Last night I failed to watch Catch 22 for the third time. Over the years I have been in the room while it was on TV twice before, but I was probably reading a book. I only seem to look up when there is some sort of gory injury on the screen. I remember the recurring phrase, help him, help the bombadier.
Last night I watched the beginning, slept through the middle, and then went to hang up some laundry. And it’s such a very good book.
August 17, 2005
Help the Bombadier
Yeah, I read it again recently, after too long a layoff.
Fantastic lines.
It was the book that made me realise I could read “grown up” books (I was 15 at the time). I’ve never re-read it for fear of being let down…
And my “never but almost” was, for a long time, Duel. And what an ace film it is too.
One my favorite books, but the scenes are too gruesome to be nearly as funny as the book is. And without the humor, the book is downright depressing.
I know, I tried reading while serving in Vietnam.