Big news first! A few days ago, I finished my new manuscript, the one I got the grant to write. It’s called Murder Most Novel, and it’s a humorous murder mystery. All I need now are some good blurbs and a publisher, so if you know anyone who likes funny books about people getting killed, let me know! Oh, and the title of this post has nothing to do with MY book—there wouldn’t be much point in writing a whodunnit and then telling everyone who did it!

And now onto something completely different. A while ago, our air conditioning unit in the attic leaked and ruined the ceiling in our upper hallway and landing. Ken decided to repair it himself, which meant clearing all the furniture and accessories out. We have a very large flat-to-wall cupboard up there where we’ve kept some of Kate’s favourite childhood books. Ken finally finished the renos and we thought it might be a good time to cull some of the stuff that we had in the landing area. I started going through the books, reminiscing about Molly and her new washing machine, and the hours we spent playing I Spy, which was a popular series of books when Kate was little. And then I found a book called Dinosaur Bob And His Adventures With The Family Lazardo. I couldn’t remember ever buying it or even reading it to Kate when she was little, so I started flipping through it. Here’s the gist of the story: An American family named Lazardo goes on safari and finds a dinosaur which they bring back to the States and it causes a lot of issues but in the end, (spoiler alert), the dinosaur helps their town baseball team win a big game. And that explanation is only slightly longer than the title of the book. But that’s not the weird part. The fact that they go on an AFRICAN SAFARI with their small children and find a dinosaur isn’t even the weird part. No, the thing that absolutely confounds me is this. On the cover of this book (which was written in 1988 by the way) and on almost every page, there is a man wearing a regimental uniform and a turban. He is briefly described on the first page, when the family initially encounters the dinosaur, thusly: “Jumbu, their bodyguard, said nothing.”

Okay, first, why the hell does this family need a bodyguard?! And why is he some kind of Sikh warrior? But then things get even weirder because based on the illustrations, it turns out that he’s not really their bodyguard—he’s actually their MANSERVANT, and on the second page, the Lazardos are lounging on the dinosaur’s back in their swimsuits while Jumbu is in some kind of ceremonial beachwear and he’s SERVING THEM ALL DRINKS. This book was published by Scholastic and can you imagine the pitch meeting?

Author: So there’s this white family and they find a dinosaur…
Scholastic: Like, dinosaur bones?
Author: No. A real dinosaur. And they bring it back to the United States to play baseball for their hometown team.
Scholastic: Interesting. Are there any quirky unexpected characters?
Author: Well, they have an East Indian manservant–
Scholastic: Manservant? That might be perceived as racist. This IS 1988 after all. Better call him a bodyguard.
Author: Oh, okay.

Throughout the entire book, no one talks to him, no one mentions him, even though he’s on almost every single page serving drinks to the family, playing catch with the kids and whatnot, and no one even thinks to ask “Hey Jumbu, you’re a bodyguard, right? Do you think it’s safe to bring a dinosaur back to the Unites States to play baseball?” Because I’m sure all the chaos could have been avoided by letting Jumbu do his damn job. The only time we hear about Jumbu again is on the last page where the family is celebrating the big baseball game win and “Jumbu brought out the musical instruments” so the family could sing and dance. But then it felt like there was some ominous foreshadowing because right at the very end, it says, “Jumbu smiled.” I’ll bet he did. And the sequel to this book is called, Jumbu Gets Even.