I's Capades
It's once again that special season of tinsel and fruitcake, of electric choo-choos and red-nosed ruminants amongst the wreathes and rushes. A cheery time of the year when we feel obligated to ask that you set aside a few scant hours to remember the Neediest. Consider your own privilege when you think of these unfortunates –– the affection you share via $10 Secret Santa gifts and strained family dinners –– and give charitably to those who can only know peace through anonymous approbation. The cost of a memoir, even in ebook form, will make you feel an enveloping warmth (including a flush when the credit card bills come due in Jauary) and, just maybe, some gratitude that you're not the has-been who still needs to be loved by every creature on earth.
To review these egotourism guides we've reached out to E. Basil St. Blaise, the caustic critic who loves to lay life stories to rest. We found him chasing a White Christmas up the East Coast in his Mobile HQ. "Global warming is making the phenomenon a tougher get in this part of the country," he bemoaned, "unless you're willing to cross over into the dreaded Lake Effect Snow Zone. I don't like Buffalo Wings enough to completely abandon Civilization."
He was somewhere in Connecticut and thinking of parking at the foot of a ski slope with snow machines on Christmas Eve to approximate the effect. "I love to 'shilly-chalet' and pretend I've just gotten off the Black Run when I dip into my first toasty cocktail in my motorized 'lodge.' I'm all about après and have perfected a cocoa and mulled red wine cocktail –– The ZigZag –– that will have you missing more than a few gates as you hurtle downhill. I'm embarrassed to admit that one year I hit bottom –– I found myself unconscious, buried under an 'avalanche' of throw pillows, in the wee hours after the heater failed. I had to be rescued by Josef, my faithful Affenpinscher, who wore a tiny keg of brandy strapped to his collar.
Now to the matter at hand –– my survey of this year's selection of remiss reminiscences. The memoir is the most popular category in non-fiction these days, thus this orgy of oversharing. So cue up your Amazon account and let's wallow!
A Mine Field
The Last Dream by Pedro Almodovar –– A wet one.
Want: Sexual Fantasies by Anonymous by Gillan Armstrong –– The XXX files.
The Road Is Good: How a Mother's Strength Became a Daughter's Purpose by Uzi Aduba –– Adubious.
From Under the Truck by Josh Brolin –– Must be Joshin’.
Don’t Look Back, You’ll Trip Over by Michael Caine –– Fall Caine-o.
Cher: The Memoir by Cher –– Cher and Cher alike.
A Thousand Threads by Neneh Cherry –– Cherry pickings.
Connie: A Memoir by Connie Chung –– Wag Chung.
Something Lost, Something Gained by Hillary Clinton –– Ungainly.
Who Knew by Barry Diller –– Filler Diller.
Some of these are written with a whit of wit in the author's own hand, but I tend to think of the majority of them as ghost stories. Fearful accounts of the cheers and boos (and booze) that haunt the 'author' penned by spectral presences that are oft interred on the acknowledgments page.
The Friday Afternoon Club: A Family Memoir by Griffin Dunne –– Dunne and done.
Be Ready When the Luck Happens by Ina Garten –– Bare-faced Contessa.
Unleashed by Boris Johnson –– Boris bad enough.
elle by Elle McPherson –– elle stinko.
Sonny Boy by Al Pacino –– Sonny Boy blew.
From Here to the Great Unknown by Lisa Marie Presley & Riley Keough –– Elvisceration.
Runaway Train: or, The Story of My Life So Far by Eric Roberts –– Emoter bored.
The House of Hidden Meanings by RuPaul –– Drags out.
You Never Know by Tom Selleck –– I never care.
Best Possible Place, Worst Possible Time: True Stories from a Career in Hollywood by Barry Sonnenfeld –– Direct to tape.
I picture the reader as a panting clergyperson in a confessional fingering their rosary as they listen to the famous sinner on the other side of the screen judiciously spilling their teas. I need to say three Hail Marys after most of my pans.
A Very Private School by Charles Spencer –– Spanking knew.
Under a Rock by Chris Stein –– Dirty Blondie.
Burn Book by Kara Swisher –– Gladly.
Melania by Melania Trump –– Knauss droppings.
What I Ate in One Year by Stanley Tucci –– Tucci feely.
My Escape from Hollywood: Unapologetic, Unfiltered, and Unashamed by Maitland Ward –– Psycho Ward.
An American Story: Everyone’s Invited by Wilmer Valderrama –– Moulderama.
Brothers by Alex Van Halen –– Eddie monster.
Walking Disaster by Deryck Whibley –– Deryck and the dumb I know.
What Have We Here? by Billy Dee Williams –– Lando make believe.
Hark Wild
And here's a selection of Holiday albums for all the non-readers on your list, which is to say, your list.
Christmas Bells Are Ringing / Clay Aiken –– Ding dung.
Christmas Once More / The Carpenters –– Not including Jesus.
You For Christmas / Kelly Clarkson –– Doesn’t it start with C?
It’s Officially Christmas / Dan + Shay –– Noel contendre.
Holiday Seasoning / Jimmy Fallon –– Fallon hard times.
Ella & Louis Wish You a Swinging Holiday / Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong –– Scatting on thin ice.
Josef likes the Ella and Satchmo album the best –– for a hot dog he's always been a bit of a cool cat.
Sleigher / Ben Folds –– Sleigh over.
When I Think of Christmas / Vince Gill & Amy Grant –– I never think of these two.
The Gift of Love / Jennifer Hudson –– Hudson bays.
Joy / Jordin Sparks –– Joy stink.
The Christmas Record / Little Big Town –– Little Big horns.
Glad Tidings From Sun Records / Various –– Sun belts.
A Classic Christmas / Mickey Thomas –– Yule regret this.
It’s Christmas / Tower of Power –– Power outage.
The Jethro Tull Christmas Album - Fresh Snow At Christmas / Jethro Tull –– It's Snow use.
I'd recommend the Sun collection as I write this on the longest night of the year. We could all use a few warming rays as winter gathers about us. Very Merry to all and to all a good nog!"
Previous St. Blaise gift guides:
Advent Horizon
En Pointe of Purchase
Bells & Wassails
Gift Rapt
The Gift of Grab
Stocking Suffers
Listen to E. Basil St. Blaise on his Critic's Corner Podcast.
12/22/24
