An offbeat, strangely compelling on-the-road journal by blues singer, Carl Gustafson, who says he doesn't like music, in fact, he prefers silence. (Calling to mind keyboard immortal and eccentric Glenn Gould who he said he didn't like piano music.) Who is Carl Gustafson, you may ask? An iconoclast, a rebel, a provocateur. A flag bearer for human dignity? An Indiana Jones style adventurer, seeker of truth, justice and a better American Way? Yes, yes, certainly. An outsider artist, a Henry Darger working in obscurity on his grand vision for his oversize fabric of life, and wishing to share it? Oh, yes. And mix this in, too: one part Edward Abbey for his meticulous power of observation ("I wish that mankind, rich or poor, could at least plant a single flower or sign their signature upon their life in some distinct way. If they do, I will observe it."), one part Thoreau logging nature notes, one part Kerouac on the road, one part Dylan Thomas raging into the good night, and finally 19th century French composer Hector Berlioz writing his humorous and insightful Evenings in the Orchestra - only this time the orchestra is a blues band. Another part anthropologist Margaret Mead living among the natives, another part Zen Master with his Buddhist acceptance, reluctant or otherwise, of all things around him on any given day, he carefully observes and notates all the minutia around him on any given day, all the while keeping up a conversation with himself, sometimes bemused, sometimes angry, sometimes transcendent. The writing here is paradoxical, maddening, frustrating by turns....and then all at once riveting. You'll see yourself in these pages - that's the riveting - and then, I think you might just see the prospect of your better self, too. That's the magical. (Sample chapters, blurbs, table of contents, more at http: //sarkett.com/showtime.)