Call Me Chameleon: The Selective Memory Of A Kaleidoscopic-Eyed Globetrotter, From Age 3 To This Day eBook

To write an autobiography is a feat that is difficult, painful, and often feels foreign due to the fact that most of the stories have already been told in various forms through fiction, essays and poetry. In addition, I knew that this was Albert's chance to let it all hang out, so-to-speak. The nice chameleon has its nasty sides -- as we all do -- and some of the anger would be sure to leak out in such a book. (A coming to terms, one might say.) And finally, this project has scared me shitless because here he -- the chameleon -- finally reveals himself (often times through his all-too-frank alter ego Zapinette), and recounts the well-known stories from his travels to and residences in Africa, Israel, Europe and America within a human context. Within a human context ... And why is that scary? Well, fiction is often more believable than truth (read: more acceptable / comfortable than truth / real life). I saw for myself the "bad boy" chameleon, that I learned to know and love personally and in his literature, threatening to rear his beautiful head. Who was I scared for ... the chameleon, or the readers? Honestly? Both ... we are all the chameleon. Albert Russo outs us all in this book. (From Adam Donaldson Powell's Preface)