Less time dancing; more time in the batting cage.

And I suspect that there is very little dancing going on in Foxboro–but, rather, business as usual.

Am I the only one who had no idea that tapping one’s right foot is code for “let’s have an assignation?”  (she said, politely–and also declining to post a link, since it’s all just too sad and tawdry)  What does it mean if you tap your left foot? 

On second thought, maybe I don’t want to know.

 I’m not a big Katie Couric fan, but this stinks.

Apparently, the Red Sox spent a recent lengthy rain delay in Chicago dancing together in the clubhouse.  If the Boys feel good enough to dance for hours on end, maybe it’s time to stop worrying about them–and just enjoy whatever is left of this season’s ride.  Of course, this is a team whose biggest star hugs his opponents, so perhaps the carefree dancing should come as no surprise.

Speaking of dancing, we will soon have a new Attorney General–and maybe this will help Congress restore some of the currently lost sections of our Constitution?  Unless, of course, he is replaced by the possibly even less-competent Michael Chertoff: the very concept of which, fair or not, brings only this to mind.  This may only have been a trial balloon, though, since the Administration is already back-tracking.  Ideally, however, whomever is chosen, this  will come to pass. 

Will Cheney be the next one to step down “for health reasons,” upon which, Condi Rice will be elevated to the Vice President’s office, with the 2008 Republican nominee picking her as a running mate?  If I had to make a prediction, I think that would be it.

I was so disconcerted by the tedious aspects of my current reading list, that I am rereading an old favorite, The Power Lovers.  It can be a little bit difficult to track down, but is well worth the trouble–even though you will never look at Walter Mondale, among others, the same way again.  Myra MacPherson also wrote a great–and, sadly, somewhat obscure–oral history about the Vietnam War, Long Time Passing: Vietnam and the Haunted Generation.   I read it for the first time many years ago–and still remember most of it quite vividly.  In many ways, it reminds me of the great Studs Terkel oral histories, which I first remember my mother shoving into my hands when I was in junior high. 

 I suspect that it would be Very Cool to have lunch with Ms MacPherson.   

Or, for that matter, to dance with the Red Sox.

I read a lot, and I usually have 10-12 books strewn about, in various stages of being completed. Essentially, I read one, until I lose interest–and then set it aside and move on to another, and another, and maybe go back to the first for a while, then suddenly pick up a fourth–and on and on it goes, until there are books stacked all over the place and I literally trip over them. I always know it’s a great book–or, at least, a fun book–when I read it straight through, without jumping off to something else or ever putting it down. Would that it happened more often.

If anyone is reading, or has recently finished, something he or she highly recommends, I would love to hear about it, because I’m always looking for good books to read.

Right now, I’m reading A Tragic Legacy: How a Good vs. Evil Mentality Destroyed the Bush Presidency by Glenn Greenwald. The title is fairly self-explanatory, but Mr. Greenwald (currently writing a regular column for Salon) has done his research–and done it quite exhaustively. His essential thesis is that the President is utterly incapable of seeing anything resembling a shade of grey, and that–over and over and over–the Administration is attempting to apply simplistic, one-dimensional logic to incredibly complex geopolitical situations, with predictably disastrous results. In my case, he is preaching to the choir, but it’s still a well-written, and worthwhile, read. (This is an interesting article arguing that the word “Manichean” is invariably used incorrectly by the mainstream media. I was left thinking, hmm, no matter how much I would like to know a great deal about every single thing on the planet–no, make that the universe–I have a long way to go.)

I am sort of ashamed to admit that I am reading Bay Buchanan’s The Extreme Makeover of Hillary (Rodham) Clinton–but, I am. There are no surprises. Ms. Buchanan is not a fan, and uses the word “liberal” with the same sort of mingled contempt and fear which most people reserve for words like “Nazi.” For me, this book is light reading, when I am looking for a diversion, and the near-certainly of having a little snicker here and there.

Which makes me kind of a jerk, probably, but anyone who knows me would assure one and all that that is a fairly accurate self-assessment.

I recently finished Lauren Sandler’s (watch out! She is almost certainly liberal!) Righteous: Dispatches from the Evangelical Youth Movement. This was one of those rare can’t-put-it-down books–but I definitely had nightmares, afterwards. Terrific reporting, covering a subject which is, I confess, utterly foreign to me. The sixth chapter was the most eye-opening; who knew that Patrick Henry College “exists explicitly to develop a militia of radical right-wing commandants who, armed with their fundamentalism and debate skills, will march upon Capitol Hill and claim it for Christ”? (Sandler, p. 159) And, judging from the college’s own mission statements, I don’t think that’s hyperbole.

Lest I seem too secular, though, I have also been working through Pema Chodron’s Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living. It is very soothing, but more dense than one would expect.

I have always been a shameless Watergate buff (and the actual identity of Deep Throat came as a great disappointment), so I am very much looking forward to John Dean’s latest, Broken Government: How Republican Rule Destroyed the Legislative, Executive, and Judicial Branches. I thought Conservatives Without Conscience was a thoughtful, and provocative, book, and it made me completely reasses my opinion of Mr. Dean. And this is a cool link, too, if you are a wonk and/or weenie–which it is possible that I am.

Finally, because my softball team won our division title tonight, and is headed for the playoffs next week, I will be re-reading Karl Kuehl’s Mental Toughness: Baseball’s Winning Edge. Please don’t tell my teammates, because I am afraid they will laugh at me. (after which, several of them may ask to borrow it, when I am finished)

There is no fiction on my current reading list–which is sort of appalling. I hope people come up with good recommendations, and rescue me from my non-fiction rut.

By the way, I really wish I had been in this room yesterday. Because–wow. And double wow.

And this guy may win the Republican nomination. The mind boggles.

Literally millions of us love them–and they don’t love us back.   In fact, mostly, I’m pretty sure they don’t even like us.  (warning, that last link contains extreme profanity.  Appropriate to the situation, but be forewarned, in case you have a delicate nature.)

This rejection of our love is a cruel truth, but a truth, nevertheless.  I may have to spend the entire night (I surely will not be sleeping peacefully), listening to this.  Or, it might be nice to have Fraulein Maria show up and sing something comforting.

Not that I’m feeling, you know, bitter or anything, after spending the weekend in Baltimore.  I did, at least, enjoy a delicious Cobb salad this afternoon, so, all was not lost. 

Since I am now thinking about jazz, it goes without saying I love Mr. Coltrane, but for my money, this is The Guy.  You can scarcely go wrong with any of his albums, but this is a good place to start.  Especially Skylark, which is wonderful in any form, but Jug’s version is almost as good as the one by The Honest and True Queen of All Music on the Johnny Mercer Songbook.  I had the tremendous good fortune to see what happened to be her very last concert at Radio City, and despite the fact that she had to be helped out onto the stage, and we were near the back of the highest balcony, it was absolutely excellent.  Her performance of “Night in Tunisia” (a song I love so much I once used it in a book) is something I genuinely won’t ever forget. 

There was an elderly woman, dressed in her Sunday best, sitting next to us, and she literally spent the entire concert with her hands clasped together and with so much joy on her face, that everyone who saw her smiled, too.  The whole time.  During the intermission, she told me she had been saving up for her ticket for weeks, and that the last time she had seen Ms. Fitzgerald sing in person had been–in the 1930s, at the Apollo.  Wow.  How cool is that?! 

And if this leads you to believe that I was standing a few feet from the Oval Office on Saturday morning, that is because I was.  However, I feel confident in saying that this fact will lead to no policy changes whatsoever.

I am a huge fan of Elaine May, both as a writer–and as a genuinely hilarious actress.  But, strangely, almost no one ever talks about what I consider one of her two best movies, In the Spirit.  Or, maybe this is not strange, since despite the fact I have been recommending this movie to people for years, I only know two other people on the planet who love it–and they happen to be my parents.  But, what can I tell you–we laugh our heads off every time we see it.  I’m not sure even how to begin to describe the story, but it captures a wonderfully accurate version of my adored New York City, and explores female friendship, and Melanie Griffith gives her best performance ever in a tiny cameo–well, shoot, if you can find a copy, grab it and run.  (Unless it’s my copy, upon which, I will chase you down.)

 I may frighten off anyone who happened to read this when I say that Marlo Thomas is Ms. May’s co-star in this movie, but she is also extremely funny in this film–and, well, it’s in my top five favorite movies of all time, I think.  Since it was something of a commercial flop, it’s pretty hard to find, but you could always try here.  I don’t think they have issued a DVD yet, but boy, I hope they do.  I remember seeing this movie with a close friend the night it opened in Boston, and the theatre was pretty much sold out–and several hundred people were grimly silent for the next hour and forty minutes, and one person (yes, that would be me) cracked up the entire time–to the point that people stared and pointed and made snide and cruel remarks about said unfortunate person.  My friend hated it so much that I was afraid she might stop speaking to me forever, but luckily, we are still good pals.

 If you can’t find In the Spirit, another overlooked gem is Elaine May’s star turn with Walter Matthau, in A New Leaf , back in 1971.  This one is also tough to find, although you might luck out on Ebay, or one of my favorite sites, Half.com, or you could try this.

I gather Elaine May is not everyone’s cup of tea, but when I was a child, my mother used to play her Nichols & May records all the time (and if you can find one of those in CD format, let me know, and I’ll buy it from you immediately), and so, I was brainwashed to like her from a very early age.  My mother also got me hooked on the deadpan brilliance of Bob Newhart, particularly this famous comedy set.

And another oddball movie I adore–which also seems to annoy most people who see it–is the very sadly obscure Hot Millions, starring Maggie Smith and Peter Ustinov, with Mr. Newhart showing up in a small, but pivotal, role as a smarmy, annoying–and delightful–character.

Maggie Smith has, of course, never given anything but a brilliant performance in her entire life, and as British actors go, is second in my affections only to the positively incomparable Diana Rigg as Emma Peel.

I love Emma Peel almost as much as I love The Team That Makes Me Crazy.

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