Book review of Sex, Drugs & Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Mainfesto

Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto by Chuck Klosterman

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
Chuck and I are generational twins, despite him being four years older. I will be forever grateful for Fargo Rock City, his clarion call to give Heavy Metal Music the respect it is due, and his deep(er than it should be, probably) thinking on arcane and trivial subjects thrills me to my toes. It turned out I had read this already, but I enjoyed again the reason Generation X is so whiny (thanks Luke Skywalker), why soccer is lame, and why returning phone calls to reporters behooves you if you want to control the media.

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Meeting the Beres Family.

The Beres family met me at First Unitarian Church of Budapest. Ibolya Beres, (mother) and Barnabas (son) were happy to see me. The father, Gyorgy, was working and I would meet him later. When they asked me what I wanted to do I told them I would love to eat and then go to sleep. And that is what we did.

The Beres family were stellar, out of this world hosts. I’m not sure what I–a person who, outside of 4 out-of-town high school choir students in 1988, has never hosted anyone–did to deserve such luxury. I enjoyed every minute of it.

We went to Gundel where I had an absolutely fabulous meal. It consisted of cold zucchini soup–who knew it could be so good–a cold salmon and eggplant dish and dessert. I got the famous Gundel dessert which was a filled crepe. The Beres family shares my healthy appreciation for dessert in general and ice cream in particular.

With my appetite sated, we journeyed to the Beres house where met Gyorgy, as well as Barnabas’ grandmother. I found my bathroom, room and bed in quick order and I slept 12 hours.
The Beres house. Gyorgy has a doctor’s office on the first floor. There is a waiting room and two exam rooms as well as my bathroom and bedroom and a separate apartment for Barnabas’ grandmother. The family lives on the second floor.
Ibolya and Barnabas outside. I’ve got some pictures of Gyorgy coming in the next post.
My bedroom and bed. It was very comfortable and quiet.

I forgot to mention in the last post that the airline lost my luggage. They also lost Eric and Isabelle’s. I blame the quick connection between Amsterdam and Budapest, but really, why couldn’t they get all of our luggage on the same plane? So I arrived in Hungary with what was in my backpack (luckily, my toiletries) and Marcia kindly lent me a shirt and a pair of socks for Saturday.

Also! Hungarian has all sorts of cool accent marks that aren’t available on Blogger. So really, their last name is B-e[accent mark slanting to the left]-r-e-s. Barnabas’s name has a slanty to the left accent over the third a, and his father has an umlaut over the “o” in his name.