In which I review a Book.

What Does This Button Do?: An Autobiography by Bruce Dickinson

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


A most unusual autobiography of a most unusual man. Bruce Dickinson is best known to the world as the lead singer of Iron Maiden. Maiden fans know that he is an avid fencer and airline pilot in his spare time. This book goes into some detail about those and other passions. What you will not get is any real details about his family life, marriages, or even Iron Maiden. Three-year-long world tours are dismissed in a few paragraphs while an entire chapter is spent discussing his work with a famous fencing master. The book is almost entirely missing autobiography standards like dates, places, extensive descriptions, and a narrative flow.

But it works. It reads like you are sitting with Bruce in a series of pubs where he's holding forth on a variety of topics. One day it's learning to fly a Cessna 187, the next his attempts to get a movie about Alastair Crowley made. It's chappy, but for the most part, it works.



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It's sort of like being back in the Army

Remember the old recruiting slogan "We get more done before 9 AM than most people do all day"? Today was a bit like that. Except I slept in a bit and got a lot done before noon. But to be honest, the recruiting slogan took some liberties with the facts. Mostly what we did before 0900 was exercise, shower, and eat breakfast.

I am definitely getting over the pneumonia. No fever in 48 hours, appetite is back, a lot more energy. So I was able to take care of a few things that needed to be done. First on the agenda was getting an INR. The illness and the antibiotics caused my Warfarin level to skyrocket. I tested last week and got a modified dosage to get me through to today, the last day of the Levofloxacin. I asked for the test to be done stat, so they can see if more adjustments are needed, but odds are the anticoagulation clinic will see the results tomorrow.

After that, It was a quick drive to the Bank of America at Valley Fair (which is being completely rebuilt) to get laundry quarters and cash for the next two stops. BofA has already remodeled, and I have to give them credit. There are only five teller windows now. Which accurately reflects their ability to staff those windows. I'd rather wait in line with four of five windows staffed than wait in the same line with 12 empty windows and four working. It's a psychological thing, but it works.

From there, all the way down Stevens Creek to the AAA office. Along the way, I witnessed many data points on my crusade to make it harder to get and keep a California Driver's License. Seriously, a long, perfectly straight 6 lane road and people were being idiots. Once at Triple-A, I got in line to register Darby the Ford Ranger for another year. I love these guys because of their great customer service. The moment they noticed a line was growing, they fully staffed the member services desk. $155 in cash and Darby can use the highways and byways of this great land.

Now I had to drive all the way back down Stevens Creek. Really, the AAA couldn't really fit in an efficient drive plan. It was just handing out there all alone. So I scooted back to Santa Clara to the Adult Education office. Time has come around again for my writing group. I could have signed up for the next two sessions, but I had been only authorized one sign up. Get the next in a few weeks.

As always, the office staff there were amazing. They agreed that the website was never going to work right, and even helped me find the form for ordering a disabled plate, rather than the placard I use.

Into the home stretch! A quick drive brought me to the strip mall where my final two stops lay waiting. My usual haircut (trimmer with a #1 guide and straight-razor touch-ups) cost me $20 with a generous tip. I really like this place, and keep coming back because they do an awesome job, even on a simple request like mine.

One neat moment. As I was getting my head buzzed, an older gentleman came in. He sat down to wait and started chatting with my stylist in Vietnamese! Seeing the look on my face, he explained that he had served in Vietnam in 1969-70, and as it turned out, was stationed near my stylist's home village. When he first started coming to the barber, he recognized her accent. Weird to think that they were that close on the other side of the world only to finally meet here.

But I was done, and with my hat fitting much better now, I staggered down to where I had parked, right in front of Smart&Final. A week of fighting a fever meant I had consumed every drop of fluid in the house. We were dry. No Cokes, no O'Douls, down to one Gatorade and a couple of bottles of water. Time to restock.

I found all the fluid products easily enough, but my one thought for an impulse buy was stymied. I love hot Italian sausage on a roll with a good spicy mustard. If that sounds like overkill to you, I shall point out that I'm eating ghost pepper salsa as I type this. I exist to consume peppers.

Anyway, shopping at Smart&Final can be frustrating, as they have no real schedule for deliveries and do their restocking during business hours. I found the last package of French bread roll,s but the only Italian sausage was one lonely package of mild sausages with a sell-by date that was a couple of days past. Denied, I paid for my fluids with a heavy, sausageless, heart and headed home.

All before noon. Spending the rest of the day reading quietly. And eating ghost peppers.