there is something comforting about being swathed in all that grand Goodman gabardine
It is exceedingly dark though. I have the flashlight on my new iPhone, but it produces an odd, diffuse, almost useless light. When I was a young man, flashlights did their jobs and illuminated the dark, not just small-print menus in dimly lit restaurants. It was a different and heady time. I point …
I fall into an open personhole.
As I am climbing out, a car parks on top of the hole. I call up to the driver, explain my predicament. He hears me but refuses to give up the spot, even briefly. He’d been driving around for a half an hour looking for a place to park, he yells down to me. I do und…
AND SO IT goes. He lies and lies and lies about the film for well over an hour. Clearly, he has not seen it. He has made up a film that is by definition antithetical to Ingo’s concept, antithetical to Ingo’s artistic mission. I have been thrust into a waking nightmare, but I hold my tongue until th…
AT BARASSINI’S, THE annoying, overbearingly concerned Tsai hovers and clucks on and on about my poor head. It’s unbearable. No, I don’t need an ice pack. No, I don’t need her to take me to the emergency room. No, I don’t need two aspirin. Or some tea. Or water. No, I like the cheese in my beard. …
