Told with rawness, honesty, and no shortage of wry humor and artful pranks, Adam Harris chronicles the grueling and perilous two years he spent as a fuse setter in the US Army during the Cold War, from 1984 to 1986.
Adam Harris resides in the northeast of Ontario, Canada, way above the line of latitude where most in North America live, in a town so small that during the sixty seconds it takes to pass through, one would be forgiven for not noticing the one and only traffic light (which stays green all the time). Too remote for a mailman, the post office where he picks up his mail also sells hunting licenses and shares its roof with the bait shop. His closest neighbor is a chipmunk whose precociousness is matched only by his cuteness and gluttony for nuts. Far less welcome, and fortunately far more timid, are the bears that seem to spontaneously spring from the surrounding forests. With degrees in dietetics, nutrition, food science, and the culinary arts, as well as a background in restaurant work, Adam sees the world through food-colored glasses. The first question he asks himself every day is, "What's for breakfast?" followed shortly by "What's for dinner?" He started cooking at an early age and feels grateful to be able to prep and serve pretty much anything he wants from his favorite restaurant: his own kitchen. Parts of Adam's resume read like something out of a Dickens' novel--mapmaker, cannon crewman, chimney sweep--while others range from ditch digger to Le Cordon Bleu assistant chef to senior consumer scientist. He's spent most of his life working abroad and is now happy to be home spending his days building furniture and tinkering with his model ships. And maybe, just maybe, if plied with enough whisky, he'll tell some more stories.
