Disneyworld is pretty much the last thing that comes to mind when I think of taking some time off and going away on a relaxing holiday. But then I get this:
I know what happens.
I read the book.
I believe I just got the goodbye look.
So that pretty much settled that. I’m going to Disneyworld. I just got an e-mail from a friend who is, as this very moment, vacationing in Venice. It was a lifetime ago that I saw Italy and it’ll be another lifetime until I can return. Until then, I’m off to the happiest place on earth. So help me Bog, it had better not rain. Not for the kind of money I had to burn.
Won’t you pour me a Cuban breeze, Gretchen?
Last Sunday, The New York Times printed their semi-annual fashion magazine, T. This was the spring issue. It’s thick and glossy and nothing but ads, really.
One spread featured Lou Reed wearing a Rick Owens jacket ($1,602), t-shirt ($286) and pants ($750).
Wearing a friggin’ $286 t-shirt!
I guess I’m glad for Lou because he certainly did earn it, but it makes me kind of sad, too. When I was a tyke, I saw Lou tour his Sally Can’t Dance album at Cleveland’s Music Hall. He had platinum blond hair. At the beginning of the show, someone walked a dazed Lou out to the mike at center stage, strapped a guitar on him and he stood rooted in that spot for the entire show. But he got through it!
Now he’s a model.
Okay. As Bukowski put it, scramble two.