TIGblogs - Allan Cox

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Book Note: The Foreign Correspondent
All you fans of the global conspiratorial novel by the likes of Clancy, Flynn, Balducci, Ludlum and Follett, I have a veering-away option. Try a book I just completed, The Foregn Correspondent by Alan Furst. As a smooth writer with a suspenseful story not bathed in lurid shock, he places himself in a league of his own. This one's about the Mussolini-Hitler combine. Order conveniently from the Amazon Ferris Wheel nearby.

February 7, 2010 | 1:02 AM

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There
I awake in the bare bedroom, the shade pulled full down over the room’s lone window. Yet the day is bright and the sun casts a thin wall of radiance past the shade’s edge, cutting the room into two triangles. Lying on my side, peeking past the pillow’s upraised corner with one eye I see through the shining wall to the small green glass frog beside the lamp on the table in the corner. From Allan Cox’s collection, “Thin Wall of Radiance.” Copyright©2010, all rights reserved.

February 3, 2010 | 5:02 AM

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Chair
We spentdinner last night with a couple we deem dear.Ease is our union. Three hourstogether, time was as fleet afoot as adetermined west wind. This morning, though,I’m dazzled by that humble chair. I have littlerecollection of how it held me so well and inflictedno discomfort. What better can I say than it wasinvisible? So while theselines are not an ode to a chair—nothing so formal anddisciplined as that—they are a tribute to commoncomfort. Of course there are chairs foreign to ourbodies and ugly in our sight, but when we’reso privileged to settle into one— and forget aboutit— and give ourattention to what brought us there . . . Life support From AllanCox’s collection, “In the Middle of Time.” Copyright©2009, all rights reserved.

January 27, 2010 | 9:01 AM

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Otis
Last week I saw a movie that touched me— “Crazy Heart,” starring Jeff Bridges as a down-and-out, talented country singer and composer. He calls himself “Bad Blake” and refuses revealing his real name. Alcoholic and afflicted with emphysema, he loses the woman he loves. His forehead pressed against the black wide wall of granite, futile hands upraised as if to climb a ladder, he checks himself into a clinic; there takes the cure and gets back on track with his music but not the woman. He seems, face freshened, truly redeemed in what threatens to be a shortened life, reclaims himself onstage with his true name: Otis—an old family designation of honor and masculinity; in the Greek— “keen of hearing.” From Allan Cox’s Collection, “Light Log on the Fire.” Copyright© 2010, all rights reserved.

January 20, 2010 | 1:01 AM

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Book Note: Sixty Feet, Six Inches
Die-hard baseball fans, here it is, a book on your sport by insders for insiders. Truly, it could bore others because this is a cornucopia of detailed strategies in lock-step for pitching and hiting by two of the best who ever played the game. Authors are pitcher Bob Gibson--a man of indescribable intensity and candor, who I once watched on the first base side strike out 17 Detroit Tigers in the first game of the 1968 World Series, and Reggie Jackson, hailed as "Mr. October" for his clutch hitting for the Yankees in World Series play. Both are knowledgeable and entertaining Hall-of-Famers who share secrets they never would have in their playing days. You want to plumb the meaing of greatness in the playing this game? Read this book! Order it from the Amazon Ferris Wheel below right on this page.

January 19, 2010 | 7:01 AM

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