What I’m reading: A whole ton of magazines that have piled up, including the recent issues of Monocle, New York, Foreign Affairs, the Atlantic, Harvard Business Review, and Fantastic Man. Not Montaigne, which is why there’s no Monday Morning Montaigne this week. Sorry. I know you were looking forward to it.
What I’m drinking: Stella Artois . . . and my first G&T since Sept. 26! It was eh!
What Rufus is up to: Convincing more of my coworkers to adopt retired racing greyhounds! Another trek up to Wawayanda state park! Developing some sort of fatty tumor on the “elbow” of his left foreleg! (probably not serious, but I’ll take him down to the vet this week to check)
Where I’m going: Maybe to the Cowboys/Giants game next Sunday!
What I’m happy about: One of my mom’s pals, whom I haven’t seen since I was around 13, recognized me and called me over while I was out walking Rufus. We had a nice chat. Okay, actually, I’m not happy about this so much as I am weirded out. I mean, one of mom’s friends didn’t know who I was last month when I actually told her my name (despite the fact that I wrote her daughter’s college application essay), until I said, “Miriam’s son,” so the fact that I was identified this one â€” whom I haven’t seen since around 1984 when I was part of the Dungeons & Dragons gang that played in her basement â€” is frankly bizarre.
What I’m sad about: Fantastic Man doesn’t put its articles online. Otherwise, I’d link to some neat interviews with Fergus Henderson and Tyler Brule, as well as a funny piece on Karl Lagerfeld’s mysterious Chanel menswear line.
What I’m pondering: I find most “acclaimed” contemporary novels start out strong but get mighty dull. Is that a sign that these writers blow their creative load early on, or that my attention span is for crap?