Sumo Suit

March 30, 2012

Things I do to inspire and entertain children:

Cheryl Strayed "Wild"

New York Times Review
by Dwight Garner

It’s not very manly, the topic of weeping while reading. Yet for a book critic tears are an occupational hazard. Luckily, perhaps, books don’t make me cry very often — I’m a thrice-a-year man, at best. Turning pages, I’m practically Steve McQueen.

Cheryl Strayed’s new memoir, “Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail,” however, pretty much obliterated me. I was reduced, during her book’s final third, to puddle-eyed cretinism. I like to read in coffee shops, and I began to receive concerned glances from matronly women, the kind of looks that said, “Oh, honey.” It was a humiliation.

To mention all this does Ms. Strayed a bit of a disservice, because there’s nothing cloying about “Wild.” It’s uplifting, but not in the way of many memoirs, where the uplift makes you feel that you’re committing mental suicide. This book is as loose and sexy and dark as an early Lucinda Williams song. It’s got a punk spirit and makes an earthy and American sound.

Newsies on Broadway

Newcastle's Revival
My brother is a Liverpool fan.  I'm a Newcastle fan.
This article delights me to no end.


A World With No Best Friends Is No World For Me
by Meghan Rother
Oh, hey guys. It’s me again. You know, the girl who met that one boyfriend on Craigslist and lived to tell about it. While I was procrastinating perusing the Internet this morning for the latest cat videos news, I came across this article published in the Sunday Times this past weekend, and it really upset me. In short, teachers in southwest London schools are trying to prevent their students from having a “best friend” because the teachers feel that they need to protect their students from the pain of losing such a close relationship over time. Now, before you think, “Um…didn’t this chick meet a dude via a bulletin board of want ads posted by potential murderers and proceed to have a brief romantic relationship with him?” I know you might not trust my judgment yet, but hear me out.