All this talk about Barnes & Noble potentially going private put me in mind of this great SNL bit about the founding of the company (stick with it):
A podcast about books, art & life — not necessarily in that order
All this talk about Barnes & Noble potentially going private put me in mind of this great SNL bit about the founding of the company (stick with it):
What I’m reading: Finished Zot! 1987-1991 (which belatedly gets added to my “comics you can show your girlfriend” canon), read Salinger’s Raise High the Roof Beam Carpenters and Seymour, an Introduction, and started his Nine Stories.
What I’m listening to: A funny conversation between Bill Simmons and SNL’s Bill Hader (lengthy MP3 download here). Here’s an exceedingly silly clip (1 min., mp3) about a rejected SNL skit idea.
What I’m watching: Some NCAA, and Man on Wire.
What I’m drinking: Much of a bottle of white wine on Saturday, but without the sluggishness/headache I usually get from whites. Yay!
What Rufus is up to: Going to the local kiddie-park on Saturday so he could get affection from lots of kids and parents. I realized that made him happier than going to the dog park, where he tends to shun the other do gs and . . . seek out affection from lots of kids and parents. He also bore up to the Sunday-night thunderstorm for a bit, but eventually got freaked out and hid in the guest bedroom for a while. Once the hail started, we were tempted to join him.
Where I’m going: Nowhere!
What I’m happy about: That Man on Wire managed to be even more joyful than the segment in Ric Burns’ New York documentary about Petit’s wire-walk. Here’s my ramble on Petit from a few years ago.
What I’m sad about: A lifelong friend of mine appears to have become totally unhinged. It’s such a textbook-clean snap that I find it more disturbing than if he just started evincing some signs of “strangeness.” I’m hoping it’s just stress/exhaustion, but I don’t want to write more until we get a clearer idea of how he’s doing. It’s just been weighing on me for the past week, the idea that someone can just so utterly break apart in such short order.
What I’m pondering: Why the French get Philippe Petit and America gets Evel Knievel.
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