OF A GOLDEN AGE

Goldblog linked to this Atlantic interview with genius and notorious rabblerouser Gore Vidal. As much as Vidal waxes hateful, this soundbyte lines up with my belief exactly:

Have you met President Clinton?

Yes – and I like Bill. My family is Southern. I’m used to Bill Clintons. The country apparently wasn’t, though. At the time of his impeachment trial, I wrote a defense of him. When he claimed, “I didn’t have sexual relations with that woman, Ms. Lewinsky,” he was totally accurate.

You believe him?

He was talking Southern. In the South, sex is when you put it in and pump away and there’s a danger of a baby. That’s “sexual relations.” Anything else is what we called in school “messing around.” And all Southern boys messed around.

Moreover, I don’t give a crud about the President’s sex life.

I love this photo from the Sartorialist. Of all ways to wear such bright color and pattern, this man has done a great job balancing his neutral pants, hat, and jacket with the patterned vest and then the flashy scarf — but really, it’s the blue mirror aviators that bring it all together. In black and white he’d look very classic like Ernest Hemingway, but he’s working technicolor in the new millennium and I think it’s wonderful.

I know they say actions speak louder than words, but they don’t know C. Andy. Back in my Mad magazine days, one of my favorite features was Jokes with No Punchlines; for your consideration, here is a Punchline with No Joke, lifted directly from a brief telephone conversation.

“In my defense . . . It’s a very durable tambourine.”

. . . for pictures of things that improved my mood yesterday!

First, my small collection of small things to put food in, appropriately stored in a small drawer. Note the small ring molds intended for Jell-O? Tiny tiny bundt cakes? A mystery:

Second, my small collection of small stuffed toys that belonged to my grandparents, including Herman the beanbag frog, who is unspeakably priceless to me:

me: So, our favorite lesbi-man is going to be back in the lower 48 soon apparently
tycho: awesome
tycho: I spent yesterday doing something that Andy would have loved
me: Learning the banjo?
tycho: sacred harp all day singing in NYC

“You can’t beat Walmart’s unbeatable prices.”

As most internetizens do, I occasionally Google myself and my domain and see what’s up.

Aetataureate shows up on some spammy-looking website that compiles a list of “Websites with ‘tata’ in the name.”

Sorry folks, no tatas here. Move along.

17-year-old Edna St. Vincent Millay, in a letter to her sister:

I’m glad you’re not here, Norma, so that I’d have to show you I’m neither a pickled lime nor a pants-button.

I hope we are all able to say the same, unless some of you are indeed pants-buttons.

During this time in her life Ms. Millay signed her correspondence “Vincent,” which is wonderful.

Yesterday my mom and I did some comprehensive shoe shopping, which went pretty well considering I have large, uniquely shaped feet. My friend Sam, who is the king of not just the Birkenstock and clogs school of thought but also wearing them with handknitted socks (can you tell he is the best?), seemed the right person to tell about my new sandals:

caroline: Shmuel
tychoish: yes dearest
caroline: I bought some Birkenstocks today.
caroline: First pair.
tychoish: you’ll have a girlfriend by the end of the summer

This weekend I talked with a friend of a friend who’s a teacher about the way her students use hate speech without realizing it. My mom, who’s also a teacher, constantly tells her students not to use slurs and other hate words in class and it’s an uphill battle.

Christine tells her students the classroom is a “No Hate Zone,” and in a classic back and forth, they insist that their slurs aren’t really slurs. Yeah, what else is new: Fairly intelligent kids I used to know would say, sincerely, “The word ‘gay’ doesn’t mean the same thing when I use it.” Oh really? Sorry, I didn’t realize you could singlehandedly change the English language.

Apparently her kids use the phrase “no homo” in this context: “Mike and I went to see the new Harry Potter movie, no homo.” It’s basically a hatey version of the way we joke about bromance or man-dates. Instead of good-humoredly acknowledging their homosocial behavior they have to turn it into a “Gay people, gross!” thing instead.

(See also: Frindle. Not a true analogy since in that book he invents a completely new word and assigns it an existing meaning, instead of trying to, you know, swapsies.)