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"In the weeks after my husband moved out, I received an email from someone offering to help me clean the house or cook, an email that evokes images of dishes piling up in the sink, flies hovering around half-eaten peanut-butter sandwiches, laundry accumulating. I wonder where these nightmarish visions of our domestic situation are coming from. Why would the departure of my husband launch me and my daughter into a life of squalor? Someone else writes: 'There are no words for a catastrophe of this magnitude. I am thinking of you.' And it begins to seem as if my husband has, in fact, not moved…
"'When you say fantasy,' said a tall, pale, blonde woman, 'you think medieval. So: Why?'
"The simplest answer to that question is John Ronald Reuel Tolkien."
Perhaps trichromatic vision serves an evolutionary purpose other than choosing ripe fruit. nudge, nudge, wink, wink.
I've been a Bert Jansch fan since the mid-sixties. Naturally, when he played my hometown recently, I was forced to be elsewhere.
When our city and our lives were graced by Beverly Sills.
For more Sills on YouTube, visit The Standing Room.
What's amazing (and absolutely obvious, depending on how you look at it) is that I listen to music differently now. I mean, my teenage ears don't have very much in common with my soon-to-be 30 year old ears.
I've only just discovered this.
Through the use of iTunes.
Hopefully, this'll be the last painfully obvious discovery I'll have to make. At least for awhile. Kelli laughs at me. "Like a baby taking its first steps," she tells me. "Pretty funny considering where you work," she says.
Yes, yes, I know. But let me explain. When I was younger, and…
Ferdinand Mount's new novel features the Marquis de Condorcet, Thomas Jefferson, the Duke and Duchess de la Rochefoucauld, Jefferson's secretary William Short, Sally Hemings, Lafayette, and Robespierre—seldom, according to Adam Thorpe, to their credit.
Courtney Scott fills us in on the life of an archeology undergraduate. It's not perzackly like Lara Croft or Indiana Jones.
This clip has it all: Bob Fosse choreography, psychedelic Bach, frug-dancing zombie hippies, and Sammy Davis as a manic street preacher.