Archives for December 28, 2009

The holiday hubbub surrounding Pops: A Life of Louis Armstrong is subsiding at last, but the book continues to sell nicely and–almost as important–people continue to write about it, almost always with the utmost enthusiasm. Here are some recent links that will interest you if you’re interested in Pops:
• USA Today calls Pops “superb, clear and definitive.”
• The Associated Press calls it “magnificent.”
• The Christian Science Monitor calls it “informative and insightful.”
• City Journal calls it “luminous.”
• “When Terry Teachout writes something, you read it. And you are richly rewarded.” So says Jay Nordlinger apropos of Pops in National Review.
• Milt Rosenberg recently spoke to me about Pops on WGN’s Extension 720, his Chicago radio show. To download a podcast of the interview, go here.
Finally, two reminders about upcoming in-person appearances: I’ll be talking about, reading from, and signing copies of Pops at Politics and Prose in Washington, D.C., at seven p.m. on Thursday, January 7. For more information, go here.
I’ll also be doing a star turn at the Louis Armstrong House Museum in Queens on Saturday, January 9. Admission is free, but reservations are essential for this afternoon event, which also includes a guided tour of the house where Armstrong lived. For more information, go here.

Mrs. T and I made it back from Smalltown, U.S.A., to Bigtown, N.Y., without significant incident. We were, to be sure, patted down by security officers at the St. Louis airport on Sunday morning (her purse tested positive for TNT!). On the other hand, we managed to steer clear of the snow in New York and Chicago, so I’d say we made on the deal.
Alas, we won’t be here for long, and on Friday we’ll fly down to Florida, about which more in due course. For now, though, I plan to enjoy the half-forgotten sensations of (A) reveling in the contents of the Teachout Museum and (B) sleeping in my own bed.
Blogging will be light.

“No true nun is afraid of death. ‘I wish I knew when I was going to die,’ ninety-six-year-old Dame Frances Anne often said. ‘I wish I knew.’
“‘Why, Dame?’
“‘Then I should know what to read next.'”
Rumer Godden, In This House of Brede