At the turn from our bedroom hallway, there is an old full-length mirror in a wooden frame. I can't help but catch a glimpse of myself. Turning fully toward the glass, I consider what I see. This reflected version of myself, wet, shaking, rumpled, pinched, and slightly stooped, would be alarming were it not for the self-satisfied expression pasted across my face. I would ask “What are you smiling about?" answer: "It just gets better from here."
This is the follow-up to Fox‘s previous memoir, Lucky Man, which I read just a few weeks ago. While this one was good and I love hearing him read his own books, I have to admit that I liked the first one better. This one was a little drier in parts and slow moving early on, but it picked up in the second half.
Michael J. Fox seems to be a really decent man. He doesn't come across as preaching or seems to have the attitude of "I'm better than you" or "Woe is me, feel sorry for me." So that made the reading of this book much easier. An interesting autobiography from a seemingly down to earth man who has gone through a lot and has seen the silver lining.
Utterly unrelatable, the glass of Fox's second memoir is still over half full. Great family, great job, great foundation, horrible incurable disease. He mentions wallowing a few times, may have made for more interesting read. Wish PD was gone already, thanks for your work on that MJF.