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Trailer Trash With A Girl's Name: Father Figures
We all blame our parents to some extent for the misfortunes of our childhood. Stacey Roberts can’t ever quite forgive his mother for giving him a girl’s name. And that was just the beginning. Then she moved the family into a used Winnebago motor home. For five years.
- GenresMemoir
253 pages, Paperback
First published June 20, 2017
34 people are currently reading
1137 people want to read
About the author
Stacey Roberts
4 books97 followersStacey Roberts was born in a smoky hospital in New Jersey in 1971. Nine years later, he and his family moved into a Winnebago and traveled across the country. After several near-death experiences, they settled first in California and then Florida.
He attended college at Florida State University and University of Miami, where he received his B.A. in English Literature instead of Finance, which was a great disappointment to his mother.
He went on to get a Master’s degree in Early Modern European History at the University of Cincinnati, to which his mother said, “SSSStace. History? What do you need that for? What is wrong with you?”
His mother was right. He didn’t need it for anything, except to make arcane references about the Roman Empire or Henry VIII that no one else understands.
He founded a computer consulting firm outside of Cincinnati, Ohio in 1994, and resides in Northern Kentucky with his two brilliant daughters and their less than brilliant yellow dog Sophie.
He attended college at Florida State University and University of Miami, where he received his B.A. in English Literature instead of Finance, which was a great disappointment to his mother.
He went on to get a Master’s degree in Early Modern European History at the University of Cincinnati, to which his mother said, “SSSStace. History? What do you need that for? What is wrong with you?”
His mother was right. He didn’t need it for anything, except to make arcane references about the Roman Empire or Henry VIII that no one else understands.
He founded a computer consulting firm outside of Cincinnati, Ohio in 1994, and resides in Northern Kentucky with his two brilliant daughters and their less than brilliant yellow dog Sophie.
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
May 12, 2018
This is the ever so readable sequel to "Trailer Trash With A Girl's Name" that I enjoyed a while back that I was lucky enough to win a copy of. I flew through it last night when I really needed some humor as my mom was in the hospital. This fit the bill perfectly as its filled with family humor about 2 sons and a mom who cooks awful food and makes salad crammed full of red onions, bleah. She named her son Stacey of all things and the book is filled with kooky stories about the family that kept my mind engaged very well for much of the evening with many giggles at some of the craziness. It's a cute book and nicely written, and having been in the mobile home and RV industry much of my life, I can relate to the 'trailer trash' theme :-) Read and enjoy.
October 17, 2017
I loved this sequel. The first book had me laughing so hard that I had Dr Pepper coming out of my nostrils. This one touched my funny bone and then my heart strings. By the end of I wanted to hug Mr. Roberts.
October 19, 2017
Have you read Trailer Trash with a Girl’s Name #1? No? Do it! Though you don’t need to read the first to love the gut-wrenching hilarity of the sequel, Father Figures, do it anyway. You. Will. Laugh. And what is life without laughter? Nothing. That’s what. There is a lifetime of laughter between the covers of these books.
This instalment picks up the tale of SSSSStace, his older brother Layne the Favorite, his mother, Carol, and the assortment of father figures she picks up along the way. With absolute gems like “Her lamb chops and mint jelly tasted like the sleep-drool of serial killers smothered in hot toothpaste,” I almost want to try her cooking. Almost… No, not really.
Among all the funny bone tickling, there was something I didn’t expect. A poignant bit of reality that brought a wide range of emotions spewing forth. Sequels sometimes suck. This one doesn’t. Damn it, Stacey, why’d you have to go and make me cry?
This instalment picks up the tale of SSSSStace, his older brother Layne the Favorite, his mother, Carol, and the assortment of father figures she picks up along the way. With absolute gems like “Her lamb chops and mint jelly tasted like the sleep-drool of serial killers smothered in hot toothpaste,” I almost want to try her cooking. Almost… No, not really.
Among all the funny bone tickling, there was something I didn’t expect. A poignant bit of reality that brought a wide range of emotions spewing forth. Sequels sometimes suck. This one doesn’t. Damn it, Stacey, why’d you have to go and make me cry?
October 29, 2017
All your favourites are back for a second round of ‘Trailer Trash with a Girl’s Name’ by Stacey Roberts. Of course, we have Carol The Jewish Mom, who puts onions IN EVERYTHING. This time she’s warning her second husband that he ‘has the scurvy!’ A little salad should take good care of his dental hygiene toxicity. We have Ted the Drug Dealer, beating the hell out of a drunk for loose change in cab fare and teaching his step-sons to shoot—just because they were in Texas, and the RV was broken down (again). There’s Marvin and his drive to become ‘King of the Jews’. And, of course, we have Layne the favourite getting a new car every six weeks…and SSSSSStace, the ever-present smartass at the centre of the whole mess.
But we have deeper moments in this set of tales, too. Father Figures is surprisingly poignant. Along with the laughs, the book takes a look at what it is to be a father, a son, a brother, a husband—and it does so with humour, yes, but also with a relatable candour. There is a resonance here in these tales, many of which go beyond the humour we use to cope with the upsets of our day-to-day lives, struggling with and against our family. Roberts takes us on a ride of laughs, absolutely, but he also has us feel things along the way. My advice? Pour yourself a tall glass of citrus and climb into the Friendly Checker cab with ‘Father Figures’ — it’s just as off-kilter funny as the first instalment, but adds a new touch of familiarity and warmth. If you read this book and don’t find it both funny AND touching, I might be tempted to ask, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
But we have deeper moments in this set of tales, too. Father Figures is surprisingly poignant. Along with the laughs, the book takes a look at what it is to be a father, a son, a brother, a husband—and it does so with humour, yes, but also with a relatable candour. There is a resonance here in these tales, many of which go beyond the humour we use to cope with the upsets of our day-to-day lives, struggling with and against our family. Roberts takes us on a ride of laughs, absolutely, but he also has us feel things along the way. My advice? Pour yourself a tall glass of citrus and climb into the Friendly Checker cab with ‘Father Figures’ — it’s just as off-kilter funny as the first instalment, but adds a new touch of familiarity and warmth. If you read this book and don’t find it both funny AND touching, I might be tempted to ask, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
October 19, 2017
Hilarious and heartfelt. In this second installment of Trailer Trash With a Girl's Name, Stacey takes us through all the men in his life who have been father figures in his life while using his usual humor. If you haven't read the first one, go get it. This book has some touching moments and funny as hell moments. Don't miss out.
November 19, 2017
*********** ARC FROM GIVEAWAY ***********
Not sure how he accomplished having a book both completely mundane (ya I used that word, thanks Cassandra Clare!) and still totally funny and exciting...but he managed it.
Look forward to checking out his other book!
Not sure how he accomplished having a book both completely mundane (ya I used that word, thanks Cassandra Clare!) and still totally funny and exciting...but he managed it.
Look forward to checking out his other book!
February 21, 2018
Oh so funny, with a dash of hard times and grown up reality peppered in. I laughed out loud more times than I can count. I especially enjoyed the descriptions of his mother’s cooking — so good!
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December 13, 2018 Getting old is a total trip.
I'm sure there's a time when we're kids that we wish for all of this, at least the part where we can go wherever we want - including the grocery store to get nothing but frozen pizza and ice cream - and stay up all night to watch movies full of sex, violence, and bad language. Oh yeah, that's adulthood right there, the good stuff. Nothing but f-bombs and freedom, baby. All we've gotta do is make it through the dreadful minefield of childhood without our parents, or something even worse, killing us.
I'm also pretty sure that most of us don't really enjoy our childhood that much while we are still in it. The only thing harder than being an adult is probably being a teenager. If we're lucky, we can look back on it from the oasis of adulthood, and maybe . . . just maybe . . . laugh about the horrific high jinks that led us here. That's what Stacey Roberts' excellent book, TRAILER TRASH WITH A GIRL'S NAME: FATHER FIGURES, did for me. I looked back - not necessarily on my own childhood, but on an even more unusual one, full of adventure and uncertainty - and I laughed my ass off.
This is a sequel to Roberts' first book, TRAILER TRASH WITH A GIRL'S NAME, in which his family sets out on a five-year trip in an unpredictable Winnebago. I've not read the first book yet - and it's not necessary in order to enjoy any of this story - but, I guarantee, you'll want to check it out too after you've finished this journey. It's been quite a while since I guffawed this much while reading a book, and I read a lotta books. Honestly, I'd have to put this up there with something like Tim Sandlin's SKIPPED PARTS, Augusten Burroughs' RUNNING WITH SCISSORS, or some of David Sedaris' work, as among my favorite fucked-up family literature. Yeah, it made me laugh that hard.
First of all, you've got Stacey - with the name he can never fully forgive his mother for giving him - who's the perfect narrator for a story like this. His delivery is sardonic and dry, somehow managing to be both matter-of-fact and over-the-top at the same time, which is the only way to tell some of these events. For instance, check out this part of the opening scene, where Stacey's mother is forcing him to sit at the table until he's finished another one of her terrible breakfasts:
It was summer vacation, so we had all day to sit there, a bowl of moldering white lumps between us. I was fourteen; too young to emancipate myself and flee her jurisdiction. Ted the Drug Dealer, my mother's third husband, saved me when he slammed his captured machete down on the table.
Ted, who was Ted the Cab Driver before he upgraded to Drug Dealer, has just taken the machete off a fare who tried to rob him.
I mean, you can't make this stuff up. Well, okay, you could, but no one would ever believe it. So the narrative voice Roberts assumes is absolutely perfect for the adventures that follow, which include things like his stepfather bringing home four hundred pounds of Kentucky marijuana and stashing it in the family's kitchen. Or the part when Stacey and his brother, Layne the Favorite, are stealing grapefruit from a farmer's trees and Ted the Drug Dealer decides that the process would go more quickly if he shot the fruit with his pistol. Oh yeah, that happens, and it will have you rolling on the floor.
Then you've got Stacey's mom, who, in this case, really does have it going on. By "it" I mean the almost supernatural inability to correctly remember anyone's name:
Mom: "I can't believe you're turning down food, Tony, as zaftig as you are. How about a salad?"
Tiny: "Oh, no, Carol. I don't like red onions. And it's Tiny."
Mom: "This salad is perfectly big enough for one person. And red onions are good for your circulation."
Tiny: "I mean my name is Tiny. I tell you every time I come here."
Mom: "Terry. That's what I said."
Not to mention, you'll be anxiously anticipating the next meal his mother cooks - far more than Stacey is - for his descriptions of them are priceless. "It tasted like the draft of wind when a mausoleum door slams shut." ". . . like involuntary exile from one's homeland." ". . . like the gloom one feels after a week of unrelenting rain." ". . . which tasted like the inside of an executioner's mask after a midnight with no reprieve from the governor." "It tasted like watching your house being swept away by rising waters."
But there's more than just laughter here, especially when the story flashes forward to Stacey's own experiences as a parent. When you grow up with a certain amount of insanity in your family, it seems just as crazy to try and have one of your own. Believe me, I know. But maybe that's the only thing that can eventually help to make sense of all the crap you've seen, whether it's hilarious crap or not. While it's the funny parts that will drag you into Roberts' book, it's going to be the latter third that wins your heart.
For instance, dig this line:
. . . and in your fiery hearts and mischievous eyes you feel twenty years old, even though fifty lives right down the street and, before you know it, will be over for dinner.
I mean, wow. That's not just comedy, folks, that's pretty deep. At least for those of us who have been sons and fathers and live right down that same damn street. Since, you see, Roberts doesn't just give us a bunch of laughter at his own expense. He goes and jerks a few tears out of us too, that bastard.
I wasn't sure of the ending at first, because it veered off in what I thought was a different direction from the rest of the story. But it took me so long to get around to this review (being far too busy eating all that ice cream and frozen pizza while watching my rated-R movies), that I ended up reading the entire book all over again. But, upon that second reading, it felt absolutely perfect to me. There was still some laughter, but it was the heavy-hued, knowing laughter of an adult, looking back on everything that led him here. There was a gravity to everything now that kind of, just a little bit, made it feel more like literature than just a memoir.
But don't worry, it'll still make you laugh your ass off. As a matter of fact, it might even make you hope the story continues . . . because there are always more childhood tales to tell, and being an adult can be pretty damn funny too. In any case, whatever he decides to write next, you might wanna keep an eye on Stacey Roberts. Getting old is a total trip, and this guy is definitely going places.
- j. meredith
I'm sure there's a time when we're kids that we wish for all of this, at least the part where we can go wherever we want - including the grocery store to get nothing but frozen pizza and ice cream - and stay up all night to watch movies full of sex, violence, and bad language. Oh yeah, that's adulthood right there, the good stuff. Nothing but f-bombs and freedom, baby. All we've gotta do is make it through the dreadful minefield of childhood without our parents, or something even worse, killing us.
I'm also pretty sure that most of us don't really enjoy our childhood that much while we are still in it. The only thing harder than being an adult is probably being a teenager. If we're lucky, we can look back on it from the oasis of adulthood, and maybe . . . just maybe . . . laugh about the horrific high jinks that led us here. That's what Stacey Roberts' excellent book, TRAILER TRASH WITH A GIRL'S NAME: FATHER FIGURES, did for me. I looked back - not necessarily on my own childhood, but on an even more unusual one, full of adventure and uncertainty - and I laughed my ass off.
This is a sequel to Roberts' first book, TRAILER TRASH WITH A GIRL'S NAME, in which his family sets out on a five-year trip in an unpredictable Winnebago. I've not read the first book yet - and it's not necessary in order to enjoy any of this story - but, I guarantee, you'll want to check it out too after you've finished this journey. It's been quite a while since I guffawed this much while reading a book, and I read a lotta books. Honestly, I'd have to put this up there with something like Tim Sandlin's SKIPPED PARTS, Augusten Burroughs' RUNNING WITH SCISSORS, or some of David Sedaris' work, as among my favorite fucked-up family literature. Yeah, it made me laugh that hard.
First of all, you've got Stacey - with the name he can never fully forgive his mother for giving him - who's the perfect narrator for a story like this. His delivery is sardonic and dry, somehow managing to be both matter-of-fact and over-the-top at the same time, which is the only way to tell some of these events. For instance, check out this part of the opening scene, where Stacey's mother is forcing him to sit at the table until he's finished another one of her terrible breakfasts:
It was summer vacation, so we had all day to sit there, a bowl of moldering white lumps between us. I was fourteen; too young to emancipate myself and flee her jurisdiction. Ted the Drug Dealer, my mother's third husband, saved me when he slammed his captured machete down on the table.
Ted, who was Ted the Cab Driver before he upgraded to Drug Dealer, has just taken the machete off a fare who tried to rob him.
I mean, you can't make this stuff up. Well, okay, you could, but no one would ever believe it. So the narrative voice Roberts assumes is absolutely perfect for the adventures that follow, which include things like his stepfather bringing home four hundred pounds of Kentucky marijuana and stashing it in the family's kitchen. Or the part when Stacey and his brother, Layne the Favorite, are stealing grapefruit from a farmer's trees and Ted the Drug Dealer decides that the process would go more quickly if he shot the fruit with his pistol. Oh yeah, that happens, and it will have you rolling on the floor.
Then you've got Stacey's mom, who, in this case, really does have it going on. By "it" I mean the almost supernatural inability to correctly remember anyone's name:
Mom: "I can't believe you're turning down food, Tony, as zaftig as you are. How about a salad?"
Tiny: "Oh, no, Carol. I don't like red onions. And it's Tiny."
Mom: "This salad is perfectly big enough for one person. And red onions are good for your circulation."
Tiny: "I mean my name is Tiny. I tell you every time I come here."
Mom: "Terry. That's what I said."
Not to mention, you'll be anxiously anticipating the next meal his mother cooks - far more than Stacey is - for his descriptions of them are priceless. "It tasted like the draft of wind when a mausoleum door slams shut." ". . . like involuntary exile from one's homeland." ". . . like the gloom one feels after a week of unrelenting rain." ". . . which tasted like the inside of an executioner's mask after a midnight with no reprieve from the governor." "It tasted like watching your house being swept away by rising waters."
But there's more than just laughter here, especially when the story flashes forward to Stacey's own experiences as a parent. When you grow up with a certain amount of insanity in your family, it seems just as crazy to try and have one of your own. Believe me, I know. But maybe that's the only thing that can eventually help to make sense of all the crap you've seen, whether it's hilarious crap or not. While it's the funny parts that will drag you into Roberts' book, it's going to be the latter third that wins your heart.
For instance, dig this line:
. . . and in your fiery hearts and mischievous eyes you feel twenty years old, even though fifty lives right down the street and, before you know it, will be over for dinner.
I mean, wow. That's not just comedy, folks, that's pretty deep. At least for those of us who have been sons and fathers and live right down that same damn street. Since, you see, Roberts doesn't just give us a bunch of laughter at his own expense. He goes and jerks a few tears out of us too, that bastard.
I wasn't sure of the ending at first, because it veered off in what I thought was a different direction from the rest of the story. But it took me so long to get around to this review (being far too busy eating all that ice cream and frozen pizza while watching my rated-R movies), that I ended up reading the entire book all over again. But, upon that second reading, it felt absolutely perfect to me. There was still some laughter, but it was the heavy-hued, knowing laughter of an adult, looking back on everything that led him here. There was a gravity to everything now that kind of, just a little bit, made it feel more like literature than just a memoir.
But don't worry, it'll still make you laugh your ass off. As a matter of fact, it might even make you hope the story continues . . . because there are always more childhood tales to tell, and being an adult can be pretty damn funny too. In any case, whatever he decides to write next, you might wanna keep an eye on Stacey Roberts. Getting old is a total trip, and this guy is definitely going places.
- j. meredith
November 10, 2017
Stacey Roberts has a gift for presenting stories that make the reader simultaneously cringe, laugh, and wonder whether there is a way to retroactively report abuse to child services for events that took place thirty years ago. In this book he brings all that to the table again. But this time, he offers up another gift. As it turns out, the author is also quite capable of bringing the reader to tears, making us reach for the phone to call old friends and father figures.
The first half of this book is about Stacey, the boy as we remember him from the first book a smart-mouthed, observant kid who is learning to manage the hand life dealt to him (and what a life it is). In the second half, we meet Stacey the teenager and man. This is actually my favorite part of this particular book as we get to meet the group of father figures in the form of friends, relatives, and in-laws who help him negotiate the stormy waters of adolescence, young adulthood, fatherhood, and divorce.
This might be one of the few times in which the sequel is better than the first book and the first one was just excellent. You can read this book as a standalone if you want to, but you'll enjoy it more if you read the first one too.
The first half of this book is about Stacey, the boy as we remember him from the first book a smart-mouthed, observant kid who is learning to manage the hand life dealt to him (and what a life it is). In the second half, we meet Stacey the teenager and man. This is actually my favorite part of this particular book as we get to meet the group of father figures in the form of friends, relatives, and in-laws who help him negotiate the stormy waters of adolescence, young adulthood, fatherhood, and divorce.
This might be one of the few times in which the sequel is better than the first book and the first one was just excellent. You can read this book as a standalone if you want to, but you'll enjoy it more if you read the first one too.
December 5, 2018
I’m speechless
I loved this book and I didn’t even get to read the first one! I usually don’t start on secondary volumes but this one really interested me from the get go. I literally flew through this and found so many moments that I had to stifle actual laughter especially when he comments about his mother’s cooking. True stories are that much more of a joy because we find traces of ourselves and our own humanity in the pages. This entire book touched my heart. I was even brought to tears as well which doesn’t happen often. I have to pick up the first book now because I loved this one so much. Read this! You will laugh I highly recommend it.
I loved this book and I didn’t even get to read the first one! I usually don’t start on secondary volumes but this one really interested me from the get go. I literally flew through this and found so many moments that I had to stifle actual laughter especially when he comments about his mother’s cooking. True stories are that much more of a joy because we find traces of ourselves and our own humanity in the pages. This entire book touched my heart. I was even brought to tears as well which doesn’t happen often. I have to pick up the first book now because I loved this one so much. Read this! You will laugh I highly recommend it.
October 13, 2017
Stacey Roberts is king of the written callback. A callback is a punchline that keeps coming back throughout a comedians routine. Stacey has a few of them in Trailer Trash With A Girl's Name: Father Figures. I didn't think I could love this book more than the original Trailer Trash With A Girl's Name. I was wrong. I laughed my way through the book and cried at the end. I hope Stacey writes another book soon.
August 30, 2018
How do you rate someone's life in a book. It was so hard for me to decide to leave a review because not only is Stacey Roberts funny as all get out, but it was also on the sad side and cried for him a bit. Stacey is like me you turn sad things into funny things because even though it's hard at the time you look back and think really people I can't make that sh t up... Recommend for a laugh and what not to do sometimes with your kids...Love you Stacey you are so funny...Gina Clabo
October 17, 2017
Reading this book is like being invited to dinner and finding out that the cook is an Iron Chef! A definite must read. Mr. Roberts has produced another side-splitting hilarious adventure - this time from childhood to adulthood. Insofar as the food reference, the descriptions of his mother's cooking had me in tears as I can no longer look at red onions the same way as before.
November 3, 2017
I received this book for free as part of a first reads promotion
November 21, 2017
Trailer Trash with a Girl's Name is snort milk out of your nose funny! I kid you not! If you need a story that will lighten your mood as well as your day, give this book a read!
December 14, 2019
Didn't finish. Too much word for word repetition from the first book I felt like I was reading it all over again.
June 14, 2020
Funny! I loved the way he always referred to his brother as Layne the Favorite and to his stepfather as Ted the Drug Dealer.
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews