Best of the Year
Read the rest of her 2018 List at BOOK-TREKS.COM
Emily Jane Fox & Friends. Hawking her new book, Born Trump. Hanging out with Maureen Dowd and other media glitterati and the Vanity Fair crowd at Ludlow House downtown. Ridiculing Ivanka as no longer an elite. That’s rich. Irony notwithstanding. Trashing Trumps is fun for the vain coastal cocktail contingent. But. Beware. In the end deplorable Fox & Friends viewers will outfox the Ivy League punditry again. With votes.
The Spotted Pig, trendy mainstay of the West Village has been the fodder for recent #MeToo due to bad behavior by restaurateur duo Mario Batali and Ken Friedman. Friedman’s chef co-owner April Bloomfield has parted ways with him after pretending to be oblivious to the debauched behavior in the venue’s after-hours-upstairs. Drugging and raping staff. Allegedly.
News today that another woman is going to partner with Friedman to revive The Spotted Pig. Gabrielle Hamilton, author of Blood, Bones & Butter and decades-acclaimed chef owner of East Village gem Prune. A renegade rebel from lobster fiascos at upscale camps in the Berkshires, to line chef at Curtis & Schwartz in Northampton while at Hampshire College, as told in Table’s Edge. This is an interesting decision. But. Hey. Go Gabrielle! You are a true survivor.
Author Tom Wolfe. His books stand the test of time. No one ever coined cultures better. Social x-rays. Limousine liberals. Radical chic. The ME generation. University athletics as centers of corruption. Astronauts as heroes of a generation. Wolfe’s white suits and literary legacy live on.
I Am Charlotte Simmons. Bonfire of the Vanities. The Right Stuff. Back to Blood. All-time favorites on the Book-Treks shelf.
It seems that Tom’s first job in journalism was as a reporter at The Springfield Union, in Springfield, Massachusetts.
Bring May flowers? Seriously. 5″ in Central Park this morning. This is no April Fool’s joke. And. Dr. Husband has to work. Alternate Side rules are in effect. What? Stupid.
Speaking of Alternate Side, new novel by Anna Quindlen. Cul-de-sac parking intrigue on the Upper East Side. But. Alas. Her overuse of the past perfect tense left me out in the cold.
Yankees home opener postponed.
It’s the first full day of Spring. Yet. Wintry all-day snow. Upper West Side got more than most. Over 8 inches. So. Read Autumn by Ali Smith for tomorrow’s book club:
Collage campus. I didn’t intend to like this book based on its subject matter. Dying old guy and young girl as friends. Yet. I did like it. More for its richness of language, word play, concision of phrasing. And. Daniel’s perspective on life as a collage alum, rather than a college one. An asymmetrically smart relationship. Historical. Topical. Not a story novel. More a literary read.
Make America laugh again. Journalists are such easy prey. They take themselves so seriously that any jab puts them into supercilious overdrive. Get a grip. Stop swinging at low hanging fruit and do some real reporting. Stormy. Really? And. Of course. Dennis Rodman would love to join the Rocket Man summit. Why not?
Speaking of light. Two out of three books so far fit the bill. The Wife Between Us, by Greer Hendricks, Sarah Pekkanen. Not sure why this took two women to conjure it. Disturbed families. Vulnerable adults. Worth a few hours on a wintry Saturday. Mrs., Caitlin Macy. Upper East Side moms. Nothing more than trite. However, The Woman In the Window, by A.J. Finn is not light at all. Dr.Husband reports depressing and tedious. So nope. Won’t read that one.
Apologies to Archie Bell & the Drells. Go Tiger!