Category
Ask any rabid television fan: the road to hell is paved with the carcasses of shows that are too out there, too cerebral, too genre, too tiny-demographic-by-way-of-special-interest-esoteric. You could go back as far as Adam’s Rib (a short-lived comedy series starring Blythe Danner and Ken Howard) or Honey West (Anne Francis as a karate-chopping private…
Continue reading
No time for visits or pleasantries with friends. Not meaning to be rude, I am all in my head and heart, completely consumed, driven to record as much as I can before you fade from me. I know this behavior is futile. You are gone and my efforts will not bring you back but somehow…
Continue reading
1) Woke up from a dream involving my ex. I and some friends and strangers found him sprawled on a divan in what seemed an abandoned office building. Like a pieta he was sprawled, and looked the way he had at the end of his life—thin, riddled with Karposi’s sarcoma, listless. 2) No surprise, but…
Continue readingThe week that was ended as it began, with one of those happened-upon moments that are as indigenous to Manhattan as is Mitt Romney to an off-shore banking account: strolling up Broadway near Lincoln Center I was on a cell phone call when I heard the familiar strains of Scott Joplin’s The Entertainer. The tune…
Continue readingThe giveaway happened this morning. It came in the form of a sneeze—several, actually, all so forceful that my coffee flew out of my cup into my face. No burns, only embarrassed, accompanied by NY1’s confirmation of my suspicions: ragweed had launched its ugly spores into the air. Zyrtec, take me away. In this way…
Continue readingFirst Donna Summer, now this. Curious, though, about the album he released this spring, his first toe-dip into classical music called Titanic Requiem. RIP, thanks for enhancing the soundtrack of my youth…
Continue readingAh…love to love ya, baby… RIP, and thanks.
Continue reading“The contract between the author and the reader is a game. And the game . . . is one of the greatest invetions of Western civilization: the game of telling stories, inventing characters, and creating the imaginary paradise of the individual, from whence no one can be expelled because, in a novel, no one owns…
Continue readingIs April the kindest, or the cruelest month? The party line affirms the first: it’s the time of rebirth when saucer magnolias pop their tragic blooms, crocuses and tulips sprout, warm weather hints and Easter descends, toting tales of resurrection. I’m not feeling it, which makes me wonder if I ever have. Chocolate bunnies excepted,…
Continue reading