I'm not hiding out, I'm just short.
Mostly I can be found these days over here, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. But that’s where I/the cultural tidal wave of 2010 are, for now.
A silly bit of self-promo: I am the “Jauntsetter of the Week” for the lovely Dorothy McGivney’s weekly travel newsletter. I think the second installment, which covers New Mexico and all of its enchantments and will be posted next week, might be more bang for your buck, but if you want to read my thoughts on chex mix, duck fat, TCBY, and racing for beer, you can do that here.
[Unbearable not to know the answers. Behind those blank faces on the subway, what?]- Dawn Powell, Turn Magic Wheel
alexbalk: “HERE now is a new Italian restaurant of the Manhattan old school, built for socialites and those who finance them, staffed by handsome, rakish men with huge wristwatches. It’s the sort of place where in the movie, based on a novel as yet unwritten by Dana Vachon, you might cast Anne Hathaway as the lead and Diane Keaton as her mom. You’re welcome, too. For all this, Casa Lever is a...
They Eat Out-Margaret Atwood In restaurants we argue over which of us will pay for your funeral though the real question is whether or not I will make you immortal. At the moment only I can do it and so I raise the magic fork over the plate of beef fried rice and plunge it into your heart. There is a faint pop, a sizzle and through your own split head you rise up glowing; the ceiling...
I’m kind of psyched about a new year in which the two musical artists most mentioned are a) Boz Scaggs, whose Kermit voice and “Silk Degrees” played a prominent part in not one but two parties in 2010, already, and b) Sade, whose new jam I can’t stop listening to despite the fact that “Smooth Operator” sends me back to a time before leg shaving was required for...