This book is a look at a noble attempt to bring the voice of organized labor to the public by way of broadcasting. In intricate detail, Godfried provides a history of the Chicago Federation of Labor (CFL) attempt to stake labor's claim for a place amid the commercial broadcasters. The story is a testament to Edward Nockles, the CFL secretary who had the vision and persistence to see his dream take form. Readers will gain insight into organized labor history, particularly the role of the American Federation of Labor in it's tepid support for WCFL and the apathetic response of Chicago unions as a whole to the radio station. Trying to get labor support while battling the broadcasting giants for a clear channel on the AM radio dial, Nockles emerges as a real hero for his refusal to give up. There were remarkable successes along the way but the war was a losing one almost from the start as WCFL was forced by economics to become little different from other radio stations. The book revels in the period of the 1920's, 30's and 40's then races to a close with the sale of WCFL by the CFL in 1978. This is appropriate because it was in those earlier years that the station came closest to being a voice for labor. Though longer than it needs to be, the book is a historical delight. Anyone who wonders how radio came to be as it is today will find this book a treasure. Anyone who believes that one individual cannot make a difference will find in the story of Edward Nockles a reason to think again. He was the heart and soul of "The Voice of Labor"

Rick Maybury does a very good job of introducing the reader to the concepts of free-market economics. The reason I only gave this book 4 stars is that it can be bit simplistic, but for any student at the junior high or senior high school level this is a good start in your education. After reading Whatever Happened To Penny Candy? I would recommend Henry Hazlitt`s Economics In One Lesson.

Colletti, as an insider and -- at the time -- Cubs' employee, provided this little book on the Cubs at the beginning of the Tribune era for the enjoyment of Cubs fans. The purchase of the Cubs from the Wrigleys brought with it many things that define the modern Cubs (or at least the post-'69, pre-MacPhail Cubs)-- Ryne Sandberg, Rick Sutcliffe, Harry Caray -- all brought to Chicago through the efforts of Dallas Green. Colletti's book, however, is fawning in its praise for Green and perhaps overplays what Green meant to the franchise. Yes, the Cubs which Green inherited were horrible -- Dave Kingman's one good season seems all the more remarkable when compared to what others were doing and the Wrigleys had alienated a lot of fans with the team's rough treatment of Bill Madlock (a sin which would be grievously committed a second time with Greg Maddux by Larry Himes less than two decades later) -- but the Cubs walked away from the Dallas Green era with only 1984 to show for it. Insofar as it was the only glory worth reliving, beyond Lee Elia's rant, Colletti provides great coverage to it in "You've Gotta Have Heart." Colletti takes readers through each game of the 1984 season in summary fashion and provides enough detail to invoke the giddy memories of that brief monsoon breaking the devastation of a forty year drought... Ryne Sandberg's incredible game against Bruce Sutter and the Cardinals; Steve Trout and his blister "remedy" of pickle juice, crab meat and tobacco juice; "Sarge" and the fans in the left-field bleachers... all of it is laid out lovingly by Colletti up until the bitter end. Garvey, Durham, pain. Still, a fun read for Cubs fans of more than two decades.

The Immortal Class is itself somewhat like a challenging bike ride through the city. The self-conscious prose of the early chapters is something of an uphill battle in winter slush, but once the author settles into his pace, readers will find themselves dashing from page to page with the speed of a big-city bike messenger darting in and out of rush-hour traffic. And just as the bike messenger sometimes find himself upended by the unexpected opening of a car door in his path, sudden expository lumps (especially those when Culley's over-simplified musings on the evils of "car culture" are presented) occasionally send the unsuspecting reader tail over teakettle, upsetting the flow of the narrative.

Still, this is an impressive debut; with sharp dialogue, just enough of the jargon bike messengers use amongst themselves, and the author's knowledge of and love/hate relationship with Chicago, Travis Hugh Culley manages to lift this book far above the level of most memoirs, particularly those written by members of his generation. This is not a perfect book, by any means -- but few life stories succeed in giving the reader such a strong sense of BEING THERE. Culley didn't go to Chicago to become a bike messenger OR a writer. Yet his accidental sojourn into the realm of the bike messenger refined and redefined his sense of self, and the transformational nature of his journey comes through in his book; we are fortunate that the author has taken us along for the ride.

"The Immortal Class" is obviously a first book by an obviously gifted writer. To any boomer, even a cycling boomer, who lives in the 'burbs, Mr. Culley's book represents, in one volume, a double eye-opener to both the life of a bike courier and the importance of thoughtful city planning. As such, this book is actually two books artfully interweaved into one. The reader is both fascinated by the details and challanges of the world in which the urban bike messenger functions, as well as educated by Mr. Culley's interspersed treatise on urban planning as it relates to eco-friendly transportation. What is so significant about this book is that it moves suburban, automobile-dependant (and even Republican) individuals, such as myself, to rethink the applicability of human powered transportation as a viable alternative. I originally purchased this book because I have always been an avid (and sometimes competitive) cyclist. I finished this book re-evaluating my view of transportation. Even though the subject matter jumps around a bit, it is both an entertaining and thought provoking read. I highly recommend it! On Monday, I'll be riding my bike to work.

The tyranny of automobiles over our cities didn't have to be inevitable, and Travis Hugh Culley is out to make his city safe for bicycles. His lively book, _The Immortal Class: Bike Messengers and the Cult of Human Power_ is a combination memoir of his days as a bike messenger and a polemic against the tyranny of the automobile. Culley has an original voice, a poetic way of telling about his road adventures and the other bicyclists he encounters. He has more than his share of guts, and his book is a convincing examination of how to look at a problem from a different view, and how to make a difference.

A thwarted theater producer, he signed on to be a bike messenger in Chicago, a city he obviously loves and wants to care for. The descriptions of the career of bike messenger are the most vivid and enjoyable parts of the book. It is peppered throughout with radio jargon: "10-4, boss. I'm going to drop the bucket of Bucklin, grab a bouquet of Rosies, roll off the Fairbanks, and hit you on the outside of the Dentist." (Only some of the talk is translated; "the Dentist" is, for instance, the headquarters of the American Dental Association.) It is full of collisions which are rather beautifully and balletically described: "When my front wheel slipped out from beneath me, I fell forward, smacked the asphalt with my back, and began sliding in a straight line between the two cars. I could feel the white lines in the road skipping beneath my messenger bag, _thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump_..." After an accident, "Messengering bloody was kind of cool. Secretaries would offer me napkins and things to tell me that I needed to freshen the bandages... At first I couldn't distinguish sweat from blood, so I kept wiping everything with a blood-drenched hanky." Afterward he gets stitches at home from a medical resident, his girlfriend. Eating and drinking are altered for the messenger's exhausting routine; Howard Johnson's eggs, pancakes, and grits for breakfast, with snacks through the day of granola mixed with M&M's and dried fruit. "If I didn't eat at least three ounces by noon, I would be brain-dead by 1:30, slurring my words and overshooting my streets, stoned from depletion." I don't want to live this life, but it is a thrill to read about it.

Culley saves his harshest words for city and state governments that refuse to recognize bicyclists as road-users with road-privileges, for the police who break up his demonstrations, and for those of us who simply accept the automobile as the way it has to be. He is no longer a messenger; his injured knee eventually gave out, and he now commutes to his gallery job, by bicycle, to be sure. He is still active in advocacy for his dream transportation, and while his visions of a Chicago "covered with bike-only streets, quiet trains, and a patient, car-free delivery-based roadway" are overoptimistic, his idealism in placing bike messengers in the center of such a Chicago and thereby improving the streets, neighborhoods, atmosphere, and economies of the city he loves, is really rather sweet. He thinks there are plenty of good people out there who just don't know the alternative to SUV's and creeping commutes. They will if they read his entertaining book.

Didn't read the first book and spent the first fifty pages or so rolling my eyes at Jack Reacher's invulnerability and/or machismo -- but once you get past that, you actually find yourself rooting for the guy and cheering when he finishes off the villains one by one -- who couldn't root for a hero who uses a lit cigarette and a wooden chair to wipe out a room full of bad guys? Some of the writing is a little dry and the character of Holly seems thin, but overall it's still better than most others in this genre. The descriptions of the technology and military gear can be a bit boring, but overall pretty informative -- Childs obviously did his homework. If you like techno-thrillers with he-men heroes rescuing damsels in distress (okay...a brainy, well-trained damsel but a damsel nonetheless), then you'll enjoy the book.

I REALLY liked this story, but I could have waited. After reading the utterly fabulous "Killing Floor", however, I couldn't buy this book fast enough. I wish I had read a review like this before I did so. Like the other reviewers, however, I hope Lee Child keeps writing books and forgets the TV angle. He is a very good writer, and Jack Reacher makes Connelly's Harry Bosch (who I just love) look like a pansy. One thing, however, is that Mr. Child should get a Thesaurus and look up some alternate words for "scrabbled". I haven't heard this verb used as many times in my entire life as in his two books.

Die Trying is the sensational sequel to Killing Floor by Lee Child. If you haven't read Killing Floor I would recommend doing so before you read this book as it provides a basis for Reacher's character realism. As before the main character is Jack Reacher, ex military policeman and all round superhero. Reacher is intelligent, deductive and physically prodigous, so if you like heroes of the elite variety then this is the character for you. If you prefer cardiganed librarians and lack the ability to suspend disbelief (an essential criteria for FICTION readers) avoid this book as the storyline is astounding with a capital ASTOUND. Lee Child has produced a book that captivates and ensnares its readers with suspense, intrigue and a plot with more twists than a bowl of particularly tangled spaghetti. A man mountain of a psychopath, a beautiful FBI agent with more secrets than the FBI itself, moles galore and the president of the United States, all come together in the valleys of Montana, in a literary feast. If that isn't enough there's even a spot of romance (but not too much). All in all a book for those of us who believe in a world where heroes do exist.

I have read all of Jane Hamilton's books from the very beginning (even before Oprah told us to), but this one was a struggle for me. The premise of the story is timely. Henry Shaw discovers his mother is having an online relationship with a man she met in person at a family wedding. As a teen-ager he is going through his own personal struggles with the world as he watches his mother change before his eyes. He reads her e-mails to and from her lover by secretly accessing her internet account. He and his younger sister, a lesbian in the making who lives her life as a Civil War soldier while fighting the inevitable (growing breasts and feminine beauty) actually travel with Beth Shaw to meet the lover. I found the book interesting enough to continue to read but only after coming to terms with Henry's constant changes in his reference to his mother. He calls her many names to mirror the many roles she plays--wife, daughter, mother, musician, adulterer.

It is a story about feelings, confusion, deception, and even love. Although I am a big fan of Jane Hamilton and will continue to look forward to her books, I liked her first three a lot better than this one.

I was pleasantly surprised with Jane Hamilton's latest novel, Disobedience. Beth and Kevin Shaw's teenage son, Henry, is faced with knowing things about his mother that he can't share with anyone. While sneakily reading his mother's e-mail, he discovers that she is having an affair. For an entire year, Henry works through his anger, his disappointment and in some cases, his jealousy, as his mother works through her guilt and desire for a different life. The supporting characters in this novel are tremendously enjoyable, from Henry's tomboy, Civil War re-enactor sister, Elvira, to his first girlfriend, Lily, and keep the plot moving along at a fairly quick pace. For most of the book, I kept wondering when Henry would finally confront his mother and when he'd "get over it." Henry asked himself the same question in the novel, which I thought was entertaining. I loved Beth's book club and Henry's analysis of female book groups and would even recommend this to book groups for a potentially intense debate over infidelity.

Has Jane Hamilton missed the mark with "Disobedience"? This seems the debate raging, at quick glance, with fellow Amazon reviewers. Having read all of Hamilton's previous works, initially my concern was that she had. This is more a continuation of the reflective feel of "A Short History of a Prince" and less of the more plot-driven "The Book of Ruth" and "A Map of the World." This is where perhaps the "boring" criticism comes from, as Henry is hopelessly obsessed with his mother Beth's affair with a fellow musician. As with "Prince," Hamilton tells the story with a male narrator. Whether Henry comes out sounding more like a middle-aged woman than a young man is certainly debatable, but with Hamilton's writing skill I found it hard to complain.

Overall, "Disobedience" is a rich and thought-provoking work. First, there is the title. The easy leap to make is that the title refers to Beth's extramarital affair. But each character, in their own way, is "disobedient." Despite his mother's transgression, Henry's invasion of her e-mails would certainly not meet the "honor thy mother and father" criteria. Likewise, the sub-plot of Henry's sister's (Elvira) obsession with Civil War re-enactment only sets the stage for the many internal wars going on in the novel: a "typical" American family struggling to stay together, the battle of the sexes, and Henry's own struggle in becoming an adult. Certainly enough fodder for a book club, which Hamilton nicely skewers even after her own post-Oprah successes.

While Hamilton appears to be losing some of her rabid fan-base with her last two novels, in my humble opinion, "Disobedience" is only further evidence that Hamilton has only continued to make her mark as one of the top contemporary American authors.

THE HOUSE ON MANGO STREET by Sandra Cisneors is a short book composed of 44 short, short vignettes. Told from the point of view of Esperanza Cordero, a young Mexican girl living in Chicago, the vignettes criticize poverty, child abuse, social and racial discrimination, sexism and so much more.

Beginning with the line- "We didn't always live on Mango Street," THE HOUSE ON MANGO STREET illustrates the story of Esperanza's search for freedom, for "only a house quiet as snow, a place for myself to go, clean as paper before the poem." Reading Sandra Cisneros' lines, you'll immediately fall in love with them. I must admit the vignettes have little relavance to one another, and the book doesn't seem to have a distinctive plot besides Esperanza's longing for a true house (different from the house they own on Mango Street), which doesn't seem to develop much throughout the book. But the language that literally flows through the book is so beautiful, so lyrical, so poetic. "as powerful as morning glories" "eyes like Egypt" "I am a red balloon"...

A beautiful excerpt from my favorite vignette, "Sally" - (I don't think I'm giving anything away, as the book lacks plot development anyway): Sally, do you sometimes wish you didn't have to go home? Do you wish your feet would one day keep walking and take you far away from Mango Street, far away and maybe your feet would stop in front of a house, a nice one with flowers and big windows and steps for you to climb up two by two upstairs to where a room is waiting for you. And if you opened the little window latch and gave it a shove, the windows would swing open, all the sky would come in. There'd be no nosy neighbors watching, no motorcycles and cars, no sheets and towels and laundry. Only trees and more trees and plenty of blue sky. And you could laugh, Sally. You coudl go to sleep and wake up and never have to think who likes and doesn't like you. You could close your eyes and you wouldn't have to worry what people said because you never belonged here anyway and nobody could make you sad and nobody would think you're strange because you like to dream and dream. And no one could yell at you if they saw you out in the dark leaning against a car, leaning against somebody without someone thinking you are bad, without somebody saying it is wrong, without the whole world waiting for you to make a mistake when all you wanted, all you wanted, Sally, was to love and to love and to love and to love, and no one could call that crazy.

The House on Mango Street, written by Sandra Cisneros is the look at the coming of age through a child's eyes. The book is written in the view of Esperanza, a young Hispanic girl growing up in in American world. Though her views of life are a bit naive in the beginning, she goes through many experiences that challenge what she thinks is right. From being hit on by a bum-man in the street, to dealing with a friends abused by her father.
The book is written in short story format. There are a total of 44 short stories in the book, but they all tie together in the end. It's like a long movie shown in short episodes. While they might not all connect together right away, all the stories help the reader to understand the life that Esperanza lives, and why she reacts to things the way she does.
Another thing that plays into the story is the role of Hispanic women in the culture when the book was written. At the time, their main role in life was to stay at home and take care of the husband, kids, etc. This comes up many times in the story, as their husbands luck up characters, or children are beaten for talking to boys.
In all, the story is a great look at the life of a Hispanic girl through the eyes of a child.

... but this time into the dirty town on Mango Street. Esperanza knows she's destined for more than she has and refuses to end up like the many residents of her new home. The House on Mango Street tells Esperanza's story as she meets new people and becomes involved with new situations she's never experienced before. While she decorates the story with intelligent metaphors and comparisons of everyday objects (red balloon compared to freedom), the book's grammar is sloppy and improper (often lacking such things as quotation marks). Though it further helps connect with the 'street kid' personality most of the characters have, it can be confusing for some readers. The short vignettes sometimes seem like 'fillers' to keep the important plot developments spread further apart but each story has its own moral, backed up by bits of humor, mystery, and sadness. The changes Esperanza go through as she ages, physically and emotionally, are noticeable and interesting. Overall, the main point of this book can become vague at times, but it's a nice read and a perfect addition to any collection.

Let me preface my remarks by saying I have read every V.I. Warshawski novel, and overall I have greatly enjoyed the series, the character's development throughout the different books, and Paretsky's clean writing style. Total Recall was not one of Paretsky's best, as far as I'm concerned. The plotting was hectic, muddled, and circular, rather proceeding tautly in a straight line like many of her other books do. Two of the characters do not ring true to me at all - Paretsky does not give the reader enough information to explain truly why and how the Paul character and the wealthy European characters do what they do. This is too bad, as Paretsky usually does an excellent and thorough job of characterization. As a fan, I'm happy I read this book so I'll know how things stand with V.I. on her next outing, but as a reader, I was left with frustration and a bad taste in my mouth. Also, as a therapist, I was not happy with the portrayal of the therapist character. Being in the mental health business is hard enough, and we need more positive, realistic literary versions of our profession to be put before the public.

I read some of the Amazon reviews before reading this book and I wasn't expecting much. Sara Paretsky's characters and plots are a little hard to decipher at times. However, I was very pleasantly surprised by TOTAL RECALL. The plotting was interesting and integrated and held my attention well. The characters were a mix of old familiar people like Max and Lotty and new ones such as Paul Radbuka. Paretsky handled the characters well even through she did a lot of skipping around between plots and subplots.

V.I. Warshawski is a "real pip" of a main character who always has a dozen things going on. In this novel she is verbally assaulted and professionally abused by friend and foe alike. Even Max's young granddaughter, Calia, gets down on "Aunt Victory". Nothing she does pleases anyone, but she keeps plugging along, tying threads together until things make sense.

Paretsky uses Chicago as her setting and really manages to paint a very believable picture of the town. TOTAL RECALL is a solid combination of place, people and plot that entertains the readers and can be recommended with confidence.

I enjoyed this book from start to finish, couldn't put it down, didn't want it to end. Why can't I give it 10 stars?

V.I. Warshawski has become a mature woman with a realistic lovelife and real friends. It was a pleasure to spend time with her (although I'm worried she's going to starve to death; she never seems to eat anything). The complex insurance and "recovered memory" scam she is "detecting" was interesting and I never doubted any of it. Plenty of blood, gore, action and surprises. As usual I enjoyed the Chicago scenery, especially the occasional notes on the Cubs.

The story of Lotty, finally revealed after all this time, makes perfect sense. I always wondered what her "problem" was, as no doubt did Paretsky. I think Paretsky handled it well, revealing it as if Lotty is telling her the story, which in the end it turns out, she is.

Why do so many people think less of a book because it's a "mystery?" This is as good a novel as many pieces of "literature" I've read, and way better than some of those lyrical and tedious first novels reviewers go nuts over.

I Left My Back Door Open is an easy to read book. One can easily relate to some of the issues the characters go through i.e. Sharon revealing to her daughter, Tyeesha, and to Dee Dee that she is lesbian, Tyeesha's rebellious behavior, Sarita and Phil's marriage breakdown, Freddy's attitude toward blacks, Skylar's single parent issues, as well as Dee Dee's issues, i.e. her weight, incest, and trying to find Mr. Right. Oh! One can easily relate! In reading, I got a feel for all the characters that were a part of this story. I have read Ms. Sinclair's other books, and feel that she is growing in her writing. In my opinion, I Left My Back Door Open probably has an edge on the other two books. April, keep them coming!

But out of all the books Ms. Sinclair has penned this one is for me.

I read Coffee Will Make You Black with high hopes and received little in return. I went on to read Aint Gonna Be the Same Fool Twice and found myself even more disappointed than when I read her first book.

I picked up I Left My Back Door Open out of curiosity, not expecting much. But I finished the novel in a record 24 hours, reluctant to put it down even when it was time for bed. Ms. Sinclair has illustrated how much better and diversed she has become. While other readers missed "Stevie", I would take one Dee-Dee over a thousand "Stevies' any day of the week.

The story was real, engaging and page turning. I cared about everybody in the book, including Freddy the Security Gaurd. Ms. Sinclair made Sarita a true flesh and blood mother and wife who gave honest answers and responses, instead of going for the stereotpyical or the expected. Her characters came with lessons and truths that I could take away with me after the story was done. She explores bulimia, teen age pregnancy, incest, divorce, diminished neighbors and raising children without a heavy hand or a need to preach. She's pulled that off very well.

Ms. Sinclair had created an excellent story and I pray that she continues with such fine work.

I expected Ms. Sinclair's third book to take up from "Aint Gonna Be the Same Fool Twice' left off. However, I was wonderfully surprised with her new character, Dee Dee. At 28, I was able to relate to Dee Dee, Sharon, Tyeesha and Sarita (all rolled up into one). Dee Dee's fears are/were my fears with regard to dealing with men, life and past experiences. While reading this novel, it felt as though Ms. Sinclair did her research with my friends from college. It felt like an epsiode of the "Oprah Winfrey Show," uplifing, true to life, educating and spiritual. I was even able to relate to Freddy's struggles with himself and his race. I look forward to reading more about Dee Dee and all of her friends.

P.S.: I'm even going to look into belly dancing:)

After seeing the movie, I thought that this book would have been addicting. IT WASN'T! I really thought that the main plot of the book was well thought out but the over use of metaphors and the awful characterization made the book really hard to read. You almost start hating Beth right from the beginning when she says, "she only likes the baby." How could you possibly say that when your other two children are in listening distance? Then, when Ben is kidnapped, you are expected be sorry for her. Based on her first conversation, wouldn't you think that she would be happy? I do think that the author captured some of the feelings a mother must feel after such a horrible thing can happen to her but when the author creates such an easily hated character you don't really care about how she feels. I really felt sorry for the rest of her family whom she pushed away throughout the whole situation and I wish that thier feelings could have been brought out more in this book. I believe that the youngest boy must have had the toughest time because he had blamed himself for so many years. He will most likely have mental and social problems his whole life because of this. Why didn't his parents ever think of getting him counseling? They seemed to be to caught up in themselves to even consider this. Overall, I enjoyed the suspense of this book but I found it really hard to get through. It was really slow and I think that much of it could have been cut out. The author has a lot of talent but I just couldn't get over my dislike of the main character. I think that this really affected my attitude while reading this book and could account for my dislike of it. In general, this book did not meet my high expectations.

This book was not easy to read, as the main character, Beth, was hard to like. But it is a satisfying story, and Mitchard captures the pain and suffering associated with the disappearance of a child. I do not have children, yet I was deeply disturbed by her description of the events surrounding the kidnapping and subsequent search for Ben.
The theme that I found most interesting was that ultimately, Reese/Vincent was the 'lost' child, due to his family's inability to cope with the events surrounding Ben's disappearance. Ben/Sam was truly loved and nurtured in his formative years, while Reese/Vincent was neglected, thus leading to his antisocial behavior later in life.
Maybe the anger at the treatment of Reese/Vincent and Kerry is the basis for the negative reviews other readers have posted.

Maybe I liked this book because I had a lot of connections with Beth. I too am the mother of three children. I have a 7 year old son, a baby daughter, and of course a "Ben" my three year old son. After reading the first chapter and discovering what the book was about, it was hard for me to pick it back up. It was so easy for me to feel Beth's emotions. I felt like I was experiencing her loss. After avoiding the book for a couple of weeks, I finally picked it back up. I found myself practically falling asleep during carpool because I had stayed up too late the night before unable to put the book down. I did find the story depressing. However, I think I came away from the book with something positive. It made me want to connect with my children more. I find myself wanting to reach out to my strong willed "Vincent." I thought the Kerry character could have been developed more. Her relationship with Ben and Vincent for that matter didn't really get explored. Overall, I enjoyed the book and am glad I read it