First, try not to trip over my tongue and the following hyperbole, but Tom Robbins' latest book just knocked out 80% of my holiday shopping. As a writer, the premise and execution of B Is for Beer turns me the darkest shade of green, like no other tome in years. Do I need a dependent clause to describe the author of Jitterbug Perfume and Another Roadside Attraction? Without spoiling a damn thing, Robbins has woven a quick, light tale of a precocious kindergartner, BEER, and of course a world within the world. I'm loving the subtle trend I'm seeing in children's books where parents can be jerks -- i.e., more real. If it's even possible to love this singularly talented local any more, I do.