If I Write a Book…

If I Write a Book… 

The first thing I should do is give it a good title. Over the years I have thought of and had suggested to me several good ones.

“ I was born at a very young age”, or “George 101: a laymen’s guide to living with a perpetually kicked groin.”

My book should include all my heroes and influences growing up, my love for baseball, and a bonus self-help section where I share my secrets and techniques in pursuit and capture of the opposite sex. By implementing and dispatching these techniques with great prejudice, I convinced Shugaluvs to marry me.

It’s a gift, not unlike my propensity to use and even bask in four letter words. My ancestors not only invented the bad word they integrated it into the daily fabric and lifestyle of being a Fisher. Knowing when to turn it in and off is key, and If I wrote a book this would require many pages and possibly a how to video. 

My old man said that the Fisher family raised hell the first half of their life and if they survived, they got religion during the second half. This hypothesis remained unproven in my immediate family as the old man didn’t make the second half. 

But back to my book, that is, if I ever write one. There has to be part cookbook, where I share all my recipes that are easy, high in cholesterol, and can be eaten standing over the trash can or sink. Another staple in that chapter would profile those foods that wind up on my shirt- not only good to eat but good to wear.

A different take than the normal cookbook wouldn’t  you agree?

Then there’s the travel section. Follow me and my well worn passport with at least 3 stamps as we traverse the globe! 

I rode the double decker bus in London and drew a pint; I saw Istanbul’s Bazaar and saw two Turkish dudes fight each other right at the corner of Asia and Europe. 

I saw Fenway, Wrigley, and a half dozen other baseball venues, and  heard the folks in Montreal Canada cheer on the Expos by yelling “Oui Oui”— and they didn’t mean going to the restroom. 

I’ve seen the desert in California, Viva’d in Vegas, Messed around in the potamia of Iraq, made good decisions with Samuel Adams in Boston, and tried to get sweet tea in New Hampshire. Traveling the width and breadth of this great land I have come to one conclusion: there ain’t no place like home— which would be a great title for a book if Judy Garland hadn’t used it already. 

Alas, books should have some continuity or a theme of some sort— if that’s the case then my theme could be best described as all over the damn place. No doubt It would require the assistance of Shugaluvs because if it wasn’t for her, I’d be themeless.

She gives great advice. I sometimes listen to it.  She said “George you should try being brief.” 

Brevity, or lack thereof, is not my strong suit.  I respond by saying “Shugaluvs, you know Bill Shakespeare wasn’t brief.”

(Notice I could have said William but I was being brief).

 She said “Yeah I know but your name ain’t Bill, now is it?”