After a trip home for the Fourth of July, Joe Smith and his two brothers are on their way back to their construction jobs in Roswell, New Mexico when they run out of gas on a seldom-used oil lease road. The night is pitch-black. They get out of Joe's new 1947 Ford and start walking. They want to find some gasoline or a telephone. Instead they find the adventure of a life time.

A hundred years or so ago, kids growing up in St. Andrews, Scotland, kids like Bill Kilpatrick’s father, took to golf as naturally as to breathing. Accordingly, the prevailing opinion was that any layabout could play golf, whereas a greenkeeper was someone to be reckoned with. And a greenkeeper (a term much preferred to “golf course superintendent”) was what Kilpatrick’s father became. Kilpatrick’s memoir of growing up on golf courses is at once a window on another time—when golf was played mainly with balata balls, hickory shafts, and handmade spoons, mashies, and cleeks—and a ground-level view of what maintaining a golf course meant when artisanship, instinct, and experience carried the day. A charming narrative of a boy’s relationship with his adored, occasionally impatient, and always forgiving father, Brassies, Mashies, and Bootleg Scotch takes us to some of the most notable golf clubs in America and introduces us to a delightful cast of characters, from giants of golf history to behind-the-scenes eccentrics to walk-on stars like New York Giants pitcher Hal Schumacher. Readers get a rare glimpse of a vanished world through Kilpatrick’s recollections of the daily routines of his father as a dedicated greenkeeper and of his own experiences as a caddy on the courses that were his family’s way of life.

What does it mean to be an old guy? The shock of becoming an old guy can be devastating, but there is hope. Bill Kilpatrick wrote How to be an Old Guy as a comprehensive guide to life for any guy sixty or older. He also got some help from legendary comedian Sid Caesar, who provides the foreword. Some of the topics covered include sex and marriage, coping with stress, staying tuned in, the loss of a spouse, meeting new people, the pet trap, maintaining health, and losing one's marbles.

Everybody told Leona Bilbrey she looked just like Marilyn Monroe... everybody. And ever since last summer when she got those MM initials tattooed on her rear she had felt it was in the stars that she would be the next Marilyn Monroe. There was only a couple of small problems that had her held back. For one thing, she lived in Muskogee, Oklahoma and it was a good fifteen hundred miles from Hollywood. The other small problem she had was that she had no money. None. But those were minor things as far as she was concerned. She just knew somehow, someway she was going to be the next Marilyn Monroe. She just didn't know how.