Poet's Corner

Not only is our new library just gorgeous and full of cozy chairs and large hassocks and windows and sunlight and air, but one particular favorite nook is right next to all the poetry books. I call it Poet's Corner.

I hadn't noticed whether the shelves held cook books or geography or algebra, I just loved the chairs there. But the other day I was snuggled into an armchair to read and when I came up for air, looked over at the shelf and realized all these wonderful people were lined up there looking over me -- all the Beat Poets in their great black beatnik garb -- shelves full of them and down the way, I saw Auden, Frost, Dickinson, Plath -- all my pals -- and on the far side I can see the more modern poets like Pinksky and Brodsky, one of my professors at Columbia, unfortunately no longer with us, but his words are. All his words right there at my Poet's Corner.

Of course my friend Matthew, a poet, didn't miss it for a minute. It's our favorite haunt now.

She Drives Me Crazy

Great piece about that French Bombshell, Brigitte Bardot, by Alan Vanneman in the City Lights Film Journal.

Facial Intercourse

What a term for kissing -- facial intercourse! Here's a tease from the piece I mention in the post below:

She Gives Good Lip

"The way you kiss says a lot about how you make love," says Ava Cadell, Ph.D., an L.A.-based sexologist and author. "I call kissing 'facial intercourse.' It's not just using the lips; it's using the entire body. If she uses her hands on you and presses her breasts into you and moans and groans, she's going to be a great lover. The best female lovers also create sexual anticipation. They start with baby kisses, and then maybe lick your top lip and suck your bottom lip, and as they're doing that, they play with your hair, or put your hands on them. It's sort of like a dance."

And I thought I'd written about kissing pretty thoroughly, but I guess not.

Seven Signs She'll Be Good In Bed

In one of my favorite magazines, Men's Health, don't miss this fun piece called 7 Signs She'll Be Good In Bed by Chris Connolly. No news to me. I do love coffee ice cream, I do love to dance, but honestly I'm not too skilled on the flying trapeze.

Are You Working Hard At Your Relationship?

If you weren't working hard enough at work, now you're expected to work hard at getting hard guys, even for the same woman you've shared a bed for 25 years with -- is that reasonable? Is this what the notion of working 24X7 has driven us to?

I'm reading a most amazing book, Against Love by Laura Kipnis where she suggests we've all gone off the deep end in America in terms of bringing the Puritan work ethic to the bedroom. She suggests giving up on "working at your marriage" and put a little passion in your life -- it's called adultery.

Some snippets:

"Nevertheless, our age dedicates itself to allying the turbulence of romance and the rationality of the long-term couple, hoping to be convinced despite all evidence to the contrary that love and sex are obtainable from one person over the course of decades, and that desire will manage to sustain itself over thirty or forty or fifty years of cohabitation (Should desire unaccountably sputter out, just give up sex; lack of libido for your mate is never an adequate rationale for "looking elsewhere.") Of course both parties must also work at keeping passion alive (what joy), given the presumption that even after living in close proximity to someone for an historically unprecedented length of time, you will still muster the requisite fizz to achieve sexual congress on a regular basis."

"And true enough, some couples do manage to perform enough psychical retooling to reshape the anarchy of desire to the confines of the marriage bed, plugging away at the task year after year like diligent assembly line workers (once a week, same time, same position), aided by the occasional fantasy or two to get the old motor to turn over, or keep running, or complete the trip. The erotic life of a nation of workaholics; if sex seems like work, clearly you're not working hard enough at it."

Work Work Work Work Work Work Work

Are we just overdoing it? I'm writing about it over here at Worthwhile this morning.

This Day Begins

This day begins with me cleaning some old stuff out of the refrigerator and forcing it down the drain. The motorboat blades in the sink will ... in theory ... chop up just about anything and send it on its way down stream. A hard boiled egg, some old slices of mango, a leftover happy meal.

I always keep my fingers clear of the scary monster, held prayer-like at my waist, praying no one throws a wrench or even a spoon in the works.

It will make a clean sweep of it for you, but honestly as I watch it swirl and hear it grind -- syncopated ba-dum -- I remember even though it works remarkably well, it smells and unnerves you and no one really enjoys doing it.

Naked Fish

Also had a most delicious lunch at Naked Fish with a friend from Mitre today. Excellent food, excellent conversation, excellent funky Cuban decor and great music in the ladies room ... okay, I admit, that was me doing the samba in the mirror. A very passionate place thanks to it's owner.

Pingsville

Had a terrific meeting today in Cambridge with Ping Identity Corp's CEO, Andre Durand. Will be writing all about it tomorrow or Friday here and on Worthwhile blog. I think he helped me finally get my head around digital identity, what that means in a network environment -- worldwide network that is -- and what the future of his business is all about. Very very interesting.

Got some great pictures of Andre and Jeremy Allaire and me. I'll post them soon.

Rainy Day Men and Women

Had fun at The Charles Hotel last night.

HELLO

Sorry not to be around lately, been busy. But you can visit me over here too.

Reading, Writing, 'Rithmetic

Well, sorry to hear Estee Lauder has passed away. Seems Yahoo News fell for that old line about her being not a day over 39.

The arithmetic is most mysterious.

They call her 95 years old here.

They call her 97 here.

I still think no one deserves 39 more than she.

Get The Math Straight

The following headlines are currently running -- I'm not sure how to link to them:

On Yahoo's main screen "Tens of Thousands Rally For Abortion Rights"

Click on that story headline and the headline becomes "Thousands March For Abortion Rights"

Then read deeper into that same story in the body copy and it says, "Authorities no longer give formal crowd estimates, but various police sources informally estimated the throng at between 500,000 and 800,000 strong."

So when is 800,000 = to "tens of thousands" exactly? Seems a little misleading.

You Only Have To Be Yourself

I was thinking of this on my bike the other day. When you're a kid, you're taking most of your cues from your family as to who the hell you are. You find out pretty damned quick, they don't know you from Adam.

Then, you start trying to figure out who you might be -- and that it might be nice to be yourself, on your own terms.

That's where I got stuck.

It was like a stick in the spokes of my bicycle wheel making a rickety-tickety noise.

Being yourself -- on your own terms.

That "your own terms" part is killer.

What if they really loved you when you were being your most unique and unusual self ON YOUR OWN TERMS. Not growing up to be the person they thought you should be, or the person they wanted you to be, or the person they approved of, or the person who "fit" in their world.

And then the truth of it occurred to me -- there are always a few people, maybe only one, when you are a kid, who actually does approve of you on your own terms. And that's all you need. You can set your compass for due north with that one solid mother lode (and often as not, it is a mother who loves you despite all the crazy things you do, but it can be your dad or an uncle or a wild great aunt or your older sister -- doesn't matter who.) You just need one person who likes you for being the weird you that you. And that one person will help you become yourself on your own terms. They'll save your life.

But as you go from 10 to 15 to 20 to 25, you still get bullied and buffeted about from pillar to post, being encouraged to fit into something, fit into somewhere, be someone else.

And just about the time you've been pushed around enough and you've really been trying to be everyone BUT you, then you suddenly realize you might try just being YOU. That in fact, it's the only person can be. So you put your foot down and make a stab at it -- being you. And the strangest part is -- it works.

In fact, nothing else ever works as well.

It's just so hard to get around to it.

Chipmunks Squirrels Baboons

There are so many wild animals in my backyard doing funny things and basic animalistic hijinx. They make me laugh out loud. I tell you. On a spring day, they are jumping for joy.

Talking Heads -- Animals

I'm mad...And that's a fact
I found out...Animals don't help
Animal think...They're pretty smart
Shit on the ground...See in the dark.

They wander around like a crazy dog
Make a mistake in the parking lot
Always bumping into things
Always let you down down down down.

They're never there when you need them
They never come when you call them
They're never there when you need them
The never come when you call them down down down down.

I know the animals...Are laughing at us
They don't even know...What a joke is
I won't follow...Animal's advice
I don't care...If they're laughing at us.

They're never there when you need them
They never come when you call them
They're never there when you need them
The never come when you call them down down down down.

They say they don't need money
They're living on nuts and berries
They say animals don't worry
You know animals are hairy?
They think they know what's best
They're making a fool of us
They ought to be more careful
They're setting a bad example
They have untroubled lives
They think everything's nice
They like to laugh at people
They're setting a bad example
(Go ahead) Laugh at me.

-- Talking Heads

Death of Ivan Ilyich

Have you read this? Check it out.

This new edition combines Tolstoy?s most famous short tale, The Death of Ivan Ilyich, with a less well known but equally brilliant gem, Master and Man, both newly translated by Ann Pasternak Slater. Both stories confront death and the process of dying: In Ivan Ilyich, a bureaucrat looks back over his life, which suddenly seems meaningless and wasteful, while in Master and Man, a landowner and servant must each confront the value of the other as they brave a devastating snowstorm. The quintessential Tolstoyan themes of mortality, spiritual redemption, and life?s meaning are nowhere more movingly and deftly explored than in these two tales.

-- Amazon

March

Women are marching on Washington DC this morning. Check it out. Wish I were there.

Say What You Will

Okay, okay, okay, we all know astrology is bogus. But some days ... it sure hits the mark.

This morning I was thinking, I'd rather be having an easy Sunday, reading the paper and all, but decided it was essential to get down to some serious spring cleaning. Started the day by tearing apart my closet, vacuuming it (it's a walk-in closet) and rearranging everything this morning -- lining up my shoes by color -- piling up the stuff that's going to charity. Then I go to the computer and read this horoscope today.

Forget the fact that it's Sunday, and you really should be enjoying yourself. You'll be in the mood to work, and work hard. If all else fails, tear apart your closets and cabinets. You know what they say about cleanliness.