1. It's been a long time since I've performed at the Bowery Poetry Club
. I'll be doing a quick happy-hour show at 6:30 pm next Thursday, September 20, arranged by Long Island poet George Wallace
and also featuring Donald Lev, Barbara Southard and Elliot Pepper on bongo drums. There's a $6 cover charge, but it'll be worth it. I'll be doing a fast fifteen minutes, and I may even have a special guest (if you read the litblogs, it's someone I bet you know and love) jump onstage with me for a bombastic duet.
2. Okay, so. My entire life I've been going to Mets games, and all these years I've watched foul balls go to the right of me, to the left of me, below me, above me. When I was a kid I brought my mitt to Shea Stadium; now I don't carry a mitt but I'm always ready. Even though I never thought it would happen.
Well, I took Daniel to Monday night's game against the Atlanta Braves, and Yunel Escobar hit a tall foul ball off Oliver Perez's pitch that went way above our heads and bounced off the mezzanine wall. The ball then baubled down the loge level, hopping from one set of clutching fingers to another, till it fell again to our level, the field boxes, and rolled under a row of seats where Daniel dove for it, elbowed a few people out of the way, and grabbed the ball, as he tells it, from between the shoes of a guy who was trying to grip it with his feet. So, yeah. We got the ball
. And the Mets won, 3-2.
3. It's the Brooklyn Book Festival!
I had a nice time last year
and I expect I will again this Sunday, September 18.
4. Sarah Weinman, longtime half of my favorite dynamic duo over at Galley Cat, has written a poignant farewell
. But somehow I think we'll be reading more of her, not less, in years to come.
5. Matthew Bruccoli's analysis of the errors in Fitzgerald's Great Gatsby
is fascinating (via Newton
). But I am disturbed by the idea that editors might doubt even for a moment that, when Fitzgerald creates a character named Biloxi who is from "Biloxi, Tennessee", that geographic absurdity is a joke and not a mistake. How could anyone possibly imagine otherwise? Fitzgerald's sweet tones should not hide his natural acerbic irony. This is the writer who told us with a straight face about a diamond the size of the Ritz, after all.
6. Chad Post and Mark Binelli are in the middle of a lively chat about George Simenon's The Engagement
at Words Without Borders
7. I like Ed Champion's writing best when he gets philosophical
is really cute.
9. Scott Esposito asks
: Kanye or 50? Mr. Esposito, the answer is Kanye. And I say this as a person who admired the hell out of 50 Cent's first album, Get Rich or Die Tryin'
. That CD was a novel
. Listen to it cover to cover and see what I mean. But his new and third CD Curtis Jackson
is even worse than his second. The beats on "Straight to the Bank" and "I Get Money" are terrible, and the lyrics are even worse. Yeah, 50, you got a Ferrari, it's not that exciting anymore.
Kanye West, on the other hand, has never served up a stale dish of anything. He's a satirist, a wordsmith, and his new CD Graduation
is as fresh as tomorrow's newspaper. Here's your sample Kanye West lyric of the day: don't ever fix your lips like collagen
then say something where you gonna end up apolog'ing
I remember when 50 Cent's rhymes made me laugh like that.