Product Description

Liquor cabinets, suntans, clotheslines, childhood, world wars, pianos . . . What do these things have in common? They are all headed the way of the dinosaurs. Children are opting out of childhood, liquor cabinets and pianos have vanished from homes, and unimpressive mini wars are the norm. In Wasn't the Grass Greener?, Barbara Holland shares her sentiments on this deplorable but inevitable outcome, as she moans and groans, wistfully remembers, and sarcastically decries the state of the world today. With a style reminiscent of E.B. White and a wit like Erma Bombeck's, Barbara Holland's short, sharp, and all-original essays are laugh-out-loud funny, whether or not you share her memories. An engaging reminder of the past, Wasn't the Grass Greener? is a straight-up collection of a curmudgeon's complaints with a shot of nostalgia on the side.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #2131399 in Books
• Published on: 1999-06-02
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 256 pages

From Publishers Weekly
"Every silver lining has its cloud... Does running five miles a day prevent or cause heart attacks, and what are the odds of getting hit by a car, and will its driver be saved or killed by the air bag?" In this pointed but lighthearted series of ruminations on the downside of progress, Holland elaborates on the theme she explored in her previous collection, Endangered Pleasures. In 33 brief essays, she nostalgically ponders such extinct pleasures as sitting on the front porchAa practice that has gradually disappered because of indoor air-conditioningAwhich served not only as a way to cool off, but also as a way for lovers to meet or for neighbors to enjoy communal gossip. Holland has fond memories of New York City as a mecca for sin and sophistication and laments the efforts by the current mayor to launder the city into a theme park that's almost as boring as the suburbs. A major culprit in these modern changes are new worries: Holland points out that dire fears of hunger or dying in wartime have given way, in today's relatively secure United States, to an obsessive concern with personal health and safety. Her ruminations on such topics as the loss of leisure time in today's overscheduled childhoods or the decline of the neighborhood tavern as a congenial gathering place will delight fans, as well as those who share the author's reminiscences.
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From Library Journal
In short essays reminiscent of Bailey White's, Holland (Bingo Night at the Fire Hall: The Case for Cows, Orchards, Bake Sales & Fairs, LJ 8/97) considers what modern society has bulldozed along its path to progress. Things like porches, which are definitely not the same as decksAfront porches make socializing with neighbors possible, and sometimes even necessary, while decks grace the back of the house and protect privacy. Things like poetry, which somehow lost the common touch when rhyme went out of style. Or heroes: Holland suggests the possibility of replacing real and therefore fallible ones with an interactive "virtual hero" whose visage will adjust constantly to the vagaries of online opinion polls. The essays are both humorous and serious. Holland does not so much advocate a return to the "good old days" as take a good look at where we are now and seriously contemplate whether or not we truly want to be there. Recommended for all public libraries.AKatherine K. Koenig, Ellis Sch., Pittsburgh
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From The Washington Post
As the miniature essays in this quite engaging book make plain, on the way to the heights of virtuous modernity that we now occupy we lost or abandoned some things that really were better than their paltry substitutes...She loves all the right things, and hates all the right things, too. What more could a reader want?

Customer Reviews

Falling in Love Again . . . with Barbara Holland
As an aging rock star named "Bruce" once sang (famously in his ode to a "Pink Cadillac") -- "Love is bigger than a Honda . . . it's bigger than a Subaru." How much bigger is captured perfectly by Barbara Holland. (Please see end of this review.) Ms Holland is miles ahead of anyone else in reminding us what "true love" once meant.

This book, "Wasn't the Grass Greener? - 33 reasons why life isn't as good as it used to be," provides (I believe) the finest essay ever written on the subject of "Falling in Love." Deservedly, it is twice the length of any other chapter here (14 pages) -- and parked, like a stretch limo, between a little Subaru-of-a-chapter called "Radiators" and a sort of `Civic' titled "Election Night."

Honestly, I can't remember the last time I read a book of essays where each is funnier (and simultaneously more poignant) than the last. My favorites so far (I'm only midway through the book!) include "Suntans," "Old Things," and "Clotheslines." The latter two, read aloud to my wife, left me laughing and crying simultaneously.

After scanning the contents page, I opened the book to "Suntans" (I'm trying to get one, for the same reasons Barbara sings their praises,) Then, I skipped ahead to "Taverns," "Pianos," "Poetry," and "Porches" (not the car -- the house feature that Barbara's grandmother's Washington home had three of).

Moments ago, I read "Falling in Love" -- and I simply couldn't wait to finish the book before writing a review. I believe if Mark Twain were still with us, he would declare Barbara Holland his favorite writer - and agree she is the best "iconoclastic essayist" of the last hundred years.

As an incentive . . . to your purchasing this book (and I'll buy your copy if you don't enjoy it, and give to a loved one for Christmas) . . . some snippets from "Falling in Love."

----

"Last spring the Washington Post sent a reporter to cover the prom of my old high school. They found that tuxedos are still rented, dresses agonized over, bow ties still assembled, and expensive products applied to the hair and skin for the grand occasion, just as in the olden days.

"The news was that fully half of the celebrants came with friends and groups of friends of their own gender. Those with dates were offhand about them; they'd been chosen at the last minute from a pool of classmate possibilities.

"One girl had asked a boy who said yes then changed his mind, claiming that he wanted to be fresh and rested for his SATs the next day. Another girl said she was relieved to have no date because, `You don't have any pressure with friends' . . .

"I graduated from that school. I went to the prom with orchids pinned to my chest, little cream-colored orchids with purple edging. My date was madly, helplessly, desperately in love with me. I too was in love, though with someone else, who loved another. We were all in love.

"The whole school. In love or in recovery, bruised but brave, still carrying a torch, still writing terrible poetry, and poking coins into the jukebox to endlessly replay the ballad we danced to last summer.

"The intensity of our passion was the measure of our worth, and he or she who loved but reasonably was a wingless soul, a poor spiritless clod. . . .

"Male and female alike, we dissected the nature of true love. It was understood that what we called `The Real Thing' would strike only once in a lifetime, and if it misfired or came to grief, the rest of our days would be hardly worth living . . .

"Today I drive past as the local high school is letting out and hundreds of students clot the lawns and sidewalks, some alone, some with a friend, most in chatting groups. Nobody walks with his arm around another; nobody is holding hands . . . and the songs blasting from their car radios don't mention love . . .

"Love improved sex. Even the most unadorned and standardized sex, combined with love, produced a jolt. Currently, to judge from the Internet and specialty shops . . . plain sex is no longer worth doing - and needs a lot of seasoning . . .

(I remember) "T" and I after a sleepless night of love, staggered blearily forth and caught a bus toward our respective offices. The bus was crowded and we were jostled apart in the aisle. Over the shoulders of strangers our eyes briefly connected, and I would have fallen down if I hadn't been wedged in the crowd.

"Various writers have tried to describe this moment, usually by comparing it to a massive jolt of electricity, but that sounds painful. Others mention an explosion of interior light so intense that nothing ever quite looks the same afterwards, but that sounds too passive.

"I have no description to offer. Except that it lasted for perhaps a full second, and in the decades since, I haven't come across anything worth trading it for."

Essays don't get better than this
Surely Barbara Holland is a national treasure. WASN'T THE GRASS GREENER?, subtitled "A Curmudgeon's Fond Memories", is a marvelous collection of essays on subjects ranging from Doctors to Poetry to Radiators and thirty others of varying stripes, all encased in a book bright with wisdom, wryness, nostalgia, irony - gentle and not-so - and an enchanting sense of humor. For the last mentioned, see "Art" and "Sneakers" for starters. Surely neither of these subjects, disparate as they are, will ever be the same again. I've been a Holland fan for years and never has her intelligence and style been more in evidence than in this truly stunning collection.

30 reasons why life isn't really as good as it used to be!
Ever suspect life isn't as good as in the 'good old days'? Maybe you're right! Holland outlines over thirty reasons why life isn't as good as it used to be; from the disappearance of simple pleasures such as home pianos and liquor cabinets and clotheslines to the transformation of a unifying single cultural worry to thousands of daily concerns.