and I am redder then ever. I will not illustrate this time–am too embarrassed.
Yesterday brought me to a treasure trove of rock memorabilia. I came in close contact with: Elvis Presley’s jumpsuit, the Michael Jackson outfit Eminem wore in his music video, a lifesize Ahnold dummy used in Terminator 2, Madonna’s love letter faxes and erotic video, artwork by John, Ringo, and Paul, and Jimi Hendrix’s first contract.
That was a ton of fun.
And today took me to the streets, where I asked New Yorkers to weigh in on the NYPD’s slim pickings of the federal stimulus fund. People were particularly talkative and open today near Penn Station. I liked that! But during this brief amount of time, the sun did its damage on my fair complexion, and I look like a brunette tomato.
Meanwhile, I am in the middle of reading the TNY Kindle article. I’m not done yet—and as Betsy pointed out, it’s self-perpetuating that the culturally snobbish (I say that with love!) New Yorker would run an anti-Kindle story—but I haven’t warmed to the idea of the device yet. People like the Kindle because it’s clean and smell-free, but I like the worn textures of books that have been places. When my high school English teacher gave me books to read, I didn’t mind that it smelled like his cigars, because the eau de tobacco comprised his reading experience. And that’s powerful, and in a sense, becomes part of the text, if you let it. But, on the other hand, it would probably be cheaper and logistically sound to use a Kindle. Still, I’m holding out as long as I can.