On My Radar:

The Vapors: A Southern Family, the New York Mob, and the Rise and Fall of Hot Springs, America's Forgotten Capital of Vice
by David Hill
Farrar, Straus and Giroux
Hardcover

From the publisher's website:

Back in the days before Vegas was big, when the Mob was at its peak and neon lights were but a glimmer on the horizon, a little Southern town styled itself as a premier destination for the American leisure class. Hot Springs, Arkansas was home to healing waters, Art Deco splendor, and America’s original national park—as well as horse racing, nearly a dozen illegal casinos, countless backrooms and brothels, and some of the country’s most bald-faced criminals.

Gangsters, gamblers, and gamines: all once flocked to America’s forgotten capital of vice, a place where small-town hustlers and bigtime high-rollers could make their fortunes, and hide from the law. The Vapors is the extraordinary story of three individuals—spanning the golden decades of Hot Springs, from the 1930s through the 1960s—and the lavish casino whose spectacular rise and fall would bring them together before blowing them apart.

Hazel Hill was still a young girl when legendary mobster Owney Madden rolled into town in his convertible, fresh off a crime spree in New York. He quickly established himself as the gentleman Godfather of Hot Springs, cutting barroom deals and buying stakes in the clubs at which Hazel made her living—and drank away her sorrows. Owney’s protégé was Dane Harris, the son of a Cherokee bootlegger who rose through the town’s ranks to become Boss Gambler. It was his idea to build The Vapors, a pleasure palace more spectacular than any the town had ever seen, and an establishment to rival anything on the Vegas Strip or Broadway in sophistication and supercharged glamour.

In this riveting work of forgotten history, native Arkansan David Hill plots the trajectory of everything from organized crime to America’s fraught racial past, examining how a town synonymous with white gangsters supported a burgeoning black middle class. He reveals how the louche underbelly of the South was also home to veterans hospitals and baseball’s spring training grounds, giving rise to everyone from Babe Ruth to President Bill Clinton. Infused with the sights and sounds of America’s entertainment heyday—jazz orchestras and auctioneers, slot machines and suited comedians—The Vapors is an arresting glimpse into a bygone era of American vice.

On My Radar:

Dave Hill Doesn't Live Here Anymore
By Dave Hill
Blue Rider Press
Hardcover

From the publisher's website:

With his signature matter-of-fact humor, comedian and musician Dave Hill explores his increasingly close relationship with his recently widowed father in a series of painfully funny essays you will want to read again and again by the fire, at the beach, in a truck stop men’s room, or just about anywhere. It’s your call, really.

These days, Dave has just the right amount of spare time to write books at home, preferably in his underwear, but things weren’t always perfect. When he found himself pushing thirty while still living with his parents in Cleveland, unsuited for anything but what an “employment expert” vaguely called a career in “art, music, writing, or entertainment,” he decided to visit some friends in New York for the weekend and never left. However, getting his life together wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped, and even an illegally subletted, rent controlled fifth-floor walk-up studio apartment with a (for the most part) working toilet wasn’t glamorous enough to erase the fact that his four siblings were all married with steady jobs and actual human offspring. And in recent years, Dave’s father had grown tired of loaning him cash and living alone in the empty family home, neither of which made much sense to Dave, but whatever.

Through the process of his father’s eventual move to a retirement community, Dave and his dad bonded over the things in life that really matter: scorching-hot rock jams, the gluten allergy craze, eighteen-wheelers, Italian food (pizza and spaghetti), and whatever else could possibly be left after that. Meanwhile, Dave discovered his late-blooming manhood via experiences as disparate and dangerous as a visit to a remote Mexican prison, where he learned that people everywhere love the Eagles, and a martial arts class that pushed his resolve and his groin to their limit. In Dave Hill Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, Hill’s voice is sharp, carefree, laced with just the right amount of profanity, and he is—seemingly despite himself—deeply empathetic as he portrays a difficult time in his family’s life and grows up just enough to realize that maybe he and his dad aren’t so different after all.