Robert L. Haught
Paul Harvey was so amused by this book, he told his vast listening audience about it. (Friday, December 1, 2006 noon broadcast)
What others say about Now, I'm No Expert:
... a delightful collection ... written with the wit and charm that only could come from a lifetime of dealing with life's little atrocities. - Sheila Moss, editor of SouthernHumorists.com
Haught's gentle humor shines through each page. - Dennie Hall, Book Editor, The Oklahoman
It is WONDERFUL - simply written, amusing, informative ... - Suzette Standring, Boston area writer
Now, about the book ...
Do cats absorb wisdom by sitting on newspapers? Are all dogs as dumb as Dave Barry's? Do you ever wonder why video tapes are so hard to open? What do men need to know about grocery shopping? How can a bumblebee fly? Who did a scientific study of belly button lint? Where's the place to get the perfect haircut?
You’ll find answers to these and other vital questions between the covers of “Now, I’m No Expert” … and you’ll get some chuckles from observations on some of life’s mysteries by a newspaper columnist and former editorial writer who has opinions on just about everything under the sun.
This writer can find humor in eye surgery and grocery shopping, motor trips and retirement, even obituaries.
With cartoon illustrations by the author, this book includes admissions of inexpertness on Cats, Dogs, Body Art, Money, Telephones, Jobs, Perfume, Beards, Gardening, Toilets, TV Ratings, Baby Names, Gambling, Music, Dieting, Fashion, Men, Weddings, and much more.
Enjoy a welcome escape from the heavy headlines, a moment to smile about things that bug us from time to time.
“I strongly believe in the power of laughter to relieve the anxiety and strain of these stressful times.” - Robert L. Haught
Robert L. Haught is a former UPI correspondent who took a detour into government and politics until he could afford to return to journalism.
Haught served as a top aide to two governors and two U.S. senators. He drew on that experience for a column, “Potomac Junction”, while he was a Washington-based editorial writer for The Oklahoman. In 2003, he began writing “Now I’m No Expert”, a self-syndicated column. He was inducted into the Oklahoma Journalism Hall of Fame in 2001.
His writings have appeared in publications ranging from the Perry (Okla.) Daily Journal to The New York Times, from the Sunbelt Monthly newsletter to the Congressional Record, and on the Internet at JewishWorldReview.com.
As a member of the National Society for Newspaper Columnists, Haught created the Will Rogers Humanitarian Award, recognizing a columnist for community service. He organized the 2007 Will Rogers Writers’ Workshop in Oklahoma City. He has been newsletter editor, secretary and board member of the NSNC. He also belongs to the National Conference of Editorial Writers.
Haught is a veteran, Presbyterian elder and University of Oklahoma sports fan.
He and his wife, Mary, live on a 40-acre farm in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia – just about the right distance from Washington.
NOW I’M NO EXPERT on body art. Call me an old fogey, but I find it hard to understand why a kid who will do anything to avoid getting a vaccination will eagerly march to a tattoo parlor and endure the pain of a thousand needle pricks – or however many it takes to get that special design imprinted on a selected portion of the anatomy.
Tattooing is one of the oldest forms of body art – or “body modification” as some prefer to call it. It’s the kind of thing a sailor going ashore might do after a night of bar-hopping. It’s not the sort of foolhardy act a parent could ever imagine a teen-age son or daughter committing.
Why is it that a young lady will go to great lengths to rid her face of every single solitary blemish, then decide a multi-colored insect on her cheek would look very nice. The same applies to an adolescent male with acne who yearns for a smooth complexion but voluntarily subjects himself to the most outrageous kind of disfigurement.
Many young people live to regret their impulsive actions. A bride who wants to wear a strapless wedding gown will find it costs three times as much to get that etching of Madonna removed from her shoulder as the tattoo artist charged to put it there.
If a series of costly laser removal treatments is not an option, picture Heather and Brittany not too many years from now sharing a room at a nursing home and comparing tattoos along with pictures of their grandchildren.
And then there’s body piercing. Not too long ago – or so it seems to me – it was considered a bold move when a girl chose to have her ears pierced so she could wear a wider variety of earrings. Now it’s not all that uncommon to see both girls and boys adorned with jewelry not only in their ears but in their noses, tongues and other parts of the face. Even a fish has enough brainpower not to gouge itself with sharp metal on purpose.
As for inserting metal in the flesh anywhere below the neck, that ought to be permitted only as a necessary surgical procedure.
What I’d like to know is how some of these walking junk heaps avoid being attacked by a swarm of refrigerator magnets. And how do they ever get through airport security?
Face and body painting is the least drastic and most temporary form of body art, but it also can be carried to extremes. The little girl who couldn’t wait to sneak into her mother’s makeup and smear lipstick, rouge and mascara all over her face now parades around looking as garish as a billboard. Some boys with a desire for body decoration grew up to be rock band musicians.
Defenders of body art say it’s all about individuality. But when everybody’s doing it, that argument is about as meaningless as eye shadow on an owl.
