IF YOU ARE AFRAID of a sweeping tour of our nation's lesser-known fishing holes
IF YOU ARE AFRAID of meeting a Kool-Aid Wino
IF YOU ARE AFRAID of a Non-Three-Legged-Crow Bookstore owner
THEN DO NOT READ THIS BOOK
* * * *
There is something that happened to me quite, recently that may help clarify a lot about Richard Brautigan and this book. I was walking along this muddy path in the woods, right near my house in Maryland, when I heard this faint screeching up ahead. As I got closer, I could distinguish a man's voice. He seemed to be screaming frantically against a background of loud, chaotic piano-banging. I kept on walking, and the voice was exactly like Hitler's, even down to the 1930's crackly sound. My God, I thought, it's Hitler screaming against a piano! But no, I was wrong. It was only one of those play-by-play basketball announcers on the radio. Boy, was I relieved.