5 stars out of 5
How do I love thee? One of the ways is making me laugh. And nobody does that better than this author, who has been a favorite of mine ever since somewhere in the early 1980s (if memory serves me well) when I began reading - and giggling my way through - his syndicated newspaper columns. Several books have crossed my reading path as well, the latest being this one. It's a bit more introspective than others have been - after all, he's getting older like the rest of us (for the record, he's about seven years younger than I am). Nonetheless I chuckled, chortled and, on occasion, belly laughed my way from beginning to end.
Subtitled "The Simple Joys of an Old, Happy Dog," the center of attention here is Barry's aging dog Lucy. From watching (and clearly loving) her, he has derived seven "lessons" that everyone - not just those of us for whom the years ahead are far fewer than those we've left behind - would do well to consider. That's largely because Lucy has always known how to be happy; if we follow her examples, we, too, can live out the rest of our years as happier individuals with fewer regrets. Each chapter presents a new lesson (No. 1: Make New Friends (And Keep the Ones You Have), followed by his observations of Lucy's behavior and his conclusions as to why we humans would do well to be copycats.
Did I mention cats? That reminds me to mention Barry's often wry humor runs rampant throughout the book, including a reference to cats, who he claims "have the morals of Hannibal Lecter." My personal favorite is his take on the burden of Social Security costs that is being passed to younger generations: "I view this as payback for what the younger generations have done to music."
Both amusing, yes; but the "no spleen" story had me - quite literally - doubled over and in tears (you'll just have to read it for yourself).
Now that I've finished the book, I'll offer one of my own life lessons: Never underestimate the importance of laughter. It will - trust me on this - serve you well through the best of times and the worst of times. This book provides a wonderful reminder of that - and I thank the publisher (via NetGalley) for the opportunity to read and review an advance copy. It's rare that I say this, but I really, really didn't want this one to end.
Lessons From Lucy by Dave Barry (Simon & Schuster, October 2018); 208 pp.
4 stars out of 5
One of my favorite don't-miss TV shows is Bar Rescue, currently airing on the Spike channel on Sunday nights. That's not because I want to see feisty host and bar turnaround expert Jon Taffer get into shouting matches with the owners of the bars he's trying to rehabilitate (although I admit that makes it more fun), but rather because I'm interested in learning the whys of the business - or what Taffer calls the "science" behind the changes he advises. Although I've never been employed specifically in marketing, I've been involved to varying degrees in just about every job I've ever had - and I love to learn about human behavior, particularly as it relates to advertising and sales.
That's why this book caught my eye, and I thank the publisher, through NetGalley, for the opportunity to read it in exchange for a review. Given all the changes that cut through retail sectors today - mostly as a result of the Internet and social media, the author - a consultant in the areas of retail marketing and shopper insights - maintains that retailers must adopt multi-channel customer-driven strategies if they are to survive. Then, he tells them how to do just that, using plenty of examples backed up by in-depth research.
I will note a couple of things up front: First, the lion's share of the examples are based on companies outside the United States, and second, most involve the grocery sector - the author's special area of expertise. That said (actually, he said it too), the data can be applied to other retail environments and, for the most part, American businesses. No matter where they're based, retailers today need a better understanding of shoppers and must engage both their rational and emotional sides, the author says - but the ultimate goal is shopper happiness, accomplishing that while operating in several channels at the same time. Not an easy feat to be sure.
Mountains of data on shopper behavior is available (or can be), but retailers aren't necessarily utilizing it all that well. And, some of the commonly used data - like socio-demographics - isn't always reliable. I loved the author's example of two men, both born in 1948 in England, both married twice with kids and in high income brackets. It's easy to conclude, then, that their preferences in lifestyle, food and clothing would be similar - that is, until you learn that one is Prince Charles and the other is Ozzy Osbourne. Hmmmm - I'll take a wild guess and say they're not likely to shop for underwear at the same store. More to the point, a one-size-fits-all marketing approach to eliciting their happiness is beyond useless.
Chapters zero in on a variety of topics, such as private-label brands, self-scanning, loyalty cards, in-store scents and, the one that interests me most, music. Music has direct impact on revenue, shopping behavior, staff morale and brand image, the author notes, but emphasizes that choosing the right music is an art (especially given that it involves not only genre, but tempo, pitch and volume). Each chapter concludes with two key questions: What can you do to make your shoppers happy?, and, Which marketing strategies can retailers apply? Those answers are followed by extensive lists of references (a.k.a., source material). This is, IMHO, a scholarly work that certainly could serve as a textbook in a college retail marketing course; but it's very easy to read and packed with information that's bound to be helpful to anyone with an interest in retail marketing.
Retail Marketing Strategy by Constant Berkhout (Kogan Page, November 2015); 288 pp.
3 stars out of 5
This is a book I've had on my Kindle Fire for at least a year - probably two - but I just never got around to starting it. When I heard that it will be the basis for a new 13-episode TV series beginning June 30 on CBS, though, I decided to give it a go. First, I looked at the book reviews; to my dismay, as of late April there were 1,903 at Amazon, and an astounding 413 reviewers gave it the worst possible rating - one star - and the average is only three. Well, that's TV executives for you, I said to myself - who else would decide to take a book with that many lousy reviews and tout it as a must-watch series?
Nevertheless, I was determined to read for myself, and now that I've finished, I learned two things: First, the book probably wouldn't make my Top 300 List of favorites, but it isn't anywhere near that awful. Second, those TV execs may be onto something after all. Think "Planet of the Apes" meets "Under the Dome;" it's got all the hot buttons including animals of every kind in every country - even domestic pets - inexplicably forming packs and turning on humans, who suddenly find themselves being hunted down in a world in which they once ruled supreme.
Enter Ph.D. dropout Jackson Oz, a young biologist (and conveniently, a chimpanzee owner, which takes on significance as the plot unfolds), who begins to notice a sea change in animal behavior. When a major "event" takes place in Botswana, he travels there from his New York City home to see for himself. He narrowly escapes being killed by what appears to be an unusually coordinated pack of male lions, and he saves a beautiful young woman named Chloe from the same fate. They, together with a few like-minded folks, conclude that this is the start of HAC, or Human-Animal Conflict. If the cause isn't found and soon, it could mean the end of the civilized world.
Needless to say, hardly anyone of any importance buys into the theory until it's almost too late, so the scramble to find the reason(s) behind the behavioral shift extends over years - giving Jackson and Chloe time to marry and have a son. Fast-forward to a later time, when the animal attacks have grown more frequent and more vicious (cue up "Twilight Zone"-style background music for the TV series and close-ups of Texas-sized incisors as noses and other human appendages are savagely removed). There's no shortage of action and more than enough blood-and-guts to make for great TV scenes (if the lions and dogs don't get 'em, the rats will) as the race to save the human race from extinction heats up.
I can't explain more without giving too much away, but the reason behind the animals' behavior and the actions required to reverse it are a bit of a strain on the imagination (not to mention more than a little "preachy"). And given what the scientists discover, the ending makes almost no sense to me at all. I'm guessing that's what prompted the dislikes from other readers; I know it's why, even though the book held my attention just about every page of the way, I gave it three stars instead of four.
That said, I'm glad I read it prior to the start of the TV series, and I plan to watch the series debut and see how it goes. I could be wrong, but my bet at this point is that this will be one of very few instances when the movie really is better than the book.
Zoo by James Patterson and Michael Ledwidge (Little, Brown and Co., September 2012); 417 pp.
How do I love thee? One of the ways is making me laugh. And nobody does that better than this author, who has been a favorite of mine ever since somewhere in the early 1980s (if memory serves me well) when I began reading - and giggling my way through - his syndicated newspaper columns. Several books have crossed my reading path as well, the latest being this one. It's a bit more introspective than others have been - after all, he's getting older like the rest of us (for the record, he's about seven years younger than I am). Nonetheless I chuckled, chortled and, on occasion, belly laughed my way from beginning to end.
