Just lots of pot and cheap beer and a half-baked desire to become a hippie. Welcome to the end of the 60’s era. In 1972, David Noonan dropped out of college for no good reason, worked nights in a gas station and days in a cemetery, then quit both jobs to hitchhike west and meet up with his brother John, a natural-born rambler and a certified member of the counterculture. Attempted Hippie is Noonan’s vivid account of his odyssey from New Jersey to California and back again. It’s a funny, un-romanticized tale of a young man with the wrong glasses and the wrong hair searching for himself …and his next ride.

    Astonishing and unforgettable, this is a captivating story about the effects of abuse on the mind of a child, the heart wrenching struggles of an impoverished family, and how a young girl strives and dreams for something better. Born in the Philippines in the 1960s, Xulli is the first child of many. By the time she is four, she is taking care of three other siblings with both her mother and father working. In the beginning things were difficult but not desperate. But then life turns exceedingly ugly when her father begins binging on gin, spending nearly every penny he earns on his addiction and leaving his family on the brink of starvation on a daily basis. The alcohol makes her abusive father mean. And very violent. At first, his anger is mostly directed at her mother, but after a particularly nasty beating, she flees for her life, leaving the children with him. Her father then turns his attention to Xulli and her siblings. Cruelly, he tries to teach the youngest ones that they don’t need their mother or milk by putting hot peppers on the nipples of their bottles. With her mother missing, Xulli must find a way to protect her siblings from their father and provide for their needs. Eventually her mother returns and the abusive cycle continues. Plagued by death, loss, and periods of starvation, Xulli struggles to provide for her siblings, when she is just a child herself. Even through many horrible experiences and extraordinary challenges, her spirit shines, never giving up hope. Demonstrating an extraordinary resiliency to survive against all odds, Xulli inspires us as she finds the courage to succeed in her own life. A note from the author: “I have written this book to raise awareness of the wide spread domestic violence and child abuse that is so prevalent in the Filipino culture. All too often children in the Philippines are robbed of their basic human rights to an education because they have to become parents to their siblings or have been sold for money. Through my writing and work, it is my passionate goal to help stop domestic violence and child abuse by educating the very young as well as adults about the effects of physical, emotional, and mental abuse, and show those in need how and where to seek help.” Victoria Mulato Note: When you order a copy of Sister Moon of the Philippines, a percentage of the proceeds from the sale of this book will be donated to organizations that are working to preventing child abuse.

    No matter the trouble, they faced it with determination, camaraderie, and resourcefulness. In the midst of the Great Depression, despite record-breaking heat and crop failure, growing up on the family farm was nevertheless filled with bucolic pleasures.Farm Girl is Beuna "Bunny" Coburn Carlson's loving tribute to the gently rolling hills of western Wisconsin. With an inviting and fluid voice, she shares intimate moments of happinesses from her childhood: collecting butternuts for homemade maple candy, watching her father read by the flickering light of a kerosene lamp, and the joy of finding a juicy orange at the bottom of a Christmas stocking. Underlying each vignette is the courage of a strong family surviving adversity and finding comfort in one another. Hers is a memoir that readers can dip in and out of with pleasure.

    The secret, though, that surrounded my parents’ unhappy life together, was divulged to me by accident . . .’ Hidden under some papers in his father’s bureau, the sixteen-year-old Derek Malcolm finds a book by the famous criminologist Edgar Lustgarten called The Judges and the Damned. Browsing through the Contents pages Derek reads, ‘Mr Justice McCardie tries Lieutenant Malcolm – page 33.’ But there is no page 33. The whole chapter has been ripped out of the book. Slowly but surely, the shocking truth emerges: that Derek’s father, shot his wife’s lover and was acquitted at a famous trial at the Old Bailey. The trial was unique in British legal history as the first case of a crime passionel, where a guilty man is set free, on the grounds of self-defence. Husband and wife lived together unhappily ever after, raising Derek in their wake. Then, in a dramatic twist, following his father’s death, Derek receives an open postcard from his Aunt Phyllis, informing him that his real father is the Italian Ambassador to London . . . By turns laconic and affectionate, Derek Malcolm has written a richly evocative memoir of a family sinking into hopeless disrepair. Derek Malcolm was chief film critic of the Guardian for thirty years and still writes for the paper. Educated at Eton and Merton College, Oxford, he became first a steeplechase rider and then an actor after leaving university. He worked as a journalist in the sixties, first in Cheltenham and then with the Guardian where he was a features sub-editor and writer, racing correspondent and finally film critic. He directed the London Film Festival for a spell in the 80s and is now President of both the International Film Critics Association and the British Federation of Film Societies. He lives with his wife Sarah Gristwood in London and Kent and has published two books – one on Robert Mitchum and another on his favourite 100 films. He is a frequent broadcaster on radio and television and a veteran of film festival juries all over the world.

    As the Vietnam war took more and more of his friends, and many of those who returned sank further into drugs and despair, Stan looked for meaning and found nothing. His life's purpose lay thirty-three hundred miles northwest, deep in the Tozitna River Valley in the heart of Alaska's frozen interior. Deadly cold, famine, grizzly bears, and one unruly sled dog with a grudge kept Stan on the knife's edge between survival and death. Humbled by the power of nature, the Boston greaser who was destined for prison found a new life in the wild, where one mistake can prove fatal. This is the true story of Stan Zuray's incredible journey; the reformation of a man's heart and mind in the forbidding darkness of Alaska's endless winter.

    When child actor Ken Osmond stepped onto the set of Leave it to Beaver in 1957, he not only entered our living rooms, he homesteaded a permanent place in the American pop culture. The poster child for sneaky, rotten kids everywhere, he was the reference point for cautious mothers to warn their children about. And everyone in America knew an Eddie Haskell at some point in his or her lives. The amazing phenomenon of Ken Osmond’s character is still going strong, over half a century after the show’s cancellation. Even today, the name Eddie Haskell remains firmly entrenched in the American lexicon. Political foes from both sides of the ideological spectrum love to accuse their opponents of, “acting like Eddie Haskell,” and when Kobi Bryant argues a referee’s call, tweets go out labeling him as an “Eddie Haskell.” Psychology Today Magazine has published articles about recognizing and treating “Eddie Haskell Syndrome” and Matt Groening created Bart Simpson as his own version of “the son of Eddie Haskell.” Now it’s time to meet Ken Osmond, the man behind America’s preeminent bad boy. A man who, as co-star Jerry Mathers said, “Was the best actor on the program, because he was so diametrically opposed to the character he played.” A devoted husband, father and patriot, he’s a man who’s been forever shadowed by Eddie Haskell, but whose own life, was even more amazing than the character he portrayed.

    But the historic landfall of October 1492 was only a secondary event of the year. The preceding January, they had accepted the surrender of Muslim Granada, ending centuries of Islamic rule in their peninsula. And later that year, they had ordered the expulsion or forced baptism of Spain's Jewish minority, a cruel crusade undertaken in an excess of zeal for their Catholic faith. Europe, in the century of Ferdinand and Isabella, was also awakening to the glories of a new age, the Renaissance, and the Spain of the "Catholic Kings" - as Ferdinand and Isabella came to be known - was not untouched by this brilliant revival of learning. Here, from the noted historian Malveena McKendrick, is their remarkable story.

    More unusually, they were at the time travelling together from Moscow to Vancouver by human power — boat, bike, and foot. That day, they were examining a road atlas and in particular the labyrinth of European inland waterways it revealed. Julie traced a route of interconnected canals, rivers, and coastlines that led from Colin’s parents’ homeland of Scotland past her mother’s homeland, Germany, and on to her father’s, Syria. She said, half-seriously: We could row (yes, row, as in propelling a tippy little boat on a pond) all the way from Scotland to Syria to visit our relatives. It was a reckless sort of joke to make, given the couple’s addiction to adventure. The result is Rowed Trip, an odyssey by oar (and bike) from Caithness, Scotland, across the English Channel, through France, across the Rhine, the Main-Donau Canal to the Danube, the Black Sea, the Bosphorous Straits, and the Mediterranean. Julie and Colin each describe how the trip allowed them to test their relationship, to explore their roots, and to indulge to the max their shared taste for adventure.

    Realizing that years of work and travel in other people's countries made her a stranger in her own, and with an invitation to meet her biological father for the first time, Karen Larsen set out on a fifteen-thousand-mile trip with nothing but her motorcycle and the barest of essentials.Larsen's journey tests the limits of her own endurance, challenges her long-held beliefs and values, and asks what it means to belong to a family. Through the the fields of Iowa and the deserts of the Southwest, over the Rockies and across Alaska's Kenai Peninsula, Larsen confronts questions of femininity, family, independence, and personal identity.Her journey speaks to the immense space and over-whelming beauty of North America, as well as to the diversity and vitality of the people she meets along the way. Breaking the Limit invites you to join her as she braces against the wind, trades security for freedom, sacrifices stability for motion, and opens herself up to the vast canopy of a continent.

    I hated working for him and I hated being around him. I hated it when he walked through the front door at home. And we feared him from the moment he pulled up in front of the house in his car.” So writes conservative firebrand and popular radio host Larry Elder. For ten years Elder and his father did not talk to each other. When they finally did, the conversation went on for eight hours—eight hours that took Elder on his father’s journey from the Jim Crow South, to service in the Marine Corps, to starting a business in Southern California. Elder emerged not just reconciled with his dad, but admiring him, and realizing that he had never fully known him or understood him.  Heartfelt, beautifully written, compulsively readable, A Lot Like Me—originally published as Dear Father, Dear Son—is both a powerfully affecting memoir and a personal, provocative slice of American history.

    In Running to Extremes, she attempts to answer that question and many more about ultramarathon running. In the past few years, Lisa has taken part in some of the most gruelling races on earth. Not content with having run the Badwater Ultramarathon once, she's been back and done it a second time. She's also completed the Gobi March and a race in the Egyptian Sahara. However, none of these could have prepared her for her greatest challenge to date: La Ultra, a 222-kilometre non-stop race over two Himalayan mountain passes. Running to Extremes tells the stories behind these races and provides plenty of advice for runners of all levels and distances. Filled with training tips, gear lists, information on nutrition and supplements, advice on mental preparation and, most importantly, a focus on how to keep yourself healthy while training and racing, it will inspire and motivate runners and non-runners alike.

    

    From his not-so-innocent youth growing up in the shadow of Disneyland and summer evenings in the innocent 1950s, to his dope-smoking, snake-eating, draft-dodging, loony-bin misadventure through Europe, to his struggles to build a thriving enterprise from a stack of dusty albums—see how the CEO of a worldwide company took fifty years to become an overnight success.Unlike Paul, you may never get picked up by the Secret Service or carry the shame of bankruptcy, but you just might see yourself in his repeated failures or in his refusal to let life keep him down. You'll laugh and you'll cry as Paul describes the struggle of finding his place in a community you never knew existed. Through it all, you'll discover what Paul did: life's detours offer the best opportunities to find your way.

    He could run, throw, field and he had a sweet swing. But during his twelve years in the major leagues, Pepi devoted most of his energy to swinging off the field. He blew his career, he destroyed two marriages, he lost three children and he came very close to a nervous breakdown. At age 33 he gave up a $70,000 contract in Japan and quit baseball for good. He finally admitted that most of his life he had been living a lie, acting the carefree clown to cover up his inner pain. It was time to close the act. In Joe, You Coulda Made Us Proud, Pepitone attempts to show what was behind his berserk behavior. He does so in the most devastatingly honest terms, holding back none of the embarrassment, the anguish, the guilt he kept accumulating. He tells of the father he loved so much, "Willie Pep" Pepitone, the toughest man in a tough Brooklyn neighborhood. Obsessed with making his son a baseball star, Willie constantly beat hell out of Joe. One night, enraged at his father, Joe said,"Mom- I wish he'd die!" The next day Willie died. He tells how he demolished two marriages by trying to ball American, of how he was haunted by the words of his first child - "Daddy, don't leave me" - and of the nights when the guilt left him impotent. Despite the travail, though, there is much humor in Joe's story. Such as the time he was staying at Frank Sinatra's home, and Joe has a $350 pool shot line up. Just as he shot, Sinatra knocked the ball away. "All right, Frank... I won the money." Sinatra, grinning, said, "Joe, this is my game, this is my table - and we are playing my rules." Usually Joe Pepitone played only by his rules, and those rules maimed him. Yet his regrets are not for what he did to himself... "You do what you have to do, and you pay the price - but you pay it double when you see how it has hurt others you love." - from book's dustjacket

    On programmes such as My Word! and My Music his distinctive voice became familiar to millions as he displayed an astonishingly well-stocked mind and a genius for ad libbing and outrageous puns. Later, working at the BBC and then at London Weekend Television, he produced some of the best television comedy of the 1960s and 70s. He has written highly successful books for children, and two bestselling anthologies of humour.Frank Muir recalls, in glorious detail, a happy 1920s childhood in the seaside town of Ramsgate, where he was born in his grandmother's pub in Broadstairs, and in London, where he attended an inexpensive but excellent school of a kind no longer to be found. He remembers his very first joke at the age of six, when he knew that his destiny was to make people laugh. He also knew from an early age that he wanted to write, but it took a childhood illness for him to discover that humour and writing could be combined. The death of his father forced him to leave school at the age of fourteen and work in a factory making carbon paper. Then, at the outbreak of the Second World War, he joined the RAF as an air photographer and his memories of the war years, as might be imagined, are engagingly different from the usual kind. It was during those years, with their rich fund of comic material, that he began his career as scriptwriter and performer. At his demob in 1945 he moved naturally to London and the Windmill Theatre, that remarkable breeding ground of talent where new comedians like Jimmy Edwards and Alfred Marks vied with nude girls for the attention of the audience. In story after story he recalls the lost world of London in the 1940s and early 50s, when the laughter and creative ideas seemed to explode out of post-war shabbiness and austerity. Then came the BBC, the legendary partnership with Denis Norden, and half a century of fulfilling the boyhood ambition of that Kentish lad. 'All I ever wanted to do was to write and amuse people.'