I have a confession...and a book review...to make

I scraped the metal folding chair along the linoleum floor to plop myself down in the circle.  Fifteen eyes (The homeless Santa character across the circle had a glass eye) watched me as I straightened myself up and let out a sigh.  This was gonna be tough.

"Kevin," the moderator said with a hideous, bogus smile.  "Would you like to begin?"

I closed my eyes.  I can't do this!  I thought.  Run!  A voice echoed in the room:  "Please?"

I had to do it.  Without opening my eyes, I stood up.  I couldn't bear to see them laugh, like everyone else.  But I had to get it out.  I had to come to terms with it.

"Hi," I started.  I opened one eye just enough to see their blurry outlines.  No one spoke.  "My name is Kevin," I said.  Still nothing.  I closed my eyes tighter.

I inhaled.  I winced as if someone had a grip on a nasty splinter in my finger and was about to pull.

"...and I'm the victim..."

Another squinty-eyed peek.  Still nothing...

"...of a garden gnome attack..."

Dead silence.  I let out a breath.  And then?

Applause.  The group applauded!  After eighteen months of showing up and saying nothing, I'd done it! I'd admitted and expressed my horrible nightmare.  I felt the weight of the world lifted off my shoulders.

I sat back down, felt the congratulatory claps on my back, and heard the various words of encouragement like "I hear ya, man," or "we're here for ya brother."

Yes.  I was the victim of a horrible garden gnome attack.  I can speak about it now because of my Survivors of Garden Gnome Attacks group (SOGGA).  I can hold my head up high and say with a clear conscious that there is no shame in being brutally beaten by five, grinning clay and porcelain half-pint hellions.  In fact, my survival has become a source of pride.

And I owe it all to one book:  "How to Survive a Garden Gnome Attack: Defend Yourself When the Lawn Warriors Strike (And They Will)" by Chuck Sambuchino.

I read this book not too long ago and found it informative, educational, and funny - yes, it has allowed me to laugh at my own experiences in bush-hidden brutality.  While I still have trouble viewing the horrific pictures (Thank God Chuck was able to get the film from the poor, presumably dead photographer), and I still wake in the middle of the night with the feel of their cold, hard beards on my shins, and the feel of their razor sharp rakes across my back, I know that thanks to Chuck's book, others may not have to suffer the same fate as me.

So please, do yourself a favor.  Get this book.  Protect yourself.  Or else you may find yourself attending a SOGGA meeting yourself...

...if you're lucky...