Archives for May 11, 2004

A reminder for those of you joining us late: this is a four-handed blog, and the other two hands belong to the pseudonymous Our Girl in Chicago, who has returned to the blogosphere after a much-lamented absence. The headlines for her posts begin with “OGIC” (just as mine begin with “TT”).

Our Girl also has her very own mailbox, and you can write to her directly by going to the top module of the right-hand column, scrolling down to WRITE US, and clicking on her e-mail address, which is directly below mine. I don’t mind reading her mail, but it’s ever so much nicer when she gets it straight from you!

A further reminder: if you don’t want your incoming letters to get tossed out with the spam, make sure to include an intelligible subject line, i.e., “Your Dumb Post About Subject Lines” or “You’re All Wet About Raymond Chandler.” Blank subject lines, “Hi Terry!,” or emoticons unaccompanied by text tend not to get opened (unless I’m feeling lucky).

We return you now to my irregularly scheduled bedtime.

“I feel now that gastronomical perfection can be reached in these combinations: one person dining alone, usually upon a couch or a hill side; two people, of no matter what sex or age, dining in a good restaurant; six people, of no matter what sex or age, dining in a good home.

“Three or four people sometimes attain perfection either in public or in private, but they must be very congenial, else the conversation, both spoken and unsaid, which is so essential a counterpoint to the meal’s harmony, will turn dull and forced. Usually six people act as whets, or goads, in this byplay and make the whole more casual, if, perhaps, less significant.

“The six sould be capable of decent social behavior: that is, no two of them should be so much in love as to bore the others, nor at the opposite extreme should they be carrying on any sexual or professional feud which could put poison on the plates all must eat from. A good combination would be one married couple, for warm composure; one less firmly established, to add a note of investigation to the talk; and two strangers of either sex, upon whom the better-acquainted diners could sharpen their questioning wits.”

M.F.K. Fisher, An Alphabet for Gourmets

Alas, I consumed no art today, other than that which hangs on my walls. Instead, I spent the day taking part in a teleconference of farflung judges for an Award to Be Named Later, answering accumulated e-mail, working on my schedule for May and June, and nibbling away at a stack of all the other pesky little chores that make up a full-time freelancer’s life. Believe me, it ain’t always champagne, roses, and opening nights.

I’m posting earlier than usual so that I can end my lengthy day with a half-hour or so of a Gary Cooper movie, Anthony Mann’s Man of the West, but I may not even bother with that. I have to get up first thing in the morning to write a record review, and what appeals most at the moment is at least eight hours’ worth of preliminary sleep.

Better luck Tuesday!

David Bowman, author of the well-titled book Let the Dog Drive, has checked in to say that I should drive (gladly), and to set me straight: the emphasis is equally on “dog” and “drive.” As I told him, I more or less realized that, but still found it fun to imagine contexts in which one would say “Let the dog drive,” or alternatively, “Let the dog drive.” He adds that “Jim Harrison suggested to me that the sequel should be titled Let the Dog Drive Further.”

Meanwhile, Lizzie says the book has good word-of-mouth, and in her comments Bowman tells the story behind the novel’s Joan Didion blurb. I’m adding his book to my queue.

Here’s hoping the dog drives better than Toonces.