him, as he has kind of struck out on his own. He is quite capable, and also hard to find, but they know he's somewhere in the area, in which there's woods, farmland, and summer camps. It really made me want to travel somewhere with a trailer! The “red trailer” in question belongs to a mysterious family they encounter. Trixie and Honey go exploring on horseback and on foot—and their two dogs go along with them, but also kind of just run around and explore on their own. It's a good mystery with a lot going on—really, multiple mysteries—and there's some really fun, odd characters. This book made me want to read the next Trixie Belden story, and it seems like it's a good idea to read them in order.

The Ghost Writer

The Ghost Writer by Philip Roth (1979) This is the first of a series of books with the character and narrator Nathan Zuckerman, who is to some degree based on Philip Roth. Oddly, the first of his books I ever read was Exit Ghost (2007), which is the last Zuckerman novel. I liked it a lot, but still haven't read much by him—maybe I will, yet—I really like his writing. This story is Zuckerman looking back a couple decades, to a couple of days when he visited this older, famous writer at his home out in the country, among some snowy mountains. It's heavy and kind of claustrophobic—also there is the writer's unhappy wife, and young student—who Zuckerman immediately has a crush on—and also speculates may be the writer's mistress—and also possibly Anne Frank. There's a fascinating, terribly dramatic dinner, and then Zuckerman stays over. During a sleepless night his mind is pretty active, trying to negotiate the tense and uncomfortable social occasion, while also thinking about his conflicts with his family about his own writing. It made me think about this idea that I am confounded by—on one hand, it seems like, as a writer, you're likely to make less impact, on either culture or people you know, than any other way imaginable. On the other hand, it's probably the most likely way to piss people off and lose friends. The feeling I got from this book is kind of the acknowledgment of this contradictory nature of being a writer. It's pathetic, hopeless, and a little sad—while at the same time the most exciting and fulfilling possible way to live—if it's the thing you have to do.

The Great Airport Mystery

The Great Airport Mystery by Franklin W. Dixon (1930) When the Hardy Boys are introduced in this book, the 9th in the series, it's revealed that Frank, the older brother, had had an illness at one point and missed a lot of school, so was held back one year, and is therefore in the same grade as Joe. I don't know if I ever heard that in any other Hardy Boy books. Also, they are finishing up their Senior year of high school, here, so they may have been thinking about, in future books, having them both going off to college—you'd kind of want them both going at the same time, right? I looked at the intro paragraphs in the next book (What Happened at Midnight), and sure enough, they're back in high school—of course—and the way they proceeded is to keep them young—high school age—forever. Anyway, they're heading out to the new airport at the opening, and instead of a crazy driver running them off the road, this time it's a drunken airplane pilot who almost lands his plane on their car! Also, interesting is they go back to Cabin Island, but now in the summer. Of course, they get caught in a big storm—always my favorite part of every book! Then, in another unique twist, Frank and Joe get arrested!—as suspects in the airmail robbery. What's funny is that Chief Collig actually suspects them, and even their dad has to be convinced they're innocent. They're even worried, themselves, that they won't be able to clear their names, so they work extra hard to solve the mystery. In order to do surveillance on the airmail thieves, they hide in the back of the their plane, in a cargo compartment. Remember, this book came out in 1930, so think 1920s airplanes! At one point the steering cable gets caught on the sleeve of one of the Hardys and the plane nearly crashes. It's a totally insane way to proceed in this case, which makes it a pretty lively book. They take along blankets, water, milk, sandwiches, and CAKE. I mean, why not.

Fun With Our Friends

Fun With Our Friends (1963) is a “Primer” from the New Cathedral Basic Reading Program. For reasons I can't really justify, I have collected a lot of children's school books, particularly of the “social studies” area. I guess this would be a book used in “reading” class. For one thing, I guess I loved social studies when I was in school, so it's a bit of crude nostalgia. Also, I'm interested in old books with illustrations (not photos, usually), so maybe I'm mostly attracted to the children's book illustration style—that's true. It goes without saying that many of these books represent only white people, and this one doesn't even show a city, or even small town—it's pretty much wealthy, suburban and rural white people. It's wholesome and happy to an extreme. For the most part, I can't find anything of interest in this one, unless it's used ironically. There are a few oddities, though. In one episode, the father is opening a cardboard box (it's his new grill) and it looks exactly like a cardboard box you'd see today—even the Amazon symbol is on it. Just kidding. Then there's a chapter called “A Ride on Clown”—fortunately, though—or maybe disappointing—Clown is the name of a pony. The best thing I saw in here is an episode where they made a big, toxic, yellow, birthday cake, but then forgot it at home, and so the clever grandmother cut a watermelon in half, stuck candles in it, and used that as a birthday cake. I've never seen that before, but I'm going to keep that in mind for future birthday parties.

Beverly Gray's Scoop

Beverly Gray's Scoop by Clair Blank (1954) This is the first Beverly Gray book I've read. It's one of the later ones, the second to last of 25 or so published from the Thirties into the Fifties. I decided it would be too much to try to find them all and read them in order, so I just tried this one—but I liked it enough that I want to read more. There were a lot of characters for a relatively short kids' book, and a pretty good mystery. Beverly Gray and her three friends live in New York City—all young professionals—Beverly works as a reporter for a newspaper. There is a young woman named Kay who is Beverly's rival at a competing newspaper, so they're always trying to “scoop” each other on stories. This mystery involves the secret of the uncle of one of Beverly's roommates' fiance. The uncle has just returned from an excursion in Egypt, has some kind of secret, but dies before he can reveal it. The whole thing gets pretty convoluted—there are multiple underworld figures involved. There's even a subplot involving jealousy and romance. They all have pretty vibrant lives in Manhattan and surrounding areas, and they eat at restaurants and diners quite a bit, which is, of course, my favorite element. But I also found the mystery and intrigue pretty satisfying.

The Moon Tenders

The Moon Tenders by August Derleth (1958) This is by famous Wisconsin author, August Derleth, who wrote an astounding number of books, but I'm not going to go into his history—for one, that could be a separate biography book—plus, I don't know much, but it's worth looking up—a really interesting character. Also, this title is the first book of a series, I believe called the “Mill Creek Irregulars”—but you have no indication of that on this copy—it appears to be a standalone mystery, involving two high school age boys in “Sac Prairie” Wisconsin. Derleth lived in Prairie Du Sac/Sauk City, and I guess set this series of mysteries in the area, using actual places and geography—so if you lived around there, it would be fun to follow along—or even with a good map, you can find the places. I'm not sure of the time period, but it's much earlier than the publication date, so it has a real old-time feel to it, but it's also not dependent on time-period specifics, so it has a real “timeless” feeling to it. The writing in the book is very good, quite literary. It's a lot more detailed, well-written, and philosophical than most boys adventure books. They are dealing with some real family issues, and ethics. It's just a great adventure, too, about these two friends who build a raft, then take it down the Wisconsin River, a ways. You can actually follow their progress on a map. They go to a place called “Bogus Bluff,” which is a real place, on the river. The mystery gets going quite slowly, so there's a real build to it. They discover a cave, and some counterfeiters, eventually, but I don't want to give away the story. I think anyone I know who likes reading fiction should check this book out—it's really good! And the way it played out—very satisfying—it didn't feel sensational at all—it was actually believable. Also, I felt a real sense of danger, like this visceral feeling of worry for these two boys—I mean, I was sweating for them. The counterfeiters are really great, complex, well-drawn characters, too—I felt like I was watching an old movie, and a good one. This book is kind of hard to find, but worth looking for—and if anyone sees any of the other titles in the series (hard to find, a bit collectable, and expensive), please let me know—I want to read them all—preferably in order.

I'm Thinking of Ending Things

I'm Thinking of Ending Things by Iain Reid (2016) Someone recommended this book to me awhile back, and while reading it I found out that a movie by Charlie Kaufman was going to be based on it. That doesn't happen too often, the timing. A brief description of the book mentions that it's a “thriller”—and I normally stay away from that kind of stuff—thrillers, horror, etc. (though I do love The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson). Oddly, I recently watched The Birds (1963) for the nth time, and I still don't know if I love or hate that movie, but maybe that's its strength. Around the same time, I happened to hear the author, Iain Reid, on a podcast, and I really liked him. Also, there's a snowy picture on the cover, and a lot of snow in the story. I'm a simple person. I want snow, pizza, a fireplace. I also like really commonplace things and conversation, even what most people find “boring.” I loved these characters driving in a car talking, and a lot of the interesting side subjects. However, there are elements that instantly unnerve you, keep you unbalanced, and don't allow you to get footing in reality. That is to some degree the point, and I'm not going to reveal anything further, but I'm not sure I even understand how it all falls together—and that's okay with me—in fact, I like that, usually—but only if there is something underneath it all, like the feeling you get when the weather changes. I heard a good argument recently (in regard to movies based on books) that you should see the movie first. I always felt the other way around—but in this case, you might take in these two forms simultaneously. That might be fun, but more fun with a friend, I suppose, because neither one of these works is going to hold your hand. Ultimately, I'm not going to come around to thrillers, psychological or otherwise, but it's good to get out of your usual habits once in awhile.

Cat Parade

Cat Parade – cartoon drawings by Jeff Curtis (2019) Volume 1. This is a large, full color, 64 page book of drawings from Jeff Curtis, who is an artist, musician, and friend to cats. There is a huge variety of stuff here, from multiple panel cartoons to full page drawings, to multiple page episodes, with many approaches and styles. The one thing it all has in common is, yes, cats—renderings from fairly naturalistic to nearly abstract, comic, demonic, fantastic, even cute. There are cats here for every idea of the essence of cats. If you're like me, you love all animals, but find there is something about cats that goes beyond... I don't know what it is. Or maybe you don't like cats... in which case, I feel sorry for you. But you can change. Everyone can change. Cats are a good place to start! Here's a little known fact: You can be a “Dog Person” and still love cats. If I have to pick a favorite drawing here—I can't really, but maybe the black cat emerging from a cup of diner coffee. That's four of my favorite things in one odd drawing: black cats, diner coffee, magic, and etc.

Moving Day

Moving Day by Helen Train Hilles (1954) This is a charming, old, library book, beat up but indestructible, for kids (it says: “Ages 5 to 8”—which seems narrow to me, but what do I know about children's reading levels). It's especially appealing because of these great wood-cut-like illustrations by Jean Tamburine. It's probably meant to be helpful for kids who are going through the weirdness of moving from their childhood home to somewhere new—which is something I didn't go through as a kid—and I'm thankful about that, and also feel a bit like I missed out on something. This family moves from a house into a brand new housing project apartment block. The kids are pretty alienated by the new place, but they adjust. There are a few odd details—this is over half a century ago, after all. When they are packing, they put a lot of odds and ends into some old-fashioned barrels, you know, like wooden barrels—packed with excelsior. Then the movers just take the barrel. This seems to make a lot of sense—that's the hardest part of moving—all the little stuff that doesn't seem to fit in anywhere, but you have to handle it. I wonder why we've gotten away from using barrels for anything?

Homer Price

Homer Price by Robert McCloskey (1943) This was one of my favorite books when I was a kid, and I've carried around a copy with me ever since, but I hadn't actually read it in so long, it was like a new book to me. It was actually pretty surprising, how strange these six stories are, funny and sophisticated. It's also illustrated by Robert McCloskey, and he's one of the best. I'm not going to take the time to describe each of these stories—they're all quite different—except for one, called “The Doughnuts”—probably the most well-known—a short film was made from it, and you can watch it on youtube. I was surprised to find a piece of paper in the book, with a handwritten short story I wrote, called “The Doughnuts”—I might get around to reading that, sometime—who knows. The story in the book is about a Homer's uncle's lunch counter, where one evening his automatic doughnut machine goes berserk and keeps making doughnuts—like thousands of them. It really appeals to the imagination, and the excellent illustrations don't hurt! As a young man I discovered a diner in my hometown that had a similar doughnut machine—which became one of my personal seven wonders of the world. One more thing—I started writing a novel in the late 1990s, and I've worked on it on and off since—but finally finished it this month. It went through several different titles in its long and involved evolution, and I'm not exactly sure when I finally settled on the title, The Doughnuts, but that's what it is.

Chuck Klosterman X

Chuck Klosterman X by Chuck Klosterman (2017) This book is titled Chuck Klosterman X, I guess, not just X, and is a pretty hefty collection of articles he wrote for magazines, with a good index—I got it out of the library to read one specific thing, but since we have not been able to return library books, I put it in the bathroom and it served as my on-the-toilet reading for a significant part of the quarantine. I hope that doesn't gross anyone out—I wash my hands as much as the next guy, if not more. Anyway, it was a great book for that, really fun and comforting and intellectually stimulating, and I read it from cover to cover. He writes about various popular culture, though about music and sports, primarily—two of my major interests—but the standouts for me were an article about nostalgia, and one about social media, both of them a bit mind-expanding. And also a few of the interviews, particularly ones with Stephen Malkmus and Jimmy Page, because I like those guys. But also, it was fun reading the interviews and profiles about people I knew nothing about. Oh, also, an article about the Cleveland Browns is pretty great. The longest and possibly most impressive piece in the book is an extensive examination of the band KISS—the extent of it! If Klosterman was ever forced to present himself to the “Master of Lunacy”—as in the movie The Ruling Class (1972)—he'd be wise to leave this bit of evidence out of his defense. Hopefully it doesn't come to that, however, because, for me, he does as much as anyone to provide a voice of sanity in this unhinged world none of us are going to escape from.

Ginny Gordon and the Mystery at the Old Barn

Ginny Gordon and the Mystery at the Old Barn by Julie Campbell (1951) This is the third Ginny Gordon book, and she her friends fix up an old barn, call it the Snack Barn, where they will serve food to the locals. She and her friends call themselves “The Hustlers” (this was well before The Hustler with Paul Newman, “Do the Hustle,” and Hustler magazine—Larry Flynt would have been about nine when this book came out, so who knows). The problem with their plan is a “Hillbilly” singer (who plays accordion) from Kentucky has showed up in town and started singing at the Inn (an established place in town), and he's made such a big splash, they're afraid it will kill their new business before it gets established. This singer, whose name is Lochinvar, is so charismatic, you'd think he was Elvis, but this book came out in 1951, a few years before the Elvis' first records. For a long stretch, this book just seems like it's going to be comic episodes of mishaps at the Snack Barn and Ginny's friends trying to thwart the singer, but eventually a really convoluted and exciting mystery develops. I won't give it away, because I assume if you're reading this, you'll likely want to read this book.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling (1997) It's kind of shocking to realize the first Harry Potter book came out 23 years ago—it feels like a very recent thing to me. But then, 1997 feels like just yesterday to me, as well. Because these books were such a big thing, and are such a big part of our culture, I felt like I should read one. If I loved it, maybe I'd read them all, since I'm someone who reads children's books regularly, anyway. I enjoyed this book for the most part, since it's a forward-moving, exciting story, and there are some pretty odd details here and there. But I don't think I'll read more—for one thing, there are seven books—and it seems like they all get longer, too! It's no surprise to me that the book is well-written, and the characters are well-drawn, etc.—I expected that. I was thinking I might find some clue within that points to such an immense popularity, but I can't find it. I'm sure there are countless things written about that, somewhere, but in a way, I'm not sure if I really care, because that would be similar to trying to figure out the why the immense popularity of all the immensely popular books—as well as movies, music, etc.—that have little if any appeal to me. I mean, at least I thought this book was entertaining. A lot of popular stuff I find to be garbage. My major problem with Harry Potter has to do with subject matter—I'm just not interested at all in the entire realm of “wizards”—which includes all the wizard books and movies ever made. Unless someone can convince me that there are actual, real wizards in the world (I'm sure that many people do believe this), whenever I come across a wizard story, I just keep flipping the channel. In a more general way of looking at it, I'm not that interested in “fantasy.” A lot of people love fantasy, and sometimes I wonder why I don't. Is it that they just have a more visceral connection to the metaphorical side of fantasy stories—where someone like me can see it, but not feel it? Or maybe there is something else—say how some people are easily bored by the commonplace, while I'm enchanted by it. I'm not saying one way of looking at things is better than the other, but there sure is a difference! As a final, positive, note, here's a quote I wrote down, from the end of story pretty much, that I like a lot—this is said by Dumbledore, about the scary, evil wizard, who previously, people refused to even name: “Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.” I feel like that is kind of the heart of the whole thing, ultimately—it's a strong and important idea. I do kind of wonder if that idea is explored in further books. Anyway, if that's a message that gets through to kids (or anyone) reading this book, that's a good thing.

X Marks the Spy

X Marks the Spy by Jack Lancer (1967) This is the first of the Christoper Cool TEEN Agent books, a six book series from the late Sixties—I saw several of them at an antique store—I'd never seen them, or heard of this series, so kind of against my better judgment, I bought the first one. As expected, it's kind of a teen version of James Bond, though without the sex, drinking, smoking, and gambling that teens are famous for. The action story is not my thing, but I wanted to get through it—though it was a bit of a struggle. Chris is kind of a frat-boy, and his co-agent is named Geronimo Johnson, who is an Apache. At least they are somewhat of equal stature—he's not just there for comic relief. There's also a young woman agent, Spice Carter, who I suspect Chris is attracted to, but they're just too busy for much fooling around. Probably the most ridiculous escapade in the book is, at one point, in order to attend a crucial event, Chris puts on an impromptu disguise as a Swahili by donning an ornate curtain and applying some spy makeup to his face and hair. Mostly, though, I found the book only mildly offensive, but also, oddly, too contemporary for me. It's funny, a lot of my favorite movies and music is from the early Seventies or so, but with kids' series books, I have to go back a few more decades before I find them interesting, for the most part. I'm not sure why that is.