The worst part of “working from home” are the noises, and sometimes the knocks, and how Scruffy has to bark at each one so there’s no good way, even, to hide.  Damn them all. 

Regardless, the Times has (as they always do) an engaging and lovely tribute to la Hardwick.  Reading it prompts me to remind you that we are, indeed, founding something the next time you’re here.  No one, in fact, is allowed off the compound without a founding.  M., I expect you on board; A.’s a columnist, there will be a Blind Item gossip column dedicated entirely to Lisa Austin and Julie Nipp.  Miss Gretchen you will write all the letters.  My name will be prominent on the masthead, of course, and I’ll send M. across the street to the bank for a check to start it up.  Junior will have a comic strip and G. will write the news and we’ll egg the houses of people who don’t subscribe.

It will all be tremendous!

[Are Bush's speechwriters lifting from Larry Craig?] 

  

… Speaking of Iran.  Marjane Satrapi wrote a brilliant graphic novel, Persepolis (2003), about coming of age in Iran in the early 80′s in the wake of the revolution that overthrew the Shah.  Now it’s an animated film and looks fantastic! 

[Hey, cartoons might be a way to get certain Presidents to study history!  Then if someone could just animate the intelligence reports ... ]

 

… has died.  Sigh.  I had no idea she was so old (91).  That’s the thing about writers and intellectuals.  They’re never in People, so it’s a bear to track their age.  Elizabeth co-founded The New York Review of Books with Barbara Epstein (who died last year), Barbara’s then husband Jason (who I keep confusing with someone else), and Elizabeth’s husband the poet Robert Lowell (pictured above).  The four of them came up with the idea for the it — “the premier literary-intellectual magazine in the English language” (Esquire) — at a 1963 dinner party over tumblers of gin. 

The next time you come for dinner we’re founding something.  I mean it. 

Today is Cresty Witten’s birthday.  (I think.)  Joan Didion’s, too.  It’s also library day. 

It’s worth noting (I have before) that Starbuck’s has an “Entertainment President“  I’ve decided that I, too, need an Entertainment President.  Send resumes and a 25-word essay on Entertainment here.

A., I need you to stop at Uwajimaya.  (After you say it, of course, 8 times fast.)  Paula made the best green tea last night.  The key, she says, is popcorn.  So get the loose green tea, make sure it has popcorn. 

It stopped raining.  Go on with your day. 

Netflix has a “Local Favorites” feature that lists the top rentals in my zip code (yours too, I’ll bet).  Here they are.  Also, A. – the pool’s about to overflow. 

1.  Even Money

2.  The Simple Life of Noah Dearborn

3.  Montana Sky

4.  Firehouse Dog

5.  Hostage

I’m buried in rain today, rain up to my armpits, my upper lip, my ears.  It’s made me listless.  No energy to tell you kids all the good stuff.  No humor, none of my usual care of the mundane.  Nothing.

I will say this.  Lisa Austin got her Christmas cards out way too damn early it was November, actually.  And therefore, technically, in the rule book of Christmas, the card doesn’t even count.  She sent a very sweet November card and now I anxiously wait to hear from her regarding Christmas.  

I think I already mentioned that it’s raining.  And that I’m listless.  One thing before I go: Evil Knievel died, which all of you know.  What you DON’T know is that A.’s neighbor in 3rd grade, Mr. Spiegel, wrote a book.  About Evil.  Now you know.

See you in the funny papers.