The new issue of Sawbuck is up, which means the struggle has been won by the righteous:
Emily Anderson///Barry Ballard///Kristy Bowen
Steven Breyak///Nava Fader///Noah Falck
Donora Hillard///Duane Locke
Donald Mager///Dawn Pendergast
Read about their poetic victory in Sawbuck 1.8 here
This Friday, something you don't want to miss:
LIT 13 LAUNCH PARTY
Friday, September 7th, 6-10 PM
Wollman Hall @ The New School
66 West 12th Street, NYC, 10011
Featuring readings by...
And a special talk/reading with ROBERT POLITO on LIT 13 feature DETOUR: A Symposium on Edgar Ulmer's 1945 PRC Film Noir.
Back in NYC, craziness in the US Open today. Haas beat Blake 4:6, 6:4, 3:6, 6:0, 7:6. Do you understand what happened? Blake lost in the tie breaker and sent Haas to the quarter finals. Blake is the darling right now, so even though Haas won, I felt bad for him since the crowd was audibly chanting for Blake's victory.
Since multi-tasking on my couch is my favorite past time: while watching Blake's downfall I also realized how much I love virtual Scrabble (yes, Facebook, you've finally won me over), and how negligent I've been to ignore "missed connections" on craiglist. This is the subjecting heading of my favorite missed connections today in nyc:
"to the girl I accidentally punched a while back"
runner up: "RedBull Sophmore at St Johns!?"
runner up: "Cutie in Target"
Cutest: "You sold me cherry tomatoes at the Union Sq Market today"
Sorry, kiddo, but I don't think the kind of person selling cherry tomatoes at a farmer's market will be checking missed connections. Maybe you should just go back next weekend.
Do you guys remember the doll for boys? Widely marketed in the 1980s by Hasboro: My Buddy.
See an ad for My Buddy. I've never seen boys more happier to play with a doll:
My brother was a premie and my mom is a shrink. I'm sure she thought it would be healthy for him to play with My Buddy because it was less violent than GI Joe's etc. But this just meant that My Buddy got his hair shaved off and his face colored in with marker before he was dragged through the mud and tied to the swingset like a witch. She also failed to calculate that my brother, being a premie, was still on the tinier side, and was not that much bigger than the doll itself. She also failed to consider that I might try and save My Buddy from his faux-firey death at the stake. And when I did this, it gave my mom the biggest scare. I distinctly remember jumping on the sofa holding My Buddy upside down and singing and my mom looked up from whatever she was doing in the kitchen and thought I was dangling my brother and shaking him wildly. I have never seen my mother jump so quickly over so many pieces of furniture to save my "brother." It was like watching an Olympic hurdler in slow motion- beautiful and terrifying.