A collection of previously printed light reading (most of the stories appeared first in The Knoxville News-Sentinel or in Waterfowler's World magazine) by journalist Venable, who has been writing about fishing and hunting in Tennessee for 25 years. Its many brief stories detail outdoor lore from the perils of quailing to the benefits of bats, and profile various characters Venable has met over the years. In all, the pieces make up a big love letter to the wild places in his native state. No index. Annotation copyright by Book News, Inc., Portland, OR

As seen through the eyes of Sam Venable, the world is indeed bizarre and filled with nuttiness. The archives of the Knoxville News Sentinel offer ample evidence that Venable is a bit of the former and has made a career out of drawing attention to the latter. For his latest book, Venable has gathered and organized 139 of his newspaper columns—his biggest collection yet—to create a trove of wit and wisdom. In the spirit of “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” he points a finger at human nature, the environment, civil rights and wrongs, and an eclectic mix of other targets, drawing our attention to the foibles, failings, and just plain absurdities that surround us all. As a native son and treasured institution in East Tennessee, Venable has earned the right to poke fun at its local history, habits, and happenings. He takes full, loving advantage of this license in essays such as “How to Tawlk Good,” “Shall We Gather with a Reptile,” and “The Good, the Bad, the Kudzu.” He takes on the government in a section titled “A Two-Ring Circus with Elephants and Donkeys,” and in another called “Still Waiting for Y2K,” he offers up “A Lesson in Dollars and Sense” and “Blowing the Budget for Bowser.” Some have called him a modern-day Mark Twain, others the Dave Barry of Knoxville; but while there may be some similarities, Sam Venable is wonderfully unique. He sees—and sees through—the pervasive silliness and stupidity in our world. It evokes wonder in him, and with many a deft turn of phrase, he interprets that wonder for us. Warning! This Product Contains Nuttiness will make you smile, certainly, but it will also make you think and sometimes even touch your heart.

From "Knoxville News-Sentinel" humor columnist Venable comes a rollicking view of life after 50 that will leave readers laughing and happy to be members of the AARP set.

Hazel Pendley creates heirloom-quality quilts. Ed Ripley wraps bits of fur and feathers into trout flies the size of gnats. Edna Hartong still makes an item that has all but disappeared from the American scene: lye soap. All of these people, and many more like them, are Appalachians who work with their hands. Journalist Sam Venable and photographer Paul Efird spent four years combing the hills and hollows of Southern Appalachia to find these talented individuals and let them talk about their work. Mountain Hands is an intimate look at more than three dozen such craftspeople and their vocations. Venable and Efird encountered folks who pursue popular crafts, such as basketweaving and clockmaking. But they found practitioners of other trades--wallpaper hangers and rail splitters, beekeepers and gravediggers--whose work also depends upon dexterity and upon expressing a distinctive Appalachian way of life. Some are college educated, some can barely read and write; some have lived in these hills all their lives, others have only recently come to call them home. Yet each feels bound to the region through a deep sense of belonging, and each owes at least part of his or her livelihood to handwork. While most of us may think of working with one's hands as entering computer data, these individuals attest to the perseverance--and appeal--of more traditional ways. Mountain Hands is a celebration in words and photographs of gifted people who understand and appreciate the Appalachian heritage--and who live it every day. The Author: A fifth-generation southern Appalachian, Sam Venable is a newspaper columnist whose award-winning observations on daily life appear four times a week in the Knoxville News-Sentinel. A graduate of the University of Tennessee, Venable has spent most of his career roaming the highlands of his home state. He and his wife, Mary Ann, also a Tennessee native and UT graduate, live in a log house atop a wooded ridge on the outskirts of Knoxville. The Photographer: Paul Efird is a native of Rome, Georgia. He holds a degree in biology from Shorter College but has spent his professional career as a news photographer. After working for two newspapers in Georgia, he moved to Tennessee in 1990 and became a staff photographer for the News-Sentinel. Efird is an avid hiker, canoeist, and backpacker. He and his wife, Stephanie, live in Knoxville.

Researchers from international institutions and industries offer 31 papers on COST actions, and aspects of networks and radio systems that can lead to everyone being accessible to everyone all the time anywhere in the world. Among the topics are flexible hybrid multiple access schemes for third-generation mobile radio systems, the status and prospects for personal communications in Japan, cell blocking performance for a dynamic channel allocation technique in future generation mobile satellite systems, decision-directed and non-decision-directed channels state estimators for a slowly fading channel, and a revised analog model for the land mobile satellite channel. No index. Annotation copyright by Book News, Inc., Portland, OR

Sam Venable is a humor columnist for the Knoxville News Sentinel. The winner of numerous writing awards, he is the author of ten books, including Id Rather be Ugly than Stuppid, From Ridgetops to Riverbottoms: A Celebration of the Outdoor Life in Tennessee, and You Gotta Laugh to Keep from Cryin: A Baby Boomer Contemplates Life beyond Fifty.

Two years after Sam Venable became the outdoor editor for the Knoxville News-Sentinel, he began receiving photographs of fish marked with only a phone number and the mysterious words "top-water Hubbard." Curious, Venable called the number and reached Ray Hubbard, a lay preacher, sewing machine repairman, and top-notch bass fisherman. Thus began an extraordinary twenty-seven-year friendship between two men who had little in common but a serious love of fishing and the outdoors. Venable wrote a story about Hubbard for the newspaper and began joining him for more fishing trips. Armed with unusual homemade lures and a friendly smile, Hubbard taught Venable the art of buzzbaiting, the joys of fishing pungent "slop holes," and the secrets of a bass-catching technique Hubbard called "mesmerizing." Soon the two men were subjecting one another to practical jokes and merciless teasing, but according to Venable, attempting to best his buddy was "like trying to argue with the captain of an international championship debating team." They also developed an intricate verbal shorthand for the launch ramps, restaurants, and fishing spots they encountered. Venable soon discovered that the upstanding reverend was not averse to telling an occasional white lie, especially if it protected a prized location or coveted angling secret. Over the years, the size of their catches ceased to matter. Hubbard, a straitlaced country preacher, and Venable, a veteran journalist fluent in the language of the newsroom, simply enjoyed each other's company, overcoming differences in age, educational background, and vocational calling. (It was Hubbard who continually suggested that Venable say "rock-elephant" in place of saltier expressions.) What they experienced together, Venable believes, was best understood by Henry David Thoreau, who observed that "many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after." The Author: Sam Venable is an award-winning columnist for the Knoxville News-Sentinel and a contributor to such publications as Outdoor Life, Sports Afield, and Waterfowler's World. His books include Mountain Hands: A Portrait of Southern Appalachia and From Ridgetops to Riverbottoms: Celebrating the Outdoor Life in Tennessee.

Rivers figure prominently in a nation’s historical memory, and the Volga and Mississippi have special importance in Russian and American cultures. Beginning in the pre-modern world, both rivers served as critical trade routes connecting cultures in an extensive exchange network, while also sustaining populations through their surrounding wetlands and bottomlands. In modern times, “Mother Volga” and the “Father of Waters” became integral parts of national identity, contributing to a sense of Russian and American exceptionalism. Furthermore, both rivers were drafted into service as the means to modernize the nation-state through hydropower and navigation. Despite being forced into submission for modern-day hydrological regimes, the Volga and Mississippi Rivers persist in the collective memory and continue to offer solace, recreation, and sustenance. Through their histories we derive a more nuanced view of human interaction with the environment, which adds another lens to our understanding of the past.