 Patrick McManus's wry wit has made him an American classic, his trademark
outdoorsman's humor endearing him not only to fellow wilderness enthusiasts,
but to anyone who enjoys humor and can bear witness to the antics and
anecdotes McManus recounts. In his newest collection of hilarious essays, he
ponders the strange allure of the RV, a thirtieth-century hunting trip, the
art of wrestling toads, the existential implications of being lost, the
baffling tendency of animals to outsmart those who wish to hunt them, the
singular pleasure of doubling the size of every fish one doesn't catch, and
what happens when a bear named Pooky decides to hibernate in the attic.
Combining the curmudgeonly tone of Dave Barry and the clever
insights of Garrison Keillor with his own keen sense of the absurd, McManus
brilliantly captures the funny and strange in our everyday existence. But
within his entertaining anecdotes and revealing observations, McManus also
evokes a childlike wonder at the natural world. Even if we are running low
on food, the compass is broken, and we are fairly certain we have just
spotted a family of Sasquatches frolicking in the treetops, The Bear in
the Attic makes the outdoors seem irresistible.
Excerpt From The Bear in the
Attic
By Patrick F. McManus
Buck showed up at the office. He pulled the tiny bear out of his jacket pocket and held it out to Uncle Charles. "I couldn't bring myself to conk it," he said. "None of the men would do it either. It's just too cute. So I figured I'd let you do it."
"And you call yourselves loggers," Uncle Charles said. "A bunch of girls is more like it. Give it to me, Buck."
The Forman handed over the cub and backed off, cringing slightly. Uncle Charles had a reputation for being a very hard man, and Buck said later he expected the cub to get conked right then and there. Instead, Charles cupped the bear in one hand and held up to the light to examine it.
"Why its eyes aren't even open yet," he said. The cub made a crying sound.
"Sounds just like a human baby, don't it?" Buick Said.
"Yeah," Charles said. "It is a cute little devil." He cleared his throat.
"Now, Buck, this is probably something you don't know, but cute is one of nature's devices for preserving its young. It doesn't apply to just animals either. Many a dumb and useless human being has survived and prospered for no other reason than the good luck of being cute. My wife comes to mind.
Not that I think Lucy is dumb and useless, mind you. What I'm saying is, she
would never forgive me if she heard I did the sensible thing and disposed of
something this cute. All I can do, if I want a minute's peace ever again, is
to take the cub home and let Lucy deal with it. That's the only reason I
don't conk it right now, you understand. So I guess you know what to tell
the men about this."
"It's your wife's fault?"
"That's the way I see it, Buck."
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