Bill Bryson expresses his genuine desire to be “suave”. He would love just once in his life time to rise from the dinner table as if he had experienced an “extremely localized seismic event, get into a car without leaving 14 inch coat outride, wear light-coloured trousers without ever discovering at the end of the day that he had at various times and places sat on chewing gum, ice-cream cough syrup and motor oil. No, Bill Bryson was not successful in his mission. Twice he spilled his drinks on a sweet nun who happened to sit next to him. He tried to show off his wisdom to another attractive lady. As usual, he was sucking his pen.
His shirt, teeth and gum carried the unscrubbable navy blue stain for many days. He always did “liquid mischief’. His clumsy behaviour in the aeroplane made the saintly mm use abusive language. To avoid unsuave ways, he gave up air-travel with his family members. His wife and children supported him yet failed to be refined in manners.
‘‘Heroes, well, they don’t live so long. But they ’re too suave, and we all admire them.”
