Everyone Leaves Behind a Name

Michael Brick is one of those writers who never leaves your side, and what pleasurable company he provides. In reading this collection of his newspaper and magazine stories from Brooklyn, Houston, and beyond, picture the man. Tall, and lanky, and so proud to be Texan, wearing a brown vest and cowboy boots, his narrow reporter's notebook in his back pocket slapping at his flat ass, as if urging him onward because these blank pages needed filling. Brick's words breathe life into his subjects. Here is Willy, the world-weary lady bartender at a salt-air bar, and all you need to know is that "Her daddy was William, who wanted a son." Here is Minerva Ramirez, aging with Down syndrome, her hair tied in a floral bow, "pretty like Tinkerbell." And Danny Wimprine, a talented quarterback too small for the N.F.L., whose gorgeous touchdown throws for the New Orleans VooDoo arena football team makes women swoon. And Peter Carmine Gaetano Napolitano, the bartender at the Melody Lanes bowling alley in south Brooklyn, wearing suspenders and a red-trimmed cummerbund, "an insurance policy for pants." Brick brings his characters to life, and brings them along with him to the party. Make room for the Coney Island mermaids, wearing green-sequined bras and knocking back Buds. Another round, please. Proceeds from the book will benefit the Brick family.