Bill Clinton's long-awaited memoir was released today to a voracious reading public who may become less enthusiastic as they slog through "My Life," according to folks who have actually read it.
At 957 pages, Clinton's memoir could probably stone an ox. I want to read this book, but am put off by reviews of it as being dry, flavorless, and overly long. Susan Feeney, a producer at NPR (and a very nice woman), said in an online extra that the book is "as accessible as Clinton's worst, wonkiest speech."
Ouch.
That's too bad, as Clinton can be very compelling, inspiring and folksy. It's unfortunate that that didn't seem to translate into a good read.
In my life: I'm taking a one-week online business journalism class that's supposed to last 1 1/2-2 hours a day, but I find myself spending much more time on it than that. Call me slow, but deciphering the 40 pages of 7-point text in legal and financial jargon of a company's schedule 14A without prior in-depth knowledge of the financial world is #%$!*@ difficult. But I'm slowly learning.
One thing I'm figuring out is the total retirement package of a CEO of a certain company, and boy, do the bean-counters make it difficult for the average reader. One thing is very clear: Company chiefs make an obscene amount of money. OBSCENE. The average CEO's annual compensation package is enough to power a small African country with change left over. I know that's not a newsflash, but it's particularly galling once you see it in black and white for yourself.
One last thing: My (albeit peripatetic and feeble) attempts to become a vegetarian are all for naught. I ate a medium-rare juicy hamburger today and savored every bite. And I'm looking forward to the next one.
I guess Clinton is trying to tone down, eh? Not everyone can be a great writer.
ReplyDeleteI would never become a vegetarian, even if I was so desperate to lose weight. I used to like a guy who lived in Riverside who was a vegetarian. Needless to say, whenever we went out we had to eat at a place that had other alternatives to meat. I remember we were at a Fourth of July party at his friend's house and he barely had anything to eat, just a few chips he said! I felt sorry for him. He was so skinny. I like skinny guys, but there's no excuse for not eating, even if you're at a party where there's no veg stuff. He could have had a salad or something. Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed your burger - I could go for one right now - LOL!
I used to belong to a theater group from Claremont College and it seemed like most of the people who were members were vegetarians. I was really bummed out. We stopped at a vegetarian place in West Covina where it took forever for them to cook up the food. Heck, I could have been across the street at Taco Bell in five minutes! We had soy burgers. Ughhhh...never again! I had to eat vegetarian pizza with them. I should have ordered my own food. It's not like my mom didn't give me money (I was 16 at the time). Anyway...sorry for rambling on! :-D
Good luck with your online journalism class!
I'm snickering over here reading about your on-line course. It's a nice snicker, I promise, sweet and carmelly and full of nuts! I feel your pain...Financial mumbo-jumbo, yowzah!
ReplyDeleteI had to get my Series 6 & 63 securities licenses for my job not so very long ago. Not because I'll be talking to any clients about variable life insurance or mutual funds; I'm not really sure why I had to get it other than the fact that my boss loves torturing me, methinks. Anyway, I had to sit in a classroom in San Francisco for a week listening about ex-dividend dates and accumulation units and blah blah blah. Lucky thing, the teach had a sense of humour and a knack for story-telling. So I sat there, listening. And it dawned on me that I was becoming privy to information that few people bother to learn or want to or CAN, mostly for the reason you listed in your post (...deciphering the 40 pages of 7-point text in legal and financial jargon of a company's schedule 14A without prior in-depth knowledge of the financial world...). The financial world is a rarified place, secret and wizened (Machiavelli comes to mind). I felt helpless and unwelcome, the fat kid on the outskirts of the ballgame, not knowing the rules, wanting desperately to play.
The compensation of which you write is just the tip. Just the very tip of a world built on pinnacles and valleys, where few have the cleated shoes, the rappelling ropes, the map and the stamina to weather the climb if you are not already near that peak.
Knowledge is daunting and vicious in some ways. There are days I want to hold on to my Pollyana braids and remain innocent. But I reach up only to find the braids already unplaited. Too late.