This Hockey Dad, Bob McKenzie, is not afraid to look into the mirror and candidly assess and reveal his own strengths and weaknesses. He has anecdotes that will make you laugh, stories that will bring a tear to your eye, and insights into this minor hockey world that can only come from having lived through the highs and the lows and everything in between with two boys who grew up in an environment where minor hockey was their epicenter. Michael is now a 22-year-old entering his junior year playing NCAA hockey on scholarship, one step away from the professional ranks. Shawn, now 19, had his competitive minor hockey life cut drastically short at age 14 because of complications from multiple concussions. While Michael has attempted to, and continues to try to, scale the heights within hockey, Shawn has, at times, had to navigate the depths. Their deeply personal stories, and how their father dealt with them (sometimes well, sometimes not so well), are a compelling look into the world of minor hockey--a major Canadian passion. From hysterically funny anecdotes, to debates on numerous hockey issues, praise and criticism for the system, and personal reflections on the game, this book is an insightful, irreverent, and moving look at a slice of hockey culture that is not so much a recreation as it is a way of life.

    Upon recovering he meets Captain Horatio Nelson, newly appointed to command of the Northern Leeward Islands squadron and the Royal Navy Dockyard at English Harbour in Antigua. Nelson's primary task is stamping out rampant American smuggling activity. But to succeed, Nelson needs information.Lieutenant Ross serves as a spy for Nelson against the smugglers, but they aren't his only foe. French and American spies supporting the smugglers are playing for far higher stakes, sowing the seeds of violent unrest. Lieutenant Ross is soon in the midst of desperate action and working with a beautiful slave woman to gain information as he struggles to stop to their plot.Dockyard Dog is the first novel in the Evan Ross series. Fans of Julian Stockwin, Dewey Lambdin, and Alexander Kent will enjoy reading this series.

    This is incidental as it is about neither of those industries in particular. It is about the magic and wonderment of those days as seen through the eyes of a child – my eyes! It is about the days when imagination was the biggest plaything that we possessed. The days when a plastic football provided a whole summer's play. It is about the scrapes that I found myself in and the things that I observed around me, and how they made me feel. All the stories are true and I personally experienced every one of them. The names of the characters have been changed. The reason being that I have no idea of the whereabouts of many of the characters contained within my stories, so I have no way of asking them for their permission to include them in this book. Some have possibly passed away, and it would be unfair of me to mention them without their blessing. Anyone who knows me will know who they are though.

    After Clint’s first collection of stories, which act as an apology to his wife (with essays taking a humorous yet critical look of his role as a husband), this natural follow up will place the author’s children at the center of the apology and recount funny and relatable tales of Clint’s various parenting fails. Stories will detail incidents of the author half surviving, half ruining birthdays, holidays, vacations and other important milestones in his children’s lives, and touchingly examine the ways he makes up for them.With this book exploring the widely universal theme of parenting, new audiences (as well as Clint’s dedicated following) will see stories as both a mirror of their own lives and a comic relief from it, and eagerly sink their teeth into this truthful and entertaining narrative. Essays include titles like, “I Changed A Friend’s Name in my Phone to Santa and Had Him Text Threats to my Children,” “Pro Tip: Pick Up The Dog Poop BeforeThe Easter Egg Hunt,” “Reasons My Children Cried At Their Own Birthday Parties,” and “I Am A Summer Scrooge.” Clint’s addicting voice, writing about being a parent around Christmas, Halloween, New Years and more, will help anyone who is a mother or father, who works with young children, is member of a large family or has ever taken care of another human being before relate to and connect with these stories.

    His experience was not the little league, boys-of-summer stuff of modern America. For him, it was life and death. Now middleaged and living in California, Alan finds himself coaching a team of eight-year-olds in his beloved sport—and nothing is going right. For a start, the kids are no good at soccer. Secondly, they’re pampered. Born and bred on the sport, Black’s hardscrabble Scottish upbringing consisted of playing tough and victory at all costs. Needless to say, his coaching methods are a far cry from the “winning isn’t everything” mentality his little leaguers have been reared with; and players and parents alike are shocked as Black attempts to transform the losing team through drills and bombast. Alone at night, watching evangelicals on TV, Black finds himself searching for some truth in the culture he finds so bizarre. And it’s with the Tigers that he feels most out of sync—faced with a mix of soft suburban children, a raft of overprotective parents, and an Iranian co-coach called Ali. Told with Black’s uproarious Scottish sensibility, Kick the Balls follows the abrasive, irreverent, and hilarious coach as he contends with a team that winds up with a zero-win record. Both a celebration of his own tough childhood and an account of one man’s navigation of an alien culture, Kick the Balls will delight fans of well-told, laugh-out-loud memoirs.

    With the help of the gang of girls of Weight Watchers, and their fearless leader —former fatty and community college dropout—Pantsuit Pam, Amye spends the next year losing weight and learning to live in a skinny (er) woman’s body. Only being skinny is not as easy as it looks, especially when inside, she will always be a fat girl. Fat Girl, Skinny is Amye’s story, but it’s also the story of anyone who has ever been told: “You’d be pretty…if”.

    I began the process without much enthusiasm and quickly got side lined by my new civilian life. Little did I realize that I wouldn’t re-visit my disability claims again until almost forty years later, when I watched President Barack Obama give a speech on the horrors of the Vietnam War. I’m still not quite sure what happened that day, but after listening to the president, I committed myself to investigate the causal link between my tactical pesticide exposures and the myriad health problems plaguing my life and the lives of many other Vietnam veterans. My post-service medical problems began mildly enough but soon balloned and were followed by more serious health issues. Every time I would ask one of my doctors what was causing my illness, I would usually get the answer, “I don’t know, but---.” When I began my research in 2012, I would learn that Agent Orange, along with several other military pesticides, were all very capable of impacting every biological system in my body and could actually be linked to many wide-ranging ailments for which many of my doctors could only say they weren’t sure of the cause. Despite the uniqueness of Vietnam veterans and the incredibly diverse range of hazardous chemicals to which we were exposed, the DVA insists on assessing our illnesses by using civilian epidemiological studies, resulting in appallingly inadequate standards for evaluating our toxic exposures during the war. During my years of research, I have quite literally reviewed thousands of studies and documents. The vast majority of those records came to the same inescapable conclusions as I eventually did at the end of my investigation. Low-level exposures to just the various known chemicals discussed in my book will attack living organisms on an undetected hormonal, genetic, and cellular/molecular level, producing covert systemic damage and alterations to immune, cardiovascular, endocrine, respiratory, and neurological systems of any human unlucky enough to be put in their path. Exactly how that damage and those alterations manifest depends on the several exposure factors which I discus in the book. Regrettably, I couldn’t go back over the last half a century to get a do-over or to have the war conducted differently. I couldn’t force our legislative or military leaders to make better decisions. I couldn’t rewrite the unpleasant history of the Vietnam War, with all the numerous negative impacts that war had on me and every other soldier, marine, or sailor who served the United States in South Vietnam and in the blue waters of the surrounding ocean. The very best I could do, almost a half century after the war, was to write an account of our betrayal and describe our exposures to the toxic pesticides and abhorrent conditions of the Vietnam War. All in the sincere effort to correct the present so that what occurred in South Vietnam will never happen again to new generations of military personnel, their families and their children and quite possibility their grandchildren’s children. The mountain of evidence presented in my book points to one common sense conclusion: Exposure to the tactical pesticides used in the Vietnam War were extremely injurious to the health of military personnel, as well as, the health of anyone else exposed to them. Despite all the facts, the government still places the burden of proof on veterans instead of taking responsibility for the mess they made during the Vietnam War or in the words of Dr. Jeanne Stellman, the Vietnam War is, "the largest unstudied environmental disaster in the world."

    Molly gives us his unforgettable encounters with The Beatles, Elton John, David Bowie, The Rolling Stones, Madonna, John Farnham, Bruce Springsteen, the Bee Gees, Rod Stewart, Russell Crowe, Oasis, Beyonce and Prince. As well as the tales that surround his other loves: the Australian cricket team, the St Kilda footy club and the Melbourne Storm."I have a lot of love for the great Ian 'Molly' Meldrum" - Shane WarneNo one has lived a life like Ian 'Molly' Meldrum. And no one can tell a story like Molly.

    Having uprooted herself from a promising career in publishing in her adopted Brooklyn, Palmer embarks on a quest to determine the fate of her lost homes—and of a community that has been erased by unchecked Southern progress. Palmer's journey takes her from the ruins of kudzu-covered, airport-owned ghost towns to carefully preserved cemeteries wedged between the runways; into awkward confrontations with airport planners, developers, and even her own parents. Along the way, Palmer becomes an amateur detective, an urban historian, and a mother. Lyrically chronicling the overlooked devastation and beauty along the airport’s fringe communities in the tradition of John Jeremiah Sullivan and Leslie Jamison, Palmer unearths the startling narratives about race, power, and place that continue to shape American cities. Part memoir, part urban history, Flight Path: A Search for My Roots beneath the World's Busiest Airport is a riveting account of one young mother's attempt at making a home where there’s little home left.

    draws on personal stories infused with humor and wisdom to extract impactful life lessons. He walks us through some of his most career-defining moments to emphasize the importance of living life with the punchline in mind. With a comedian's cadence and a dependable friend's outstretched hand, Michael Jr. addresses provocative issues including race, policing in America, forgiveness, socio-economics, and faith with gritty familiarity. While you will find yourself laughing out loud, at its core, FUNNY HOW LIFE WORKS reveals that if you pay close attention, the obstacles you face day to day are part of a much bigger plan that can help you realize and fulfill your life's mission. Like many of us, Michael Jr. wrestled with several moments of uncertainty, from living in his car to being held up by officers, but he never lost sight of the bigger picture. In this inspiring and self-reflective book, he implores us to do the same.

    On January 20, 2001--George W. Bush's first Inauguration Day--he hit rock bottom, waking up in the psych ward. Written with captivating honesty, Beckel chronicles how his addictions nearly killed him until he found help in an unexpected ally, conservative Cal Thomas, who helped him find faith, get sober, and get his life back on track.

    Personally, I think the eye-catching cover shot of me in my pajamas is reason enough. (By the way, those are my real kids on the cover, and yes, those are my actual ankles. No, I'm not retaining water.)What you're holding in your hands is a very funny and sometimes remarkably poignant look at fathers, not from the mother's point of view or the child's, but from the dad's side. Which is why it's called Tales from the Dad Side.It's filled with stories of what it's like to be a dad and a son, from a child's first day of kindergarten to the awkward sex talk and right up to the day the always-practical dad tries to pay for college with bonus miles. I was there for every landmark in my children's lives, except the day I was on the riding lawn mower and missed my son's first words, which my wife insists were “trust fund.”As children get older, the lessons of the father get harder, like teaching my son how to shave just as my father taught me, with a rusty double-edged safety razor. At the end of my dad's lesson, I emerged from the bathroom nicked and gouged, looking like an extra from a Quentin Tarantino film. My more civilized son is a Norelco man. With my high-school-age daughters, I promised them a day on which I'd take them anywhere and do anything with them they wanted, expecting them to ask for dinner and a movie; I was horrified when they told me they wanted all of us to get manicures and pedicures together. That was not the answer I was expecting; it was like discovering Lou Dobbs was an illegal alien.Over the course of raising three children, I have learned with my wife that fathers are different from mothers. That could be the greatest understatement since Noah turned on the Weather Channel and found out that the next forty days called for a 20 percent chance of light rain.The truth is, fatherhood is like Wikipedia: some parts based in fact, others just made up along the way. And while bookstores are filled with tales of mothers, their children and families, there are few from the dad's side. Now, as a public service, I'm doing my part to right this wrong.I sincerely hope this answers your questions. If perhaps it's not exactly your cup of tea, I bet you've got a father or mother in your life who'd like the stone-cold truth about dads. Besides, for the same money, you can either put three gallons of gas in your car or take home this book, which has a highway rating of 29 smiles an hour.Steve Doocy

    Wow. Too much energy. Wow. Too much anticipation. WOW. It’s the new memoir from the biggest star in gaming: Dr Disrespect.Dr Disrespect is a 6-foot-8 freak of nature with a 37-inch vertical, the two-time, back-to-back 1993-94 Blockbuster Video Game Champion, and in his factual opinion, the most dominant international gaming superstar in the history of the world. It was just a matter of time before Western civilization came begging Doc to save literature by writing a memoir that reads like a vicious, muscular lion clawing his way through the rocks, roaring in anger and dominance. Here you will find his deepest, most intimate secrets. The untold history of his mysterious, legendary origins and his rise to unparalleled dominance. And most of all, you will find out what, exactly, Doc’s a doctor of. Are you ready for a book with the rhythm of a sleazy ’70s muscleman and the ruthlessness of a ’90s serial killer? A journey that stares down the long, dark alley of your fears and never looks back? Does your warrior’s heart yearn to reach the tippity top of the mountain just to realize you’re still only halfway up? If so, firm handshakes, Champion: Welcome to the salvation of literature.

    At least that’s how it works when you’re dealing with the legendary mind of Carl Reiner. In his 2013 memoir, “I Remember Me,” Carl treated us to ninety years of professional and personal anecdotes, ranging from witty, weird and heartwarming to insightful, informative, and always funny – usually a combination of at least two, sometimes three or four, of the aforementioned. Carl had taken us on a nostalgic trip through every corner, every nook and cranny, of his life. Or so we thought. But over the next two years, new “old memories” kept coming… and coming… and coming… until, before too long, another book was born. In addition to the above adjectives, “I Just Remembered” adds a whole new batch: the mysterious saga of the gold money clip and the rubber bands; the beautiful and bizarre Joyce Kuntz; the shocking story of Jack Parr and Fidel Castro; never before heard revelations about William Shakespeare; whimsical journeys down the information superhighway via Twitter, Google and YouTube; and for good measure, truly useful health tips for a long and happy life. “I Just Remembered” is the perfect companion to “I Remember Me,” and it will have you asking, over and over, “How could he have forgotten that?!” He didn’t. He just remembered.