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Never Say Excuse Me Louder Than You Burp
Bob Deaton takes a whimsical look back at the hazards of growing up clueless in Indiana in the 1950s. It is a gonzo take on a time and place in which vomiting in a grade school cafeteria is a political act, prom dresses are impenetrable fortresses of taffeta and rebar, and a cigar-smoking dentist favors conspiracy theories but not anesthesia. Zealous summer camp chaplains routinely recruit Manchurian Candidates for Jesus, but basketball reigned supreme as the real state religion. Even churches field teams, but at their own peril, for a defeat on the court could have serious theological "St. Mary?s 55 ? First Methodist 49, Meatless Fridays Commence for Methodists on March 1"
182 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 1, 2005
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May 18, 2025
The cover picture says it all. You look at the tubby kid in the ill-fitting jacket with the unfortunate hair cut and the doofus grin and think, "Where WERE this boy's parents?"
Contrary to appearances, the author was not an orphan. He grew up in the days before helicopter parenting and self-esteem building. It was a time when parents considered that their obligations began and ended with providing a roof, basic food, and ugly clothes. The rest was up to the kid and, clearly, it took this poor guy a while to figure things out.
His stories of being a boy in a not-too-classy neighborhood in a small Indiana town are some of the funniest things I've ever read. It was a time of unchallenged (usually tacky) religious displays on courthouse lawns. Were we any holier for it? Not that I remember. It was a time when pet-ownership was a casual affair. It was a time when kids (especially boys) were free-range chickens. Kids from that era have some great memories, IF they survived.
There was little by the way of "organized recreation" and most of that was pretty disorganized. Indiana was (and is) basketball-mad and yet even the klutzy author warmed the bench of a local team. There was no "sex ed" but teens managed to figure it out and the occasional shot-gun wedding provided much needed entertainment. There were no self-service gas stations and a customer purchasing a dollar's worth of gas received the kind of attention that's now reserved for billionaires buying yachts.
It was the 1950's - a era which looks better in the rear-view mirror than it did at the time. Still, this author has a great talent for capturing the eccentric characters who peopled his childhood and if he exaggerates a bit here and there I don't hold it against him. I loved his stories of childhood and I enjoyed his stories of his awkward teen years. It's a good read. Those of us who are his contemporaries will find plenty to relate to and you young folks can shake your heads at how hopeless we were. Something for everyone. Isn't that every author's dream?
Contrary to appearances, the author was not an orphan. He grew up in the days before helicopter parenting and self-esteem building. It was a time when parents considered that their obligations began and ended with providing a roof, basic food, and ugly clothes. The rest was up to the kid and, clearly, it took this poor guy a while to figure things out.
His stories of being a boy in a not-too-classy neighborhood in a small Indiana town are some of the funniest things I've ever read. It was a time of unchallenged (usually tacky) religious displays on courthouse lawns. Were we any holier for it? Not that I remember. It was a time when pet-ownership was a casual affair. It was a time when kids (especially boys) were free-range chickens. Kids from that era have some great memories, IF they survived.
There was little by the way of "organized recreation" and most of that was pretty disorganized. Indiana was (and is) basketball-mad and yet even the klutzy author warmed the bench of a local team. There was no "sex ed" but teens managed to figure it out and the occasional shot-gun wedding provided much needed entertainment. There were no self-service gas stations and a customer purchasing a dollar's worth of gas received the kind of attention that's now reserved for billionaires buying yachts.
It was the 1950's - a era which looks better in the rear-view mirror than it did at the time. Still, this author has a great talent for capturing the eccentric characters who peopled his childhood and if he exaggerates a bit here and there I don't hold it against him. I loved his stories of childhood and I enjoyed his stories of his awkward teen years. It's a good read. Those of us who are his contemporaries will find plenty to relate to and you young folks can shake your heads at how hopeless we were. Something for everyone. Isn't that every author's dream?
Displaying 1 of 1 review