Let me tell you a little bit about where I am from. I don’t usually like to dwell on my geographical beginnings — I prefer to function with the belief that I sprung from a bog somewhere in Arkansas, or a least a place that has palm trees. But no.
I am from Deerfield, IL, aka “Generica.” Deerfield is a place where no one walks outside unless for exercise, the buildings are uniform red brick and there is crusty snow on the ground from October to April. Lexuses swim the streets like little whales and my best friend’s dad is the mayor. It’s Ferris Bueller meets Andy Griffith.
My friend put it perfectly once. “Deerfield is a toilet of drama and greed,” she said.
Yeah, the suburbs. I had a tranquil childhood in Deerfield. I slept on snowman sheets and tended to my dollhouse collection. But I always felt slightly on edge, even if I didn’t realize it. I think there’s something wrong with the place. In the winter, it’s electrically dry. In the summer, the air is so heavy it feels like you’re going to choke.
Two flat tires in 2 days is all I have to say. Must stop riding my bike through glass-filled alleys, as the adage goes. Back to the perm. campaign. And this:
Seated near the stove, he feeds Pupperoni Lean sticks to his black pug, Stuffy, who curls contentedly in his lap; he talks about the path he has traveled. Wieseltier’s conversation is, as billed, a torrent of learned gossip, quick apercus and one-liners dipped in poison.
One of the strangest experiences I ever had was when I was interning at the Texas Observer last year and was told to read through piles of health care memorandums for unspecified reasons. Anyway most of the documents were from California, and midway through the third hundred-page stack I came across a memo on state letterhead. “Arnold Schwarzenegger, Governor,” it stated.
It was the most ridiculous thing I had ever seen. It caused me to float out of my body, exit the office and place myself in the path of oncoming traffic.
I mean, I knew Arnold was the gov of CA, but somehow it didn’t mean anything to me until I saw it in print and realized the magnitude of the situation. Which is huge.
In conclusion, I don’t think I can move to CA. East it is. NY, DC, FL. The three month countdown has begun. Thrilling!*
I was really taken by this slideshow on celebrity kitchens today. Especially Ted Turner’s. I like how freely he admits that it was in part influenced by Jane Fonda. By tiling his entire kitchen in an indirect reference to a past lover, I’m not sure if Turner is preternaturally wise or wistfully immature. Influence is strange — the Olsen twins know. May we all be so up front about it … here goes nothing. This little blog right here was influenced in part by Andrew Sullivan. Henry Alford. There.
This February is really off. It’s like that book that tells you to put zucchini in your kids’ brownies so they eat their vegetables. Maybe it’s because I’ve taken up a bunch of trends post-peak, like Bikram yoga, french-pressed coffee and wearing a Livestrong bracelet. Just kidding about that last one.
I have no idea what to make of any of this. Any astrologers in the audience?
“But I want everybody to know that, no, Svein was not an orphan. He was raised by two loving parents. He had his own room, a trampoline, a motor scooter. But he was just looking for something else.” — “Canadian Rider Has Made Unorthodox Climb to the Top,” The New York Times, Feb. 7
There was a time when I mainly used this blog as a place to slap links to my Daily Texan editorials about youth prisons and border control. I’m sorry for that, blog readers. I was lazy and I was not thinking about you or blogworthy cultural ephemera. But I do feel good about this piece from today’s paper. Never have tuition rates been so captivating!
The poet Ted Kooser once said that flying on an airplane was like “being pushed through time in a metal tube.” I think that’s so apt. I love Ted Kooser. One time I wrote him a really sappy letter about what one of his poems meant to me and he wrote me back and his letter said: “Leah: I did not write that poem. Ted Kooser.”
To be fair the poem had a double signature and his was one of them. In short Ted Kooser is a liar and double bylines are totally illegit.
Oh, and speaking of big gov’t, Texas’ came down on some UT guys yesterday during the Senate Committee on Finance Meeting. Apparently, the chairman and the CEO of UT’s investment management company thought it was completely appropriate to give UT execs million-dollar bonuses during, you know, the worst recession ever (and while tuition continues to rise). For once, they were publicly called out and, in a huffy yet glorious denouement, my third-favorite regent resigned.Robert Rowling, you will be missed.
So who’s to fill R.R.’s empty chair at the regent table? I nominate George Bush. Just kidding!