Neil Armstrong Is My Uncle & Other Lies Muscle Man McGinty Told Me

by Nan Marino Narrated by Emily Bauer

Overview

Muscle Man McGinty has finally done the unthinkable. He's bragged that he can beat the ENTIRE block in a game of kickball. On Ramble Street, tough talk about kickball cannot be ignored. For Tamara Ann Simpson, however, this is great news. Now she'll finally be able to prove to everyone what a wormy little liar Muscle Man really is.

It's the summer of 1969, and the world is getting ready to watch a man named Neil Armstrong make history by taking the first step on the moon. But change happens a bit more slowly on Ramble Street, and it'll take one giant leap for Tamara to understand the likes of Muscle Man McGinty.

“Nan Marino may be a debut author, but she's obviously a born storyteller. You will immediately feel at home with her characters, you'll ache right along with them, and you won't be able to leave their stories behind.” - Patricia Reilly Giff

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

It's July 1969 and while the attention of everyone else in her Long Island neighborhood is on the impending moonwalk, Tamara Ann Simpson's focus is the black hole created by the sudden departure of her best friend, Kebsie, a foster child who lived across the street. She directs her considerable anger at Douglas McGinty, the new foster kid, whom she ironically dubs "Muscle Man." In her self-absorbed grief, Tammy fails to see that the whoppers Douglas tells-he's training for the 1972 Olympics, he's sung on Broadway-are his way of coping with a major loss of his own. "Muscle Man McGinty is a squirrelly runt, a lying snake, and a pitiful excuse for a ten-year old," Tammy's narration begins. "The problem is.... only I can see him for what he really is." Indeed, among the well-realized cast of scruffy neighborhood pals, no one joins Tammy's campaign to unmask Muscle Man as a phony. But author Marino, in her debut, pulls off the neat trick of having created a sullen, feisty protagonist who is worthy of redemption. Ages 8-12.
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School Library Journal

Gr 4-6

Tammy is alone. No one else on her block sees through the lies 10-year-old Muscle Man McGinty, a foster child, tells them, her best friend moved away without saying a word, her brother left for college, and his best friend was sent to Vietnam. When Muscle Man declares he can single-handedly beat the entire neighborhood in kickball, Tammy looks forward to trouncing him unmercifully. But the ground keeps shifting under her feet, and it's only when Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walk on the Moon that anything begins making sense again. Set in the summer of 1969, Marino's first novel moves with a sometimes-humorous, conflict-driven plot. Some of the characterizations aren't particularly original-tomboyish Tammy can't stand her bossy-girly neighbor while her hardworking, tie-wearing father can't be in the same room with budding-hippie Tim. Still, Marino paints a detailed portrait of the seeming gulf that surrounds a person after loss and the surprising companionship one discovers in the face of desolation.-Bethany Isaacson, Wheaton Regional Library, Silver Spring, MD

Kirkus Reviews

It's the summer of 1969, when astronauts land on the moon, and Tamara Ann Simpson is not having a good time. Foster child and best friend Kebsie has suddenly moved away and now Douglas McGinty is in her spot with Mrs. Kutchner. Tammy dubs him "Muscle Man" after one outrageous lie, determined to give him his comeuppance in front of the whole gang. Fierce and plaintive, Tammy's voice crackles with originality and yet is completely childlike. The '60s setting comes to life with sharply honed details like kickball games, ice-cream trucks, soap operas, references to "the man" and the loss of life to the Vietnamese war. The authenticity of the time and the voice combine with a poignant plot to reveal a depth unusual in such a straightforward first-person narrative. Showing a neighborhood still webbed together by typical daily contact, the characters are individually distinct and real. Also real is the fact that Tammy's tenacity is never fully appreciated, even as she softens her principles and becomes slightly more understanding than seemed possible in the beginning. (Historical fiction. 8-12)

Product Details

BN ID:	2940169701227
Publisher:	Brilliance Audio
Publication date:	05/12/2009
Edition description:	Unabridged
Age Range:	8 - 11 Years

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

The Blizzard of ’69

MUSCLE MAN MCGINTY is a squirrelly runt, a lying snake, and a pitiful excuse for a ten-year-old. The problem is that no one on Ramble Street knows it but me. In the entire town of Massapequa Park, only I see him for what he really is. A phony.

Knowing the truth when others fail to see it is hard on a person. That’s because the truth has a way of seeping under your skin and wrapping itself around you, like a coiled-up Slinky.

You know that tinny sound a Slinky makes? Shink. Shink. Shink.

Sometimes I hear it creeping around inside my brain. The closer I get to Muscle Man, the louder it gets. When he’s standing right next to me spewing out his whoppers, that Slinky inside me goes crazy.

SHINK! SHINK! SHINK! You can only imagine my headaches. I’ve even named the really big ones "Muscle Men" after the cause of all my problems.

Personally, I think it’s funny to name your pain, but the others on Ramble Street never get my humor. Even Big Danny, who can laugh at dead teacher jokes, fails to see the comedy.

"Jeez, Tamara," he huffs. "The kid only moved here a few weeks ago. Can’t you give him a break?" He kicks his foot at the side of the curb.

"Jeez yourself," is all I think of saying back.

Big Danny turns his back on me, and I turn my back on him. We are both standing at the corner of Ramble Street, each one staring in the opposite direction. Neither one of us will give up our spot on the sidewalk because the ice cream truck is about to come around for the first time this season.

It is an important day. Ice cream trucks mean summer is here. No more having Mrs. Webber,my fifth grade teacher, glaring at me through her spectacles. As far as I’m concerned, ice-cream trucks never come soon enough, and they leave far too early. Their time on Ramble Street is fleeting. And if Big Danny wants to ruin the entire morning by not speaking, that’s fine with me. It’ll be easier to hear the bells without his blabbering.

We wait in stony silence. Every once in a while, I flip my ponytail in his direction just to annoy him.

It’s not until Muscle Man McGinty pulls up on his bicycle that Big Danny starts yapping. All that time, Big Danny had something he was itching to tell. As soon as he sees Muscle Man, he blurts it out.

"I made the swim team!" shouts Big Danny.

"Hey, good for you, Big Guy!" Muscle Man pats him on the back. "Making the swim team is not an easy thing to do."

"Yeah, congratulations," I mumble, not sure if Big Danny is talking to me yet.

"I heard there was a lot of competition," says Muscle Man.

Big Danny grins.

Muscle Man is wormy. He always starts with something nice before he slides into one of his whoppers.

I hold my breath, waiting for what comes next.

"Did I happen to mention I’m training for the Olympics in that same sport?" Muscle Man says.

Sure. And I’m waiting for Captain Kirk to beam me up to the starship Enterprise.

"Every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday morning, I go to the pool and practice." He puffs out his puny chest. "My coach thinks I’ll win a gold medal in seven races. It would be a world record, but I’m hopeful."

"You like to swim?" asks Big Danny, like it’s every day someone announces he’s training for the Olympics.

"Yep. Coach says I’ll be ready for Munich, Germany. That’s where the next games will be." Muscle Man presses his thumb and forefinger so close together they almost touch. "I’m this far away from the world record. All I need to do is work on my flip turn."

Turn, schmurn. First of all, Muscle Man is barely ten, which means that in 1972, when they have the next Olympics, he’ll only be about thirteen. Plus, I’ve never seen him swim. I doubt the kid even owns a bathing suit. World record, my eye. This kid’s got as much chance of going to Munich, Germany, as I have of going to the moon.

"Maybe we could go to the pool together," Big Danny says.

"Yeah, and you can both practice for that world’s record," I say, with disbelief dripping off my every word.

Big Danny catches my tone and sneers at me. At me! Muscle Man sells him a bag of bull and gets nothing, and I get glared at for pointing out the obvious.

I turn away from both of them, pretending to be interested in a group of ants climbing over a half-eaten Tootsie Roll. Neither boy notices. They’re too busy talking about backstrokes and racing dives.

"Of course, no matter how famous I become, I’ll always remember my friends on Ramble Street," says Muscle Man.

The spot above my right temple begins to throb.

Muscle Man puts his arm on Big Danny’s shoulder. "I’ll never forget you, Danny O. And you too, Tamara."

I refuse to even look his way. Instead, I watch a tiny dandelion seed float on the breeze. I catch it before it finds its way to the ground.

"They’ll probably want to put my picture on the Wheaties box," he says.

"Jeez. Give me a break." I throw my hands up in the air. Before I can tell him what I think of his lies, I catch another dandelion seed. Soon, my hands are full of them. A flurry of white surrounds us.

Muscle Man looks around. "Where’s it coming from?"

Big Danny points to my house. "Tammy’s mom."

I glance across the street to where Shirley is wrestling with the dandelions that fill our front lawn. With every pull, she sends up another flurry.

"There must be hundreds of them," says Big Danny.

"Millions," says Muscle Man, which is another lie. I highly doubt there are a million. A hundred thousand, maybe, but not a million.

Shirley yanks harder, and the flurry turns into a blizzard. Like snowflakes, the seeds twist and tumble before they find their way onto the lawns of Ramble Street.

"Cool." Muscle Man cups his hand to catch a seed. Then he jabs at me playfully. "Hey, Tammy. Listen."

I’m about to tell him that he’s got nothing to say that I want to listen to when I realize what he’s talking about.

Bells ring out in the distance. The Mr. Softee song grows louder.

Any second now that truck will turn the corner. Right in the middle of the dandelion blizzard, summer will come to Ramble Street.

Excerpted from Neil Armstrong Is My Uncle by Nan Marino.
Copyright 2009 by Nan Marino.
Published in May 2009 by Roaring Brook Press.
All rights reserved. This work is protected under copyright laws and reproduction is strictly prohibited. Permission to reproduce the material in any manner or medium must be secured from the Publisher.

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