Two important lessons were taught that hot summer afternoon, when Candy came to George's rescue. George learned that parents usually make decisions for their children for their benefit or protection. The second important lesson George learned was the power of friendship and the bond that people develop with their pets. Just like George's parents and the fictional parents from his favorite childhood TV show, he and his wife Kathy try to teach important lessons to their daughter Devin, using opportunities presented when least expected.
George Gilbert's darkly funny novel, Memoirs and Stories of a Madman, is a story within a story of a former feature writer for newspapers who has fallen from grace, ending up a god-forsaken cab driver in San Francisco. His only escape is writing stories about his alter ego, Wolf, a lecher and drunken ne'er do-well, whose many adventures take him to Mexico. There he meets a bevy of sexually insatiable babes and an American movie producer whose appetites are even more prodigious. Along the way, Wolf has a number of encounters with John Wayne, Cary Grant, William Shakespeare, Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway, and other immortals. Memoirs and Stories of a Madman is uproariously entertaining, a seductive sex farce told with acid wit, imagination, and high style. It also offers an uncompromising look at a decaying society at the end of the millennium in the United States.
In Collecting photographica, George Gilbert, one of this country's most experienced collectors, explains exactly why these collectibles-the equipment, the images, and literature-are so widely sought and presents to his readers an extraordinarily comprehensive guide to this fast-growing fascinating hobby.
Excerpt from Calcium Carbide and Acetylene An old writer, 1 do not recall what one, relates that after sunset Nineveh was illuminated, in its streets and palaces, by lights so brilliant that it was difficult to distinguish night from day. In such an account it is doubtless necessary to make ample allowance for exaggeration, yet the fact remains that we have lost all hope of ever knowing by what kind of light Nineveh and Babylon were illuminated. Still, recent discoveries permit us at least to hope that in our towns lighted by acetylene, this artificial sunlight, as we are wont to call it, night shall be no more regretted than day. For a moment it would be well to glance at the past and revie...