The Burma-Shave craze reached its zenith during the 1950s, with more than 7,000 signs posted across the United States.

To market Burma-Shave, Allen Odell, an advertising wordsmith, devised the concept of sequential signs to sell his shaving cream. Typically, six signs were erected, with each of the first five containing a line of verse, and the sixth trumpeting the brand name.

Burma-Shave signs appeared in every state except Arizona, Nevada and New Mexico. The creative people at Burma-Shave, as well as customers who sent in jingles of their own, ultimately created more than 600 of the rhymes.

In the world of advertising, Burma-Shave stood as unique, creating signs that became a part of the popular culture.

Although the Burma-Shave company is no more, these fun little rhymes hold great nostalgic value for those of us who fondly remember them from our Sunday drives.

I have always wanted to be a journalist.

Even as a boy, I would get my mother to drive me into town to pick up sheets of newsprint at the local weekly newspaper shop. Back home with these sheets, I would sit at the kitchen table or at the desk in my bedroom, creating newspapers and magazines. I wrote such scintillating prose as, "My grandpa tells me he can't let his sheep get sick. My grandpa says a sick sheep is a dead sheep." In some cases, I would make extra copies of my publications and send them to my aunts and uncles and suggest that they might want to subscribe - at a reasonable rate, of course.

In this inspirational collection, author Michael Larson weaves incredible stories about real people that lead us on a fascinating-sometimes sad, sometimes exhilarating- journey through each of the seasons.

Spring, summer, autumn, and winter provide a vivid backdrop as we meet intriguing people who inject wonder into our lives: a newspaper columnist tells of his fondness for Elysian, a tiny town in southern Minnesota; a grandson remembers life with his grandparents; a young farmer recalls the devotion of a mother to her daughter; and a popular professor of astronomy at the University of Minnesota tells an incredible story about the Star of Bethlehem.

These and other powerful stories provide the backdrop for much of Larson's writing during more than thirty years as a journalist. Through these amazing accounts, Larson believes that you, too, will be convinced of the magic all around us.

Examining one of the most popular and enduring genres of American music, this encyclopedia of classic rock from 1965 to 1975 provides an indispensable resource for cultural historians and music fans. More than movies, literature, television, or theater, rock music set the stage for the cultural shifts that occurred from 1965 to 1975. Led by The Beatles and Bob Dylan, rock became a self-conscious art form during these years, daring to go places unimaginable to earlier rock and roll musicians. The music and outspokenness of classic rock artists inspired and moved the era's social, cultural, and political developments with a power once possessed by authors and playwrights—and influenced many artists in younger generations of rock musicians. This single-volume work tracks the careers of well-known as well as many lesser-known but influential rock artists from the period, providing readers with a handy reference to the music from a critical, groundbreaking period in popular culture and its enduring importance. The book covers rock artists who emerged or came to prominence in the period ranging 1965–1975 and follows their careers through the present. It also specifically defines the term "classic rock" and identifies the criteria that a song must meet in order to be considered as within the genre. While the coverage naturally includes the cultural importance and legacy of most well-known American and British bands of the era, it also addresses the influence of artists from Western and Eastern Europe, Africa, Asia, and Latin America. Readers will grasp how the music of the classic rock era was notably more sophisticated than what preceded it—an artistic peak from which most of contemporary rock has descended.

"An extraordinary accomplishment and an important piece of writing..." Marie Mutsuki Mockett, author of Where the Dead Pause and the Japanese Say Goodbye "MW Larson has made an important contribution to the English-speaking world's understanding of the events in Japan during and after March 11, 2011. Larson's book captures the complexity of what happened: a triple disaster of earthquake, tsunami and nuclear accident that took the lives of almost 20,000 people, and uprooted hundreds of thousands more. Larson gives a textured and compassionate account of those events via the accounts of people who lived through them. He shows a journalist's ability to listen, and a novelist's flair for bringing those stories to life. He also shows an intense concern for the fate of Tohoku, having spent much time himself up in the disaster zone, which shows in his feel for places and the people. The personal connection makes the story all the more compelling, as the disaster has clearly changed Larson's life as well. Well done!" -- Martin Fackler, former Tokyo bureau chief for the New York Times "Vivid and precise and efficient, each line impeccably elegant yet packed with concrete information..." -- Valerie Laken, author of Separate Kingdoms and Dream House Larson follows the lives of a hairdresser, a café owner, a cattle rancher, and a nuclear-energy worker from the moment the 2011 tsunami hit Japan's Tohoku region through the subsequent years of recovery, grief, and frustration. In simple, straightforward prose, Larson chronicles their attempts to recover what they had lost despite a government response replete with missed opportunities and predictable missteps.

I have always wanted to be a journalist.

Even as a boy, I would get my mother to drive me into town to pick up sheets of newsprint at the local weekly newspaper shop. Back home with these sheets, I would sit at the kitchen table or at the desk in my bedroom, creating newspapers and magazines. I wrote such scintillating prose as, "My grandpa tells me he can't let his sheep get sick. My grandpa says a sick sheep is a dead sheep." In some cases, I would make extra copies of my publications and send them to my aunts and uncles and suggest that they might want to subscribe - at a reasonable rate, of course.

In this inspirational collection, author Michael Larson weaves incredible stories about real people that lead us on a fascinating-sometimes sad, sometimes exhilarating- journey through each of the seasons.

Spring, summer, autumn, and winter provide a vivid backdrop as we meet intriguing people who inject wonder into our lives: a newspaper columnist tells of his fondness for Elysian, a tiny town in southern Minnesota; a grandson remembers life with his grandparents; a young farmer recalls the devotion of a mother to her daughter; and a popular professor of astronomy at the University of Minnesota tells an incredible story about the Star of Bethlehem.

These and other powerful stories provide the backdrop for much of Larson's writing during more than thirty years as a journalist. Through these amazing accounts, Larson believes that you, too, will be convinced of the magic all around us.

The Burma-Shave craze reached its zenith during the 1950s, with more than 7,000 signs posted across the United States.

To market Burma-Shave, Allen Odell, an advertising wordsmith, devised the concept of sequential signs to sell his shaving cream. Typically, six signs were erected, with each of the first five containing a line of verse, and the sixth trumpeting the brand name.

Burma-Shave signs appeared in every state except Arizona, Nevada and New Mexico. The creative people at Burma-Shave, as well as customers who sent in jingles of their own, ultimately created more than 600 of the rhymes.

In the world of advertising, Burma-Shave stood as unique, creating signs that became a part of the popular culture.

Although the Burma-Shave company is no more, these fun little rhymes hold great nostalgic value for those of us who fondly remember them from our Sunday drives.