Customer Reviews

Municipal bondage: one man's anxiety-producing adventures in

5 star:		(8)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

This is one of the most hilarious books I have ever read bar none.

First, Alford provides some incredibly witty accounts of different "investigations" he conducts in New York City, such as hiring a clutter consultant, trying to get some fake heirlooms auctioned off at Sotheby's, trying to find a good bed and breakfast in Manhattan, hiring a nude housecleaning service, etc. In between each of these stories are some hilarious lists, such as "What if Frank Sinatra taught acting at UCLA" or "What if unemployed actors worked at banks instead of restaurants". The whole thing is great.

I found myself consistently laughing at some of the things Alford did in his investigations, such as gauging what happened when he asked the nude housecleaners to do things like bleach his tub or wash his windows from the outside. All in all, this is a very satisfying book for any fan of humor.

...in my opinion! Essays in the style of David Sedaris. The author takes tests for proficiency in dog grooming, hairstyling, and cement mixing. He invents an odd snack that he attempts to sell at a street fair. Best of all (oh, the best!) he investigates the listings for "Bed and Breakfast" operations in the middle of New York City and actually stays the night in several! Quaint country inns are one thing, but the middle of Manhattan? I loved this book and will seek out his other book pronto!

Reading like a collection of Magazine articles, Henry Alford's little book (a comforting 231 pages) is fine chuckle reading. Again and again he casts himself into silly situations and somehow turns normal citizens into fonts of comedy. Alford seems very much like an Andy Rooney for the `90s.

This is a pretty funny book--a guy who does a lot of crazy adventures and then writes about them. There's one where he took some fake heirlooms (pencil shavings, a bone) to Sotheby's auction house and tried to get a lot of money for them which I really liked.

I enjoyed this book immensely, as I might a large piece of pie. The author is obviously desperate for attention--but in the most charming way. I felt for him, at times; this work is shot through with a Chaplinesque pathos. His targets (with the exception of a funny-enough treatise on snack foods) are obscure but ripe. I'd love to see him write those crazy travel articles like SJ Perelman used to do. Reading this book has made it difficult for me to say the word "egress" without irony.

A lot of this book is like a really good magazine article. The list part was high-larious. One question: What's Coco?

One of the stories in this book--"You'll Never Groom Dogs in This Town Again"--is, without a doubt, the funniest piece of prose I have ever read.

Henry Alford's "You'll Never Groom Dogs in this Town Again" is, without a doubt, the funniest piece of prose I have ever read.

This book made me laugh out loud 27 times (I counted). Alford's sense of humor is absurdist and very deadpan; what's fun about the book is that it is a series of actual adventures that he goes on--he registers for gifts at New York City department stores, even though he is not getting married; he takes the National Dog Groomer Association Test, grooming a real dog for the judges, etc. My favorite line is from one where he learns how to dance the rhumba from a videotape; he says that when you dance the rhumba, your facial expression should be "simultaneously tragic and urgent, as if you have been shot in the stomach but are late for an appointment." If you like David Letterman's or Calvin Trillin's or David Sedaris's sense of humor--ironic but not mean spirited--you will like this book. Some of the writing is gorgeous, too; he can really turn a phrase. I gave this book to five of my friends as Christmas presents--two of them fell totally in love with the author's writing style and the book, two of them really, really liked it; and one is using the book as a coaster. But this last friend called me this fall and told me that Henry Alford is the host of a show on VH1 called "Rock of Ages" where he shows rock and roll music videos to strange groups of people like the Hells Angels and the New York Philharmonic. Kind of a weird guy, but definitely hilarious.

MUNICIPAL BONDAGE is suffused with wit, but merely sprinkled with humor. Alford seems to be in search of an Andy Rooneynesque mien, but in most of his contrivances, he makes light of people rather than the absurdity of the situation.

One's inability to acquire certification as a dog groomer, cement mason, cosmetologist or for that matter, dentist (which he did not attempt), has little intrinsic humor. The author seems oblivious to the fact nearly all occupations have an associated degree of skill. If his attempts to milk humor in these predicaments had been primarily self-deprecating, that's one thing but more often than not, he devined for after-the-fact thinly veiled, ridicule, which was patently unfunny. Now, if Clifford the curmudgeonly cocker spaniel had bitten him as he deserved during the groomer's exam, that would have been funny. This book is not Lucy and Ethel in the candy factory.

I don't mean to imply the book was without its moments. Illuminating the idiosyncratics one might encounter in everyday life such as his adventures with Manhattan bed and breakfast proprietors or fraudalent psychic advisors, was funny, though not necessarily, of the 'rolling in the aisles' variety.

Similarly, his lists of "what if's" ranged from mild amusement to banality. Many of the references have not held up well over time. Only the over the hill like me, or someone who has spent way too much time watching classic television is likely to "get" the humor in a dog who becomes pope requesting an audience with June Lockhart.

Essentially, the ratio of chuckles to grimaces was not sufficient to rate this book any higher.