Friday, October 01, 2004
I Really Was Making An Effort to Be Literate, Like
So I tonight I'm supposed to go to this talk or reading Jonathan Lethem is giving down on Norfolk Street as part of the New Yorker Festival. Lethem's most recent novel, The Fortress of Solitude, was a marvelous book that comes as close as anything I've read to capturing what it was like to grow up in New York City in the bad old years. Dalton Conley's Honky is the only other book that comes close. (Both writers, however, are significantly older than I am, and so their stories take place pre-Crack Era and all its attendant horrors.)
Unfortunately, the good folks at Ticketmaster have lost my tickets so now it looks like its back to the bottle rather than the books. Where are we drinking tonight?
Oh, and tomorrow is New York is Book Country, and they've moved it downtown from its usual lair along Fifth Avenue in midtown. Last year I ended up unintentionally stalking Vendela Vida and unintentionally seducing an NYU Irish Literature professor. Those book people are so funny.
Unfortunately, the good folks at Ticketmaster have lost my tickets so now it looks like its back to the bottle rather than the books. Where are we drinking tonight?
Oh, and tomorrow is New York is Book Country, and they've moved it downtown from its usual lair along Fifth Avenue in midtown. Last year I ended up unintentionally stalking Vendela Vida and unintentionally seducing an NYU Irish Literature professor. Those book people are so funny.
