From Publishers Weekly
Zizi is an ailing but feisty 83-year-old Italian matriarch, widowed and living alone in Yonkers, N.Y. Honeyboy is her nickname for her nephew, author Celente, a divorced analyst who directs the Trends Research Institute. Here, Celente shares about 20 conversations that the two had in 1999 over home-cooked meals and Scrabble games at Zizi's kitchen table. (Recipes for Zizi's breaded chicken cutlets and anise cookies are included.) In the spirit of Mitch Albom's Tuesdays with Morrie, this is a book in which a wise, spiritual older person offers heartfelt advice to an overworked baby boomer. However, while Albom freely shared his emotions, Celente generally responds with facts and figures. For example, when Celente complains about Zizi's lifelong cigarette habit, she jokingly asks if marijuana would be preferable. Celente curtly says that he used to smoke pot but doesn't anymore. Before Zizi can respond in what could have been a lively debate, Celente compares and contrasts the effects of smoking marijuana vs. tobacco, launching into a long, statistic-laden monologue. The book also contains a fair amount of politically incorrect observations made, ironically, by Celente and not Zizi (e.g., when Celente speaks of some of his acquaintances who won't hire a black acupuncturist, he says, "these guys aren't racists, that's just the way it is.") Not surprisingly, the book is at its strongest when Zizi talks and Celente listens. Her recollection of a near-death experience involving the entertainer Danny Thomas is both poignant and hilarious. This is a sweet if at times frustrating inspirational tome. B&w photos.
Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information, Inc.
From Booklist
Celente, a top trends analyst featured in newspapers and on TV, was going through a painful divorce. Zizi, his 80-year-old aunt, had just lost her husband. They had already been close, but now they were spending much more time together and forming a special bond. Zizi's endearing, homespun wisdom has been all but lost. Working through painful phlebitis in her legs, she continues to serve up huge Italian meals for Gerald and impart her thoughts on the sorry state of affairs of fractured families, the displaced and abandoned elderly, and the corrupt government that says it cares but does little. "Look at all these pills they want me to take," she says. "What are they, crazy? If I took every one of them I'd either be a drug addict or I'd be dead." As she looks back on missed opportunities, she tells Gerald, "Don't save all your money for a rainy day, because you may end up spending it all on rain. Spend some on sunshine. Enjoy your life." Zizi's wisdom is good medicine for Gerald and can help anyone through tough times.
David SiegfriedCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
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