The Sunday papers were full of such goodness, I just had to share in case some of you actually had a life and were too busy to read them from cover-to-cover.
The Post stays true to brilliant form by listing the 25 sexiest New Yorkers—and I actually know one of them! Yay for Ms. Molly Crabapple! But elsewhere in the paper, there's troubling news: apparently a Queens lawmaker wants to establish a NYC liquor authority, saying the state liquor board is simply too busy to give us NYC sinners the time and attention we deserve. Normally, this isn't something I'd give half a crap about, but for some reason, Councilwoman Melinda Katz saw fit to add a caveat into her proposal that would ban the sale of alcohol during "any time of public emergency."
Um, what the fuck? Who among us could've gotten through 9/11—or even the blackout!—without a couple of stiff belts? And, as our fair city seems to be a fave among terrorists, there's a good chance we'll be facing some sort of debacle again. I would certainly like the option of being a little tipsy while breathing in asbestos and dead people.
The Daily News is pretty much a disappointment today, except for the story of the Harlem building that hasn't had an elevator in years, forcing one elderly woman to climb up to her roof, over the dividing wall and down into another building to get to her monthly doctor visit. With her walker. I applaud the News for covering unglamorous housing news when the other papers don't seem to give a shit. Columnist Lenore Skenazy proves once again what a batshit crazy broad she is by proposing that arranged marriages might be the way to go. Yes, Lenore, we know you're a mommy (it says so in your bio), but being married with children is not the ultimate goal in life for everyone. And while I realize your column is a "lighthearted look at our city," you're not funny. Ever.
The NY Times is a good read today. Mostly because it's time for the fashion supplement. Yay! I loved the Klaus Nomi piece and the Glenn O'Brien story on Area, brought me right back to the eighties, when I cared deeply about being cool. I loved Area. Sigh. And Danceteria. These days, if I see a line in front of a destination, I'll just turn around and go home. But back then I felt like New Jersey's answer to Bianca Jagger, being plucked out from the crowd and ushered in.
There's lots of coverage on the state of New Orleans, one year later. The regular magazine section has a riveting feature on the the kids who are still struggling. While the story was very moving, I have to confess that one part cracked me up. A truly thoughtful teacher arranged to take her class to Nantucket for a much needed break. As they got on the plane, "hoping to help students conquer their fears — of traveling, of leaving parents, of the unknown. Panic set in when the pilot introduced herself. Her name was Katrina." Doh!
The always spot-on Ethicist also provides a laugh this week. A guy writes in, having found a camera he subsequently discovered was used for up-skirting, and ponders the ethics of keeping it. (Duh! Keep it!)
Elsewhere in the world, my friend Julie spent the weekend in Kennebunkport, covering the president; the LA Times has its priorities in order and ponders the logistics of producing an Emmy tribute to Aaron Spelling in the midst of all the family drama going on; while the Washington Post reports that Law and Order: Special Victims Unit actress Mariska Hargitay has renamed Emmy week "Princess Week!" No word on whether fellow nominee Chris Meloni will be rocking a tiara.
Completely unrelated: less than two weeks 'til my vacation!!!!!
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