Rating: 
Summary: Flags, Fizzles
Review: A cute idea, with several hilarious interludes, but a bit shop worn by the end of the book, which reads more like a patched together series of essays. Just as Queenan notes his disappointment at schlock that isn't really bad enough, I must register my disappointment at passages that don't sizzle enough or tiresome redundancies. He seems funniest with the quick character sketch or the telling detail (Joan Collins and Liza Manelli are pilloried with gusto and great comic timing.) Queenan is less impressive with his much repeated and exaggerated persona--the guy who's gone to the depths of banality as he goes a-swimming in the soup that is bland American pop culture. We get it, Joe, this was a Herculean task, but stick with character barbs. The low-lifes around Atlantic City gaming tables; the various "Kenny's", Rachel Welch. A good book, but long by one-half. For my money, I think "Balsamic Dreams," Queenan's roast of Baby Boombers of a certain counter-culture turn now turned mainstream, is much better.
Rating:
Summary: A worthy cause, misses the greater point.
Review: I picked up Queenan's "Red Lobster" book after hearing a favorable review on NPR and was thrilled to discover that someone was finally willing to expose the utter classlessness of the staples of "unculturalized" Americans. And they are all here - Red Lobster, The Olive Garden, Kenny G, Robert James Waller, Stephen King, et al. Queenan observes in a most deft manner how these sacred cows achieve success not my being excellent, but by appearing to be excellent. In short, they sell it and there's always a fool to buy it.
It's a worthy endeavor because let's face it - Kenny G is NOT jazz. Not even smooth jazz. Andrew Lloyd Webber IS incredibly overrated. The Olive Garden is not a "fancy restaurant" no matter how much your Aunt Meg dresses up before you take her there. And the main problem is not the entities themselves, but the fact that most Americans ALLOW this continued celebration mediocrity due to sheer laziness. In truth, every twenty or thirty-something female who tearfully devoured "The Bridges of Madison County" probably never bothered to pick up a copy of "Madame Bovary." If she had, she would certainly see that she'd been ripped off by a hack.
Of course, some of this comes down to simple opinion. As Queenan criticizes Rush (the band, not the talk-show idiot), he admits to not even being able to remember a single Rush song - and loses a little credibility for taking an easy stab at art rock. But upon finishing "Red Lobster," I was disappointed on two levels. One, for all his cultural snobbishness, Queenan never once sells his side of the equation. What is so much better about HIS tastes, other than the fact that they help him perpetuate the appearance of a refined New Yorker? There's not a hint. Two, in his observations, Queenan seems completely lost on the concept of guilty pleasures. I consider myself a fairly intelligent guy, but I also have those moments when I listen to Kiss and watch an episode of Hawaii 5-0. Why not? It doesn't define me, but boy is it ever entertaining!
That said, this is a good read, especially for anyone who had to suffer through a single note from Yanni in any circumstance.
Rating:
Summary: Not a bad read, but just average.
Review: I liked the first half of this book. I liked parts of the second half of the book. I just wish that it had gone a bit deeper then the "I saw this awful show/play/movie and it was bad...." approach. The latter chapters of the book, in my mind, could best be described as more of the same.
I did find the book to be at times laugh out loud funny and I generally agreed with his observations about the general dirth of real culture in much of what passes for entertainment. But, ripping Branson for lack of culture is an easy lay-up. Same with John Tesh, much of Vegas, and the people who think Red Lobster qualifies as a fine dining establishment. (I did laugh out loud at his commentary on the looks he got for wearing shorts and t-shirt to the Red Lobster.)
The book as it was written was average. There are enough parts that are funny to overcome a little drag at the end. For that reason, I'd recommend it's worth a read, and a quick read at that, for those who simply don't understand the popularity of authors like VC Andrews (my favorite section of the book) and what passes as popular music. What could have made the book a bit stronger, in my opinion, is some perspective on these shows/concerts/movies from the people who seemingly enjoy it.
Perhaps he could have even added a bit of history on our countries cultural evolution. I for one would have liked to understand how we've reached a point where PBS would view a John Tesh concert as a major fundraising broadcast.
Rating:
Summary: Flags, Fizzles
Review: When I first read Joe Queenan, I thought he was about the funniest writer on the planet. He is still very funny and very talented, but his shtick can get just a bit old, and fast.This book started as an article, and if you can, I would track that article down and save yourself the money and the time it takes to read this very slim yet somehow plodding hatchet job on anything popular for Middle America. This subject was stinging and hilarious as an article, running the perfect length and not overstaying its venomous welcome. But as the book drags on, Queenan is so relentless with his targets that the reader feels a backlash coming. Sometimes it seems like the mere mention of "Tony Orlando" or "Phil Collins" is supposed to be enough to make you laugh and understand how disgruntled Queenan is. And simply the word "suck" is used and used again to describe everything Queenan doesn't like. Okay, Joe, we get it. It's a bit tired to read page after page of insulting "middle American huckleberries", etc. I guess if people are not as fortunate, intelligent, or rich as Queenan, they're more or less despicable cretins to be mocked by the admitted "cultural effete". Another problem is that many of Queenan's references are either already outdated or beyond obvious. The entertainment industry does the job for him when cheap targets like Steve Guttenberg or Joe Piscopo are chewed up and spit out by the industry itself once it has no use for them. The vast majority of figures like this really do wind up just going away, and why? Because the audiences--the middle Americans Queenan loves ripping to make himself sound smarter--disgard their product. Queenan's biggest problem is with crap that poses as art, and he even admits that certain cheese is not so bad, as long as it's aware that it's cheese (as he discovers that Manilow is a good entertainer, if a cheeseball). However, I did find it a bit nauseating when our intrepid author, who has immersed himself in popular culture and become addicted, needs to take a trip to France to cleanse himself and rediscover real beauty and culture. Can you say vomit? It's very, very funny at times, and the index is hilarious. I wouldn't pay much for this book again; you may be able to track his rants down online.
Rating: 
Summary: Funniest Humor Book I Have Read in Years
Review: Besides pointing out the ridiculousness of American pop culture,what Makes Red Lobster, White Trash, and the Blue Lagoon so funny is that Joe Queenan is a fine writer, witty and creative. How can you not laugh at someone who points out that Garth Brooks songs appear to have been written with "Microsoft's Drugstore Cowboy for Windows 95". I have loaned this book out to five other people, all of who thought it was excellent - one quote from a friend was "I laughed my ass off".
Rating:
Summary: From the mediocre to the horrible - one man's journey
Review: Red Lobster, White Trash and the Blue Lagoon, by Joe Queenan, is yet another hilarious book by him. I've loved the other two books by him that I've read, but this one is different. First, it's a whole book rather than a collection of essays. Secondly, it's short, only 188 pages. This surprised me until I actually read it. But it is still just as funny as I know Queenan can be. In this book, he starts on a pop-culture odyssey and has a hard time coming back from it. Unlike Odysseus' odyssey, though, he doesn't have a family (or a wife) waiting for him back home while he journeys. Instead, he drags them along with him, kicking and screaming. He's always been sort of a snob, sneering at various popular items that he wouldn't be caught dead attending or visiting. Everything that he's always loathed from afar, he decides that he must now experience. He's getting bored with his intellectual life, and he wants to see how "the masses" live. So he dives in to the deep end, starting off with seeing "Cats" on Broadway. He's managed to avoid even thinking about it for 14 years, but now he decides he has to see it. It is an eye-opening experience, and one that's just the gateway to the pop culture Hades. Soon, he's listening to Michael Bolton and Kenny G, going to Red Lobster and Taco Bell, and generally becoming one of us. Internally, he's a bit sickened by the whole thing, but soon he becomes addicted to it. He can't live without getting up at 8:00 in the morning for "Starsky & Hutch." His is a journey between Scylla and Charibdis and around the island of the Sirens. He will find himself in dangerous waters, almost dying (well, his brain, anyway). And what a ride it is. Queenan definitely has a way with words. He's also very abrasive and condescending at times, so he's not for everybody. He insults a lot of popular things in this book. If you're like me, you'll find yourself laughing uproariously even when he's going after something you really like. There will be other times when you'll be nodding your head in complete agreement (most likely when he's talking about Michael Bolton). He can be an acquired taste, though, so you may want to leaf through the book before buying it, just to make sure. Don't worry where you leaf to. Wherever you go, he'll be going after something. However, if you find you don't mind this, his style of writing is incredible. It flows very easily and reads very quickly. I read this book in three sessions and it didn't take more than 45 minutes each time (and for me, that's fast). I found myself unable to put it down. Probably the funniest bit in the whole book is when he has a dream about a world-wide conspiracy of morons taking over the world. He thought originally that it was just random, that morons were all over the place but they weren't organized. But then he's drafted to infiltrate the moron brigade and find out what they're planning. His indoctrination (which he's already started by going on this journey) is intense, and his life hinges on his familiarity with the television show "Touched by and Angel." This sequence lasts for about three pages, and it is truly hilarious. Another bit that stands out are his description of seeing "Victor Victoria" on stage three times in a couple months, with three different stars: Julie Andrews, Liza Minnelli and Raquel Welch. Very hideous, but very outrageous. Even his 13-year-old daughter, who he drags to Minnelli's show, knows that something is wrong here. He outdoes himself when he goes to Vegas, though. One of his main themes once he starts down this road is that a number of the things he sees and places he goes to have a certain "scheissenbedauern," or the feeling that something really stinks, but doesn't stink as much as you secretly hoped it would. He finds himself disappointed by the mediocrity of so much that he experiences, when he wanted it to be truly horrible. Vegas was a good example, and he has some really complimentary things to say about Wayne Newton (and Barry Manilow in an earlier section). Too many things are just bad, rather than being mind-blowingly awful. This does not apply to his visit to Branson, Missouri, and this visit almost cures him of his addiction. This is a hilarious book, and watching Joe sink deeper and deeper into the depths of pop culture, to the point where he can't get himself out of it, is very interesting. However, the book does have a couple of shortcomings. Both of these are actually alleviated by mitigating factors or are easily solvable. The first is that the book is so short. This sort of ruins the entertainment value of the book and makes you wonder about spending that kind of money for a 188 page book. However, after reading it, I completely understand. As good as the book is, I don't think it could have supported much more length. The second problem is that the wisecracks and insults of things that you might happen to enjoy (like "Phantom of the Opera" for me) can get a bit old after awhile if you're reading it all in one sitting. The solution for that, though, is to put it down for a little while and take a break. Easily solved. I really enjoyed this book, and this view of popular culture from an "outside" source. If you're in the mood to laugh and you find that Queenan is to your taste, this is another excellent example of his writing. Give it a try. Just take it in smaller doses then usual. David Roy
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