Upon the death of his father, a Ph.D. psychologist is driven to face his own mortality. In this autobiographical memoir, strange and haunting episodes of his own long life provide clues to the central question, "Who am I?" Joyful surprises abound such as the day when his father, a few years after getting sober, bought four shiny new Chevrolets for the entire family. They alternate with the agonizing surprise when his wife Karla said, "I want a divorce." When he begs for an explanation, she exclaims, "Because you never bought me a microwave oven!"Such moments of pain leavened with unexpected humor set Waking Up Cattywampus apart from other memoirs. In this unflinching examination, the author ponders the effect of being bullied as a child. He examines how, as the oldest of eight children, he coped with his father's alcoholism. He discusses with admirable frankness his successes and his failures. In his search for meaning, the author created what is perhaps the most entertaining part of the book in seven appendices. They include a detailed and well-resourced addendum on the search for identity and how one 's ancestors inflect that search. They include a genealogy boasting illustrious forebears, an extensive bibliography, and a detailed family tree. His "Letter Written to My Younger Self" is a heart-rending missive.Finally, we are treated to "Appendix 7: Fifty-two American Southernisms," in which can be found the fascinating word in the title which may have puzzled some and delighted others: "cattywampus."