Perishable

January 23, 2006
At first glance, it appears Jamison's 1970s Southern California childhood was an unending disaster. His father searched garbage Dumpsters for food, spouting anticapitalist rhetoric. His overweight Mormon mother tranquilized herself with boxes of cupcakes and long telephone conversations with her sisters in Utah. His older sister beat him bloody when she wasn't brooding and planning her escape from the madness. Yet Jamison tells the outlandish story with such grace, humor and style that it feels almost normal. His father, declaring himself "Aark, the Heathen Scavenger," heads out on his first Dumpster diving expedition when Jamison is a boy. His mother looks at Jamison and "gives a long shrug. 'I don't know what he's talking about. I don't know what he means. Where's he going? Do you know what he's talking about?' And so on." Although Jamison, as a boy, was an astute observer of adult life, he's not reflective and doesn't search for any deep psychological underpinning for the craziness around him. Rather, he tells his story with purpose and humanity, letting it illustrate issues surrounding family, truth, compassion and, though it's hard to fathom, beauty.