Austinist Book Review: I am an idiot by Craig McCullough

Whether they were “totally wasted” themselves or dealing with someone who was, most Americans have a point of reference for a good drunk story. Through random circumstance and virtue of being Craig McCullough, the typical drunk story becomes is a completely different animal in I am an idiot:

One cannot gaze at the picture and feel the fear of a guy who was just trying to protect his manhood from a she-male, but suddenly found himself considering the reality that he may die by electrocution in some Mexican bar that is classless to the point of having a dirt mixture over its floors to help soak up the vomit of underage vacationers from Tulsa Oklafuckinghoma. It was an unnerving predicament and the photo does not do it proper justice.

This is just one instance of many, but it’s not just about drinking to the point of unknowingly rolling in German sewage prior to a transatlantic flight or vomiting in a highly coveted trinket.

The first third of the book gives an idea of where the author is from. Geographically speaking, it’s Houston and McCullough’s Houston is not a particularly pleasant place. Intimations of Larceny and actual gunshots pepper the final two Houston-based chapters, “Landscaping is Highly Superfluous” and “Junk Food Produces Unwanted Baggage.”

These two chapters, which are probably the most deftly written and thoughtfully understated chapters in the book, serve as an important transition in I am an idiot. It can be inferred, despite the alcohol fueled depravity of the later chapters, that this is McCullough at his lowest. Thus, moving to Austin can only be seen as an improvement. In reality, it's a logical conclusion reached by many Houston ex-pats now residing in Austin.

I am an idiot expresses personal growth realistically. McCullough shows it to be an arduous process that occurs slowly and may never reach a definitive conclusion. The recurring themes of stumbling inebriation and feces give way to the simple truths that aren’t necessarily mind-blowing, but enough to sustain us in an uncertain world:

When I woke up late the next morning, I recalled the wild moments that occurred in my mind the night before. I remembered them as more funny than horrific. As more life-affirming than downright stupid. More a positive experience than the pointless wanderings of a brazen idiot...[t]hankful, as I always should be, that I am still allowed to be here. Even if my only purpose is to illustrate what bad ideas look like on normal people.

Or, more simply, you may take solace that these are practices you aren’t engaging in.

Many of the qualities that endear McCullough to fans of his weekly column are present in I am an idiot, but certain fundamental elements of the book -its content, its message- will appeal to a broader audience. For the casual reader, I am an idiot is the perfect compliment to any bathroom library or coffee table collection. Without page numbers -which “only promote shitty reading habits”- the book is given to be picked up and perused at random. When read seriously as a whole, I am an idiot is a telling example of -and guide to- the profundity available to us in everyday life. With stories soaked in alcohol and prose that is often poo-centric, I am an idiot entertains and, yes, enlightens.

Photo by Matt Wright on flickr