The Monday Book: HOW TO DISAPPEAR by Frank Ahern

This book called to me from a table at my friend Randy’s bookstore (Oracle Books in Wytheville). I started reading it while waiting for someone and found it fascinating in a narrative sort of way.

Ahern intersperses stories of catches and traces gone right and wrong with how-tos about erasing your digital footprint. I’m not trying to erase my DF, but I was interested in knowledge for character development in some fiction I’ve been toying with.

The canal story is probably the funniest part of the book; I won’t spoil it for you. Let’s just say that a manatee where he didn’t belong led to a whole lot of records burning and boxes flying out windows.

Ahern actually handles the moral dilemma of the work he does well, too. He points out that he doesn’t trace people who haven’t, in his words “done something incredibly dumb or incredibly illegal.” He also tells people being stalked, particularly women with abusive partners, how to not only disappear but leave a trail that would make any missing persons investigator feel sympathy and understand what the pursuit was about.

I like Ahern’s basic style, something not quite trying channel Dashiell Hammett, yet not exactly cozy, either. The book’s practical information on how find out what information is online about you is a wee bit suck-you-in, but the $50 fee will keep most people arm chair reading rather than actively engaged in an erasure.

As Ahern points out, a lot of disappearing is common sense, but some of it is subtle, and unknown to the average citizen. These are the points where you will get tripped up and caught out: relatives who don’t know not to say anything, service providers who cheerfully read off addresses and birthdates to “confirm” them to the person posing as a customer (which tracers often do) and hobby sites online where fake profiles appear about same time as you disappear. It’s astonishing how often those have made people visible, to hear Ahern tell it.

It’s not a book you have to be interested in disappearing to enjoy. Two (invisible) thumbs up for this work.

Curiouser, Curiouser and Back Framing – –

Jack makes it on time for a change – – –

One of my weekly jaunts over the time we’ve been here is the trip to the local recycling center with our garbage. Carefully bagged into different stuff – cans, plastic, cardboard and ordinary trash. When I get there it goes into different dumpsters (skips for my Scottish readers). There’s a rotation of elderly guys who make sure you do it all correctly and help you if you need it. 

They are all very pleasant and chatty and very often interested in my accent, asking ‘where y’all from?’ or ‘y’aint from around here’.

But today was a bit different. I usually take our trusty SUV ‘Angus’ (named because he’s black) because he has plenty of room in the trunk (boot for my Scottish readers). But he was full of stuff Wendy has collected to use for one of her projects, so I used our equally trusty wee red Prius this time.

I drew up as usual between the dumpsters and there was one of my elderly guys who engaged me in the usual conversation – the weather (it was dreich for my Scottish readers), and other pleasantries. Then he asked about the Prius, and I suspected he maybe hadn’t seen one before. He was most interested in its gas mileage (miles per gallon for my Scottish readers).

His final comment was “I’m surprised somebody hasn’t tried to back frame you”. I pondered this for a minute and then gave him the quizzical look I reserve for those occasions. He repeated “I’m surprised somebody hasn’t tried to back frame you”. I gave him the bland neutral look I also reserve for those occasions, offered a cheery wave and drove off. I had pictures in my head of some local big guy in his big truck deliberately nudging the back of our very out of place wee Prius!

But there was a nagging feeling about the times I’d been on the receiving end of those bland neutral looks as I tried to navigate the differences between American English, British English and Scots. So I tried to decipher what he had said to me –

Halfway home it suddenly dawned on me what he actually said, which was “I’m surprised somebody hasn’t tried to buy it from you”.

Yes, well…..