I've been a Dave Barry fan since he was writing columns about his (now twenty-something) two-year old son doing embarassing things in public places. Now Barry is on a new wife and has a brand new two-year old to write columns about. And he still thinks the word (and presumably the concept of) "booger" is funny.
I picked up this book with mixed feelings. He seems to rely more and more on silly humor (boogers, exploding toilets, hilarious names for rock bands) rather than the classic columns of Dave Barry's Bad Habits (my favorite Barry book). And the jackets of his books always have him in some ridiculous pose. I keep saying, "This will be my last Dave Barry book."
But Dave Barry always comes through. I read this latest book cover to cover. His comments on the Republican and Democratic conventions were scathing, his observations at the Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City were deadly, and the serious columns at the end reveal that there is more to Barry than adolescent humor. (His essay from an earlier collection, written after the death of his mother, is a masterpiece.)
So I will ignore the goofy cover photos, the inane titles, and the wacky cartoons, and just read what Barry writes -- solid, mostly humorous, essays.