Monday, December 22, 2025

Favorite Books 2025

 

 


Read a bunch of books again this year.  These are the ones that stood out.

 


Non-Fiction


A Few Words in Defense of Our Country: the Biography of Randy Newman, Robert Hilburn (2024)


Former LA Times music critic chronicles the life of Randy Newman, one of the most versatile and creative musicians of the music culture that evolved beginning in the late 1950s. It’s a long, detailed story, well-documented with interviews from family and other musicians, lyrics and the broad context of the musical environment as it evolved in the second half of the 20th century. Newman is an uneasy fit in that environment throughout much of his career. His music was well-received by his peers but had mixed commercial success. Despite the disappointments, Newman created a body of work over 50 years that ranks among the best of its era. Most interestingly, Newman, who has often appeared cynical, misanthropic and even racist in his music, comes across as an empathetic person. The length is more likely to interest long-time fans rather than the like me than the general reader.



A Walk in the Park: The True Story of a Spectacular Misadventure in the Grand Canyon, Kevin Fedarko (2024)


Lured by the Grand Canyon not far from his home in Flagstaff, Arizona, Kevin Fedarko abandoned his career as a journalist job to become an unpaid boatman guiding a raft full of equipment through the canyon. Although the work fed his longstanding interest in the Grand Canyon, he also came to understand how little he knew of the canyon beyond the river When photographer Pete McBride, with whom Fedarko had worked on assignments, suggested they hike the Grand Canyon end-to-end for a National Geographic article, Fedarko agreed thinking his long fascination and association with the canyon were sufficient to the task. The book’s subtitle pretty much gives away the plot; he and McBride were woefully unprepared for the the trek. Although they linked up with experienced back country Canyon hikers, neither man fully understood the guidance they were offered or had the discipline and endurance to meet a demanding hiking schedule when they began hiking their first section at Lee’s Ferry. It went downhill from there and they had be extracted from the canyon, leaving with no expectation of finishing the assignment.


What’s amazing about the story is how they returned to continue their hike and the community that encouraged them, taught them, guided them and enabled them to actually complete their traverse of the Gran Canyon, a milestone which has been achieved by fewer people than have walked on the moon. Fedarko is a gifted writer who is able to describe the grandeur and intimacies of the canyon in finely rendered prose. His extensive knowledge of the canyon’s geology, hydrology and history give the reader a broad context of the forces defining the canyon and how those forces intersect with human presence and enterprise. Having hiked many miles in the Grand Canyon’s back country I recognized much of their experience (although none of my hikes involved the extreme preparation and challenges of their trek)


A Walk in the Park was a quick read for me. I almost think I should read it again

 


Continental Reckoning: The American West in the Age of Expansion, Elliot West (2023)


Elliott West examines in considerable detail how the acquisition of the American West after the US-Mexico war created an economic and social culture largely separated from the more populous East. The discovery of gold in California drew prospectors, adventurers and investment that spawned a communities well before the US government had any real understanding of the land and peoples in the newly -possessed lands. Cut off from the center of government by geography and limited transportation options, newly arrived Californians began making it work, not so much by modifying known technology to the new environment but, but rather by developing technologies suitable for their circumstances. . Only after the Civil War when transportation and communication improved did the the US government and economic system begin to percolate into the West. By then, however, the culture and methods of the western lands had proven their utility sufficiently to feed back into the East.


Along with to overarching narrative, West also focuses on the gritty details of western expansion, its impact on indigenous peoples, the massive alterations of landscapes and ecosystems and crushing burdens of life on a frontier where much wealth was to be gained but only by the relative few. Continental Reckoning is long (455 pages) and well-researched (135 pages of notes and bibliography) but well-organized and easily readable—all that detail never gets overwhelming or boring.



By the Fire We Carry:The Generations-Long Fight for Justice on Native Land, Rebecca Nagle (2024)


By the Fire We Carry documents the history of the Muskogee Nation and other eastern tribes that were removed to Oklahoma during the early 19th century and their fight to establish their sovereignty over lands that were promised to them for “as long as the grass grows and the streams flow” (my paraphrase. The book follows two tracks. One track is the appeal of a convicted murderer who challenges the State of Oklahoma’s right to try him for a crime he contends was committed on Tribal land and not subject to state prosecution. The second track explores the history of US-indigenous relations during the early years of the federal republic that led to their removal to what was supposedly a permanent home, much of which was ultimately usurped by white settlers. The long legal battle resulted in a victory for tribal recognition, much to the consternation of Oklahoma officials who continue to challenge and seek ways to compromise Native American sovereignty. The victory remains tenuous. Author Nagle concludes: “Sometimes when the law is on our side we win. But more often, we watch the [Supreme Court] depart from law and precedent at will.”


Excuse Me While I Disappear: Tales of Midlife Mayhem, Laurie Notaro (2022)


Laurie Notaro, who wrote some very funny earlier memoirs, brings the same humor to middle age. Many of the tales are specific to the changes women go though and experience but many are still laugh out loud funny to a male reader. Notaro is quite open to her own faults,and shortcomings; they are the focus of her tales as she tries to figure out how to cope or even just understand. I don’t doubt that the experiences are real although the telling may involve some exaggeration. But that’s the fun of the whole thing. Notaro is able and more than willing to be the butt of her own story if she can get a laugh out of it. She succeeds.



Charlottesville: An American Story, Deborah Baker (2025)


A detailed account of the events leading up to the infamous 2017 “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville, Virginia. Deborah Baker presents what seems like a minute by minute narrative of the of the neo-Nazi tiki torch parade that occurred at the University of Virginia on Friday night before the rally and the events of the following day in downtown Charlottesville which saw violent confrontations between the neo-Nazis and local anti-fascists that led to scores of injuries and one fatality. Baker places the weekend events in the context of the post-WW2 neo-Nazi movement in America and Virginia’s history of racism throughout much of the 20th century. Her account gives much credit to local anti-fascist organizers who confronted the neo-Nazis who were far better prepared for violence and documents the failure of local and state law enforcement to anticipate the threat of violence in advance or control violence when it erupted.



Life After Dead Pool: Lake Powell’s Last Days and the Rebirth of the Colorado River, Zak Podmore (2025)


The Millennial Drought which has affected the US southwest since 2000 has reduced the level of the massive Lake Powell that filled Glen Canyon and many side canyons of the Colorado River since the completion of the Glen Canyon Dam in the 1960s. As a result the upper reaches of the lake have receded, exposing long-drowned and allowing those areas to begin recovering as native plants and animals return. Zak Podmore explores the opportunities for nature to restore at least some of the natural areas that were long thought to be permanently lost. Life After Dead Pool traces the history of western water use, water law, dam building and the impact of climate change to identify the possibilities for “life after Lake Powell”. Along with the statistics, studies and policy debates. Podmore provides much first-hand evidence to demonstrate the possibilities for recovery and realistic management of water and cultural resources in the 21st century.



Riding Like the Wind: The Life of Sonora Babb, Iris Jamahl Dunkle (2024)


Sonora Babb grew up in the early 20th century in what would become the Dust Bowl of the 1930’s. Her family was poor, often to the point of near starvation and subject to the chaos of an addicted gambler and abusive father and husband. Self taught to read from newspapers pasted to the bare walls of a dugout shelter in eastern Colorado, she was a keen observer of the land and people around her and began writing about her observations. As a teenager she found some employment at local newspapers and gradually developed her craft and gained some local and national notoriety as a poet. In her twenties, Babb relocated to Los Angeles, publishing well-received short stories based on her childhood and early adult experiences. During the Great Depression she reported on migrants escaping to California from the Dust Bowl. Those experiences became the basis for her first novel, Those Who Are Unnamed, which could not find a publisher after the publication of John Steinbeck’s novel, The Grapes of Wrath, which became THE Dust Bowl Novel and was based in part on Babb’s field notes and never credited to her. Riding Like the Wind chronicles the life of this gifted, determined writer who struggled to gain recognition and maintain independence in an era when women were often ignored.



Fiction


Fever Beach, Carl Hiaasen (2025)


Carl Hiassen has a definite formula: a somewhat renegade individual with some agency (money, skill, etc.) who is outraged at entitled persons/organizations who despoil Florida’s environment encounters a normal person in some sort of difficult situation linked to said entitled persons/organizations planning yet more harm to the land. And despite the formula (which is based on the four or five Hiaasen novels I’ve read), the stories are always fun to read. It is very much in that tradition, featuring right wing wackos, a corrupt, clueless nepo baby, greedy developers and a determined protagonist. The plot is too complex for me to even attempt to condense but it was, like previous novels Sick Puppy and Stormy Weather, an engaging story and a fun read.



Brotherless Night, V.V. Ganeshananthann (2023


Set in Sri Lanka during the 1980s civil conflict between the Sinhalese majority and Tamil separatists, Brotherless Nights follows 16 year old Shashi and her family as the war gradually takes over their lives. Her oldest brother, a promising medical student, is killed during ethnic violence in the capitol, Columbo. Not long after, her two other older brothers and close friend K join the Tamil Tigers, one of five different Tamil factions and the one seeking to dominate the separatist movement. Later, as Shashi is in her first year of medical school, K brings a wounded cadre to her for treatment and subsequently recruits her to work in a Tiger clinic where she treats wounded Tamil cadres and injured civilians. He two brothers attempt to recruit their youngest brother who rejects their pressure, citing the war crimes committed by the Tigers as reason not to support them. At the same time, Shashi is also aware of these atrocities and her own complicity in serving. The plot moves gradually so that the reader feels the growing presence of the violence and watches as it draws even closer. This is war as experienced by civilians and while the violence is mostly offstage, its ominous presence becomes all-encompassing and Sashi must make a fateful choice. A very compelling read.




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Sunday, June 01, 2025

Muttshuttle Songs

 Unusual call leads Independence police to car filled with dogs | Kansas City Star

(not an actual mutshuttle) 


When I posted my remembrance of my long-time friend, Peyton Coyner, I included "Muttshuttle Man", his parody of Billy Joel's "Piano Man.  Apparently, those long hauls up and down the East Coast were pretty inspirational.  Here are all of the other parodies he wrote during his travels.  

I copied the lyrics from Peyton's emails so the formatting and spacing varies somewhat.   Also included links to the original music and lyrics for those who may not be familiar with the originals.

 

My Dog

(apologies to Smokey Robinson)

I've got teeth marks on a table leg.
When it rains outside, I’ve got “walkies” anyway.
I guess you'd say
What can make me bitch this way?
My dog (my dog, my dog)
Talkin' 'bout my dog (my dog).

I've got so much hair now the bears envy me.
It’s in my sweaters, my soup and the air that I breathe.
I guess you'd say
What can make me whine this way?
My dog (my dog, my dog)
Talkin' 'bout my dog (my dog).

Hey hey hey
Hey hey hey
Ooh

I don't have no money, fortune, or fame.
Vet got all the riches, baby, I had to my name.
I guess you'd say
What can make me growl this way?
My dog (my dog, my dog)
Talkin' 'bout my dog (my dog).

I've got white hair on a black wool vest.

With my dog.

But, Lord, you know, she’s just the best
That’s my dog

music and original lyrics 

 

Barely Fed Hillbilly Hound

(apologies to Lester Flat and Earl Scruggs)

Come and listen to my story ‘bout a dog named Jed,

Kept on a chain and hardly ever fed,

Served up a minimum of water, care and food,

Mostly what he got was babblin’ crude.

 

Cussin’, that is.  Foulmouth.  Redneck eloquence.

 

First thing you know, ol’ Jed’s a bag of bones.

His owner said, “Won’t hunt.  Better find hisself a home.”

He dumped him in the woods and Jed was in a fix,

Covered all over now with chiggers, fleas and ticks.

 

Parasites, that is.  Pestilence.  Tiny vampires.

 

Well, this here story ends on a happier note.

The shelter folks got Jed and debugged his ol’ coat.

They fed him up real good – you all should come and see

What those fine folks dish out: canine hospitality.

 

Frontline, that is.  Shots.  Kibble.

 

Y’all come on down, now, ya hear?

 

music and original lyrics link

 

No-One-Sees-Me-Ville

(apologies to Jimmy Buffet)

Munchin’ cheap kibble
But can’t get a nibble
From all of those ‘dopters looking to buy
They pass by my pen here

As if I was stale beer,

Or a heap of old shrimp too rotten to fry.

Chorus:
Wastin’ away again in no-one-sees-me-ville

Searching for some way to get bought
Some people claim that there's a breeder to blame
But I know it's nobody’s fault

I don't know the reason
I stayed here all season
Nothin to show but this mange, which I chew.
But it's a real beauty
All over my booty
How it got here I haven't a clue.

Chorus:
Wastin away again in no-one-sees-me-ville

Searching for some way to get bought
Some people claim that there's a breeder to blame
Now I think
Hell, it could be my fault

I ran outta good luck
And here’s where I got stuck
Snagged by a dog catcher way far from home

But there's mutts in this slammer

And soon they will yammer
That ear-splitting din that helps us hang on

Wastin away again in no-one-sees-me-ville

Searching for some way to get bought
Some people claim that there's a breeder to blame

But I know it's sure not my fault
Yes and some people claim that there's a breeder to blame
And I know it's sure not my fault

music and original lyrics link

 

Born In The County Pound

(apologies to Bruce Springsteen)

Born down in a full up pound
The first kick I took was when I hit the ground
You end up like a dog that's been beat too much
Till you spend half your life just covering up

Born in the county pound, I was born in the county pound
I was born in the county pound, born in the county pound.

Got in a little hometown stir
So they put a chain around my fur
Dragged me off to a fighting school
To turn me into a killing tool


Born in the county pound, I was born in the county pound
I was born in the county pound, born in the county pound.

Come back soon to the SPCA
‘Doption girl said “There ain’t no way.

He’s just too rough and mighty mean
To make it here in the rescue scene.”

 

I had a brother at Michael Vick’s
Trained by bullies – wasn’t for long
They're still there, he's all gone

Down in the shadow of the dumpster here
Or out in the woods tryin’ to catch a deer.
I'm four years burning down the road
Nowhere to run aint got nowhere to go

Born in the county pound, I was born in the county pound

Born in the county pound, I'm a long gone pit bull from the county pound
Born in the county pound, I was born in the county pound
Born in the county pound, I'm a cool rocking pit bull
from the county pound

 music and original lyrics link

 

I Want My Doggers Here

(apologies to Mark Knofler)

Now look at them drivers - that's the way you do it
You shuttle mutts up to New Jersey
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Puppies for nothin' and your mutts for free


Now that ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Lemme tell ya them guys ain't dumb
Maybe get a blister on your wheel hand
Maybe get a callus on your bum


We gotta install Rottweiller pups there
Custom shelter deliveries
We gotta move these cross-breeding Beagles
We gotta move these little Shelties


(See the poodle with the full coif and the blow dry
Yeah buddy that’s his own hair
That little poodle got his own big cage there
That little poodle needs a lotta care)


We gotta install Rottweiller pups there
Custom shelter deliveries
We gotta move these cross-breeding Beagles
We gotta move these little Shelties

 

I shoulda learned to drive the big trucks
I shoulda learned to drive the van
Look at that Pit Bull, she got it stickin' in the cage door
Just flirtin’ ‘cause she can.


And he's up there, what's that? Rock station noises?
Increase the volume like a chimpanzee
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Get your puppies for nothin' get your mutts for free


We gotta install Rottweiller pups there
Custom shelter deliveries
We gotta move these cross-breeding Beagles
We gotta move these little Shelties


Look a' here
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
You shuttle mutts up to New Jersey
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Puppies for nothin' get your mutts for free

 

Puppies for nothin' get your mutts for free
Puppies for nothin' get your mutts for free

Look at that, look at that
Puppies for nothin' get your mutts for free
I want my, I want my, I want my doggers here
Money for nothin' and chicks for free
(Fade)
Puppies for nothin' get your mutts for free

music and original lyrics link

 

Battle Hymn of the Formerly Blind Muttshuttler

(You know the tune)

 

Mine eyes have seen the mists and fog of cataracts, alas,

I’ve stumbled and I’ve fallen down upon my sorry (bottom),

Unable to start my chain saw, drive, or even mow the grass,

For months not marching on.

 

Glory, glory, Harman Eye Center,

Glory, glory, Harman Eye Center,

Glory, glory, Harman Eye Center,

I’m back to shuttling mutts!

 

Harman himself has fixed the thing with scalpel in his hand,

He’s loosed the fearful homeless mutts right into the van

I’ll drive ‘em up to Jersey now because at last I can,

They’re finally marching on!

 

Glory, glory, howlelujah,

Glory, glory, howlelujah,

Glory, glory, howlelujah,

I’m back to shuttling mutts!

 

 

Snob Dogs of London

(apologies to Warren Zevon)

 

I saw a Min Pin with a menu in his mouth

Walkin' through the streets of Soho in the fog

He was lookin' for a place called John Bull Pets

Gonna get a big dish of “Bangermash For Dogs”


Aaahoo! Snob dogs of London 

Aaahoo! Aaahoo! 

Snob dogs of London 

Aaahoo!


Ya hear him howlin' around your kitchen door

Ya better not let him in

Little old Lay-Z-Boy mutilated late last night

Snob dogs of London again


Aaahoo! Snob dogs of London
 

 Aaahoo! Aaahoo! 

Snob dogs of London 

Aaahoo!


It's the fully-coiffed breeds, who ran amok in Leeds

Lately they’ve been overheard in Mayfair

You better stay away from them

They'll rip your socks off, Jim

Huh, I'd like to meet their barber


Aaahoo! Snob dogs of London

Aaahoo! Aaahoo! 

Snob dogs of London 

Aaahoo!


Well, I saw a wee Corgi walkin' with the Queen

Doin' the snob dogs of London

Named “Cheney, Jr.” ‘cause ‘e’s so bloody mean

Doin' the snob dogs of London

I saw a Pommipoo drinkin' a Perrier at Trader Vic's

And his hair was perfect


Aaahoo! Snob dogs of London

Aaahoo! Aaahoo! 

Snob dogs of London 

Aaahoo!

 

music and original lyrics link

 

Alas, there will be no more of these.

 

 

 



 

 

 

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Monday, May 19, 2025

Peyton Coyner (1946-2025)

Carol & Peyton in 2016

My friend, Peyton Coyner, died May 16. He was just shy of 79. We met as college students at the University of Virginia in 1969, were both Rolling Stones fans and partied together during my senior year. He was the only person I knew in Charlottesville when I returned to graduate school in 1972 after military service.  He patiently listened to my stories of Vietnam and helped me become a civilian again.  Our friendship deepened based on shared values, including a strong dislike of Richard Nixon. In 73-74 we were neighbors a few miles apart on Old Lynchburg Road.  We spent much time at one house or the other.  That was the year Peyton was dating his future wife, Carol, beginning a relationship that would more than half a century. 

 

Our friendship continued after I moved to Richmond in 1974. I was a frequent visitor to the home he shared with Carol in Crozet while he began planning to build a house in rural Nelson County. He was aghast when I decided to move to Phoenix, Arizona in 1982 (“Why would you want to live in that hell hole?” was more or less what he asked. I’m not sure I had a satisfactory answer but I went anyway.) One of my biggest concerns was how the move would affect a friendship that had evolved into family-adjacent territory. I needn’t have worried. Peyton became a regular correspondent, sending cards, clippings, pictures and song parodies. His letters and cards (envelopes, too) were works of art, generously illustrated with rubber stamp images and the occasional sketch. Along with the regular correspondence, he and Carol welcomed me on many return trips to Virginia to visit friends. Their home became my anchor to Virginia.


During those years our friendship deepened despite the almost 3,000 miles between us. Peyton may have thought Phoenix was a hell hole but he loved southern Utah and I traveled there with him several times. We car camped in Zion and Bryce Canyon National Parks and other points in 1995 and canoed the Green River through Labyrinth Canyon the following year. (He taught me how to steer a canoe on that trip.) In 1999 he joined my brother and me rafting the San Juan River. A few years later he was one of my primary Trail Angels when I hiked the Appalachian Trail. After hearing my description of trail magic (people serving food and drink to hikers on the AT) Peyton began doing the same at the Tye River crossing not far from his home. In 2011 he visited Olympia and we camped three nights at Mt. Rainier National Park. We canoed the Okeefenokee Swamp in 2014.


Peyton was always willing to share himself, whether through his fine stained glass artistry or community service. His house was filled with his glass creations; many other creations made their way to friends’ homes (including mine). During a long retirement beginning in the mid-1990s Peyton helped establish and construct the Almost Home Animal Shelter that dramatically increased adoption rates in Nelson County. He continued his commitment to animal rescue by driving animals from Virginia as far north as Boston for adoption(“mutt shuttles”) and he regularly transported injured animals to local wildlife centers. He was instrumental in converting the abandoned Blue Ridge Railroad right-of-way to a hiking, biking and horseback riding trail along the Piney River in southern Nelson County. In 2005 he volunteered to repair damage in Mississippi after Hurricane Katrina. On a smaller scale, Peyton kept the Rockfish River clear of boating hazards; one canoe trip I took with him involved cutting “strainers” out of the way, a task that occasionally sent up rooster-tails of water when his chainsaw blade cut below the surface.


My world is diminished with Peyton’s passing but the loss, while particularly acute at the moment, in no way diminishes the joy and companionship that he brought to my life. I am fortunate to have shared so many years of friendship with him.


Peyton was a fine man and good friend. I will miss him.


The best epitaph I can offer is Peyton’s own words. It’s one of many parodies and speaks to the kind of person he was.


Mutt Shuttle Man (w/ apologies to Billy Joel.) 

 

It's six a.m. on a Saturday
As the regular crowd shuffles in
There's an Amherst gal working next to me
Stuffin’ pups in a plastic cage
pen
She says, "Man, do you think these are Rotties here?
I'm not really sure if they are,
But they’re sad and they’re sweet and they got damn big feet
They’ll be lucky to fit in the car."

La la la, di de da
La la, di d
e da da dum

Chorus:
Bring us some dogs,
you’re Mutt Shuttle Man
Bring us some dogs today
Well, we're all in the mood for some Malamutes
Bring some Beagles and Blue Ticks our way.

Now
the New Jersey shelters have friendly folk,
And they get all
our puppies for free
Most will quickly be sold, but down here dogs grow old
While there's some place that they'd rather be.
They’d say, "Lord, I believe they’ll be killing me."
As the wag fades away from
their tail
"Well
, I'm sure I could be a great lap dog
If I could get out of this jail
."

La la la, di de da
La la, di d
e da da dum

Oh, I seem an interstate junkie now
Who never has time for
his wife
Haulin’
hounds small and big, I am stuck with this gig
And probably will be for life
And the waitresses don’t share my politics
Other drivers all seem to be stoned
As they're phonin’ and textin’ and tweetin’,
Guess it's better than dyin
g alone.

Chorus
Bring us some dogs,
you’re Mutt Shuttle Man
Bring us some dogs today
Well, we're all
up here looking for Pointers,
Bring some Shelties and Shepherds our way.

It's a pretty good crowd for a van load
And
the shelter guy gives me a smile
'Cause he knows that it's me who’ll help mop up the pee
While we
stretch out some lives for a while
And the van, it sounds full of carnivores
And the steering wheel smells just like fleas
And the folks at the charit
ies laugh at my parodies
And say, "Man, why are you writin' these?"

Oh, la la la, di d
e da
La la, di d
e da da dum

Chorus:
Bring us some dogs,
you’re Mutt Shuttle Man
Bring us some dogs today
Well, we'
ve all got our hearts set on Labradors
Bring some
Dobies and Dachshunds our way

 

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