

Hadjii, whose first film, Somebodies, debuted at the 2006 Sundance Festival, opens this memoir with an irony-laden declaration: "God forbid, a black man who isn't one-dimensional. Could it be that I'm a storyteller who's just telling stories?" He's drawing attention to the difficulties that some readers may have in trying to pigeon-hole him, a multi-dimensional entertainer whose pages are littered with unapologetically provocative language. His first sketch, concerning his experiences at a "white" college, ridicules white students writing about idyllic childhoods, followed by a black student's equally clichйd story of oppression, followed by his own refusal to "sit around and reminisce about bad times." He then launches into some very funny stories about growing up in a middle-class, church-going black family in a small Georgia town. The author has the ability to inject humor into utterly normal things, such as his mother's campaign against his "crusty draws," the way she painted his wounds with "Merthiolate...like alcohol on steroids," and his parents' annual "Battle of the Christmas Tree," during which they fight over every aspect of selecting (real v. fake, skinny v. full) and decorating (white lights v. colored, etc.). Twenty and thirty-somethings will eat this up; older readers willing to brave Hadjii's language may enjoy his stand-up sense of humor.
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