Blog Entries

Damn Civility

There’s a lot of chatter going out these on the topic of civility. It reminded me that one Christmas, I was in the checkout line unloading a pile of toys. I put a big stuffed dog at the head of the line, pointed to it and said, “Sit. Stay.” The woman running the cash register, said to the same inanimate animal, without missing a beat, “Now there’s a good dog.” More >>

Contending the "Sub" in Suburban

One of the reasons the arts and academia so readily denigrate the suburbs is they can get away with it. Suburbanites have been sociological pariahs for so long; it’s become a natural state, an accepted embarrassment. I think the proverbial visitor from another planet would find that ironic, since what you clearly get with a nice suburban town is the best of all worlds: access to cultural amenities, small town intimacy and convenience, and abundant natural and man-made beauty.More >>

Smelly, Intoxicating Paperbacks

My reading habit was mostly self-induced, though heavily influenced by my father’s collection of boyhood books, notably the works of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Zane Grey, “Tom Swift” by Victor Appleton and lots of other popular action writers of the early 20th century now lost in obscurity.More >>

Blood, Sweat and Tier Pages

On the bulletin board in my office is the internal phone list, a bunch of receipts skewered by a push pin, several pictures of my wife and son, and the famous Karsh portrait of Winston Churchill. As the only person I know who has actually read History of the English Speaking Peoples, as well as the complete War Memoirs (the series that earned Churchill the Nobel Prize for Literature, no less), I’m clearly an unabashed admirer. So when I say that Churchill would have made a lousy creative director, I do so advisably. More >>

Rules to live by

Don't buy a vintage British sports car. They smell great and emit a sexy burble from the exhaust that Mazda spent millions recreating for the Miata. Unfortunately, they have to be running to hear that sound, which if you own one you'll learn is an iffy proposition. Take the money you'd spend fixing up a car that will inevitably break your heart and use it to buy a gigantic moose head for above the mantelpiece in your living room. It's just as foolhardy, but you'll never have to change the oil or have it towed back home from your cousin's barbecue. More >>