Really, Sasha?

Last year, I posted a couple of examples of what I thought was wonderful writing by New Yorker pop music critic, Sasha Frere-Jones. In both cases, his comparisons were surprising and intriguing, making me want to hear the music he was writing about. But this week he has let me down—or perhaps his editors have let him down. In the current issue (August 24, 2009), he writes, "Cohen's voice has shed its honking quality and grown darker and looser, like a tire ripped open." Sorry, but I don't buy it, Sasha. How does a voice sound like what the inside of a tire looks like? It's a weak image that doesn't help me understand how his voice has changed over the years.

My Son Channels Yogi Berra

"If you're from Canada and you don't play hockey, you're probably not from Canada."

Coffee Table Display

I’m long overdue for a list, so how about what’s on my living room coffee table. It feels like I am constantly trying to clear it off and organize it, so I can see the table, but then it grows misshapen layers of books and papers. Will a list give it some form, make this mess more acceptable in my sights?

• 20 books on top, including
5 books of poetry
2 kids books
2 photography books
2 books that were given to me
2 books for school
2 books on fly-fishing
1 library book
1 novel unfinished since spring break
1 borrowed book
4 bought secondhand
• 6 books underneath, including
a world atlas (permanent resident)
a book of poetry
3 books bought second-hand yesterday (1 for school and 1 on fly-fishing)
1 borrowed book that is long overdue
• 4 magazines on top
• 3 magazines underneath
• Also a box of tissues (Puffs with aloe vera), two coasters, various photocopies (on stretching and for school), clippings (recipes), my sunglasses, a calendar, and 40 or so pages of loose-leaf typed poems in neatly-stacked piles (more of which are also in orderly stacks on the floor next to the table).

Eagle Co. Fair & Rodeo