Don’t Call Me a Cab! Call Me a Therapist!

Following in the style of the late Erma Bombeck, his book, outling the sometimes serious, sometimes very humourous trip by a young man to his therapists couch, spouts off about various problems, relatives, friends and best of all, his employment at a community college. The main character, who is never named in the book, nor is the therapist, tells his "doctor" what’s troubling him. He goes on to talk about everything from having relatives which he really can’t deal with, but tries to. His aunt and grandmother are among some of the more humourous characters in the first section of the book, where the aunt is akin to Adolph Hitler and the grandmother wears cooked spaghetti in meat sauce ever so attractively on her head during a visit from her parish priest. Other characters abound in this delightful book of wisdom and insight into what could possibly be a normal, dysfunctional family, but it’s not. The parish priest is a loony, grandmother’s housekeeper is to be believed, and the man’s employer/supervisors are either drunken fools, openly gay or just out and out related to the mob in a mixed web of corruption.