Ideal for singalongs at nursing homes, senior residences or just at your own home. Bound in a loose-leaf binder of durable vinyl, unsnaps for access to pages. (To see a photo of the book, click 
Portrait of a writer
Mike’s Circular File is a potpourri of musings by a 40-something white guy from Chicago — some of them funny, others touching, all touched by a mild cynicism — but what sold me was his MySpace portrait as Mr. Ipanema.
So there’s Mike Pontillo, standing above the beach at Rio de Janeiro, holding what appears to be a guidebook to Brazil. Against a backdrop of surf, sand and sleek sunbathers, the rather endomorphic Pontillo is bundled into a heavy coat, scarf, gloves, ear-flap hat and a pinched expression, all of this accompanied by a caption in Latin that, to the best of my memory of classes in that language 50 years ago in high school, says, “I can’t hear you. There’s a banana stuck in my ear.”
What’s not to like about this happy traveler?
That’s what makes his infrequent entries — only about three dozen dating back to November 1999 — so appealing: They tell you that a 40-something white guy from Chicago, feeling pinched by reality, is still willing to face it on his own terms. A guy on a sun-drenched beach in winter clothes.
Pontillo, a technical analyst with a background in computers, describes himself as a political liberal with a conservative lifestyle, a dichotomy that appears in much of his writing. He was so upset by the 2004 presidential election that he couldn’t write for a while, but he also ranted that same year about a new law signed by the Democratic governor of Illinois giving nursing mothers the right to breast feed in any public place in the state:
In the course of a given day, I have been known to perform several ‘completely natural acts’ of my own. However, most people would object, strenuously, if I insisted on performing those acts in public. (’Lactation Frustration,’ Aug. 16, 2004)
He rails at religious zealots willing to kill, injure or ostracize others for their beliefs, but is put off by a “dirty little secret” among gay men:
There are a lot of really cool things about being gay. Well, except one. Let me explain where I stand on the issue of penetration. Ain’t nobody sticking nothing in me nowhere, no way, no how. So I’m not allowed to be gay. They put you on probation if you only want to pitch. The whole system breaks down if everyone’s a pitcher. Somebody’s got to catch. (’Homosexuality: The Final Solution,’ Feb. 25)
And, oh yes, the only way to hang toilet paper is so that it unrolls from the underside, not the top: “Don’t argue with me. You’re just wrong.” (’Let’s Give It Up for … Lent,’ Feb. 9, 2005)
But among these criticisms of society and culture, most of them rather mild, are some powerful reflections on the human condition.
His first entry, Nov. 8, 1999, an essay on the life and early death of Chicago Bears running back Walter Payton, reaffirms Pontillo’s reasons for giving up Catholicism and his belief in God but not his belief in the goodness of people like Payton, a man known for his charitable work, devotion to family, courage in the face of his illness.
How many suicide bombers do you suppose there would be if they couldn’t be coerced into throwing away their earthly lives for the promise of some kind of paradise in the hereafter? John Lennon posed the question years ago: How would you live your life if there were no heaven? . . . Maybe we would realize that there just isn’t time for selfishness and pettiness. That the only things that outlast us are the impressions we make on others by living this life as well and as fully as we can . . . Maybe if we realized how limited our time really was, we might all live our lives like Walter Payton.
In ‘Unspoken Vows,’ July 25, 2005, a friend whose marriage has failed shares the following thoughts:
Maybe we all had our own extra, unspoken vows . . . Obviously my wife did. Right after the vows we had rehearsed, she added an extra one, ‘Until such time as I decide this relationship no longer meets my needs.’ I just didn’t hear it. Maybe the organ was too loud.
Mine? Yeah, I guess I had one, too. Mine was, ‘With this ring, I hereby abdicate all responsibility for my life and well-being.’
The pain of separation is the theme of the autobiographical ‘Room 219′ (Oct. 19, 2004), and in his latest entry, ‘The D-word’ (Aug. 8), Pontillo talks about his family’s history of divorce, a melancholy essay that concludes with the end of his own marriage.
Mike’s Circular File is the latest addition to our blogroll of well-written sites.
– Sid Leavitt
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