Thirty essays from Tom DiVenti's original Splice Series, an American mythology in plain language. The author defines himself, his context and our shadows, all in flickering neon. Mr. DiVenti survived the game and took the trouble to write it all down, aware of this moment in history. The essays are meant to be read aloud, where drinks are served, and lighting isn't great. He writes of the confused emotion defining an age in which we are saturated in the deep fried oil of advertising. Used car salesman are synonymous with American politicians. The collection is timed perfectly. Not since the sixties has there been this much outrage with the irrationally driven state of affairs, our cycles of corruption and abundance of hidden information. Tom writes about what we have stepped in, that pile on the sidewalk, communicating like a beer bottle thrown against a barroom wall, shattering beside the black and white broadcasting evening news that reports on all that is being "e;destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked . . ."e;
No, no, NO! Geraldine is NOT moving. Not to this new town where she’s the only giraffe. Not to this new school where she has no friends. Not to this new place, where everyone only knows her as That Giraffe Girl. But soon Geraldine meets Cassie, a girl who is just as much of an outcast as she is, and as time goes by, she realizes that being yourself and making one really good, unusual friend can help someone who literally stands out fit right in. Together, Geraldine and Cassie play by their own rules.
Chadwick, a Chesapeake Bay crab, yearns for adventure and finds it in a most dangerous form, prompting the birds and marine animals who share the Bay to come to his rescue on the mainland.
Scarlett and Beauregard, pergrine falcons living on the ledge of a Baltimore skyscraper, hatch four chicks. One of the chicks --Perry-- is especially eager to grow up so he can fly from the nest and explore the world around him. Beauregard promises to take Perry on a tour of the city when he is old enough. That day finally comes, and the two birds fly off on their adventure. Perry has a wonderful time seeing Baltimore's sights and learning about the famous and not-so-famous who lived in "Charm City."
From acclaimed journalist Ben Bradlee Jr. comes the epic biography of Boston Red Sox legend Ted Williams that baseball fans have been waiting for. Williams was the best hitter in baseball history. His batting average of .406 in 1941 has not been topped since, and no player who has hit more than 500 home runs has a higher career batting average. Those totals would have been even higher if Williams had not left baseball for nearly five years in the prime of his career to serve as a Marine pilot in WWII and Korea. He hit home runs farther than any player before him -- and traveled a long way himself, as Ben Bradlee, Jr.'s grand biography reveals. Born in 1918 in San Diego, Ted would spend most of his life disguising his Mexican heritage. During his 22 years with the Boston Red Sox, Williams electrified crowds across America -- and shocked them, too: His notorious clashes with the press and fans threatened his reputation. Yet while he was a God in the batter's box, he was profoundly human once he stepped away from the plate. His ferocity came to define his troubled domestic life. While baseball might have been straightforward for Ted Williams, life was not. The Kid is biography of the highest literary order, a thrilling and honest account of a legend in all his glory and human complexity. In his final at-bat, Williams hit a home run. Bradlee's marvelous book clears the fences, too.
A volume in the American Sociological Association's Rose Series in Sociology West Baltimore stands out in the popular imagination as the quintessential “inner city”—gritty, run-down, and marred by drugs and gang violence. Indeed, with the collapse of manufacturing jobs in the 1970s, the area experienced a rapid onset of poverty and high unemployment, with few public resources available to alleviate economic distress. But in stark contrast to the image of a perpetual “urban underclass” depicted in television by shows like The Wire, sociologists Karl Alexander, Doris Entwisle, and Linda Olson present a more nuanced portrait of Baltimore’s inner city residents that employs important new research on the significance of early-life opportunities available to low-income populations. The Long Shadow focuses on children who grew up in west Baltimore neighborhoods and others like them throughout the city, tracing how their early lives in the inner city have affected their long-term well-being. Although research for this book was conducted in Baltimore, that city’s struggles with deindustrialization, white flight, and concentrated poverty were characteristic of most East Coast and Midwest manufacturing cities. The experience of Baltimore’s children who came of age during this era is mirrored in the experiences of urban children across the nation. For 25 years, the authors of The Long Shadow tracked the life progress of a group of almost 800 predominantly low-income Baltimore school children through the Beginning School Study Youth Panel (BSSYP). The study monitored the children’s transitions to young adulthood with special attention to how opportunities available to them as early as first grade shaped their socioeconomic status as adults. The authors’ fine-grained analysis confirms that the children who lived in more cohesive neighborhoods, had stronger families, and attended better schools tended to maintain a higher economic status later in life. As young adults, they held higher-income jobs and had achieved more personal milestones (such as marriage) than their lower-status counterparts. Differences in race and gender further stratified life opportunities for the Baltimore children. As one of the first studies to closely examine the outcomes of inner-city whites in addition to African Americans, data from the BSSYP shows that by adulthood, white men of lower status family background, despite attaining less education on average, were more likely to be employed than any other group in part due to family connections and long-standing racial biases in Baltimore’s industrial economy. Gender imbalances were also evident: the women, who were more likely to be working in low-wage service and clerical jobs, earned less than men. African American women were doubly disadvantaged insofar as they were less likely to be in a stable relationship than white women, and therefore less likely to benefit from a second income. Combining original interviews with Baltimore families, teachers, and other community members with the empirical data gathered from the authors’ groundbreaking research, The Long Shadow unravels the complex connections between socioeconomic origins and socioeconomic destinations to reveal a startling and much-needed examination of who succeeds and why.
Two brothers . . . Two different sides of the law . . . One hustle. Derek Fuller and Scar Johnson were separated as young boys in the Baltimore foster care system. When they finally reunited, it didn't matter to them that they were operating on different sides of the law. Derek was a cop, and Scar a notorious drug dealer, but family came first, and these two formed a partnership that was bound to make both of them very rich men—until Scar realized he couldn't keep his hands off Derek's wife. Tiphani Fuller may have been unsatisfied by her husband, but she never expected to fall for her brother-in-law. Now she's in over her head, doing things that make her no better than the criminals she sees in her courtroom. She's using her new position as a circuit court judge to feed information to Scar and his Dirty Money Crew so they can go on a crime spree with no fear of prosecution. Throw in a cast of characters including an ex-convict who'll do anything for love, a detective who's hell-bent on revenge, and a mayor who breaks more laws than the criminals on the streets, and you have a story that could only come from the mind of Treasure Hernandez. In The Baltimore Chronicles Saga, there is no difference between the bad guys and the good guys. Everyone has an agenda, and every page is full of lust, lies, revenge, and murder.
This picture book debut from award-winning, "New York Times"-bestselling crime fiction author Lippman offers a timely parable about family values, a little girl, and a dragon. Full color.
Carsick is the New York Times bestselling chronicle of a cross-country hitchhiking journey with America's most beloved weirdo. John Waters is putting his life on the line. Armed with wit, a pencil-thin mustache, and a cardboard sign that reads "I'm Not Psycho," he hitchhikes across America from Baltimore to San Francisco, braving lonely roads and treacherous drivers. But who should we be more worried about, the delicate film director with genteel manners or the unsuspecting travelers transporting the Pope of Trash? Before he leaves for this bizarre adventure, Waters fantasizes about the best and worst possible scenarios: a friendly drug dealer hands over piles of cash to finance films with no questions asked, a demolition-derby driver makes a filthy sexual request in the middle of a race, a gun-toting drunk terrorizes and holds him hostage, and a Kansas vice squad entraps and throws him in jail. So what really happens when this cult legend sticks out his thumb and faces the open road? His real-life rides include a gentle eighty-one-year-old farmer who is convinced Waters is a hobo, an indie band on tour, and the perverse filmmaker's unexpected hero: a young, sandy-haired Republican in a Corvette. Laced with subversive humor and warm intelligence, Carsick is an unforgettable vacation with a wickedly funny companion—and a celebration of America's weird, astonishing, and generous citizenry.
