A Carpet Of White
One of my most vivid memories is seeing snow for the first time. It was just after I had moved to the States. I was getting ready to go to class (Macroeconomic Analysis, I'll never forget). I stepped out of my house and felt the the white stuff crunch under my shoes. It was no more than a mere inch, but it utterly transformed the neighborhood and landscape. I forgot all about my class, went right back indoors, pulled up a chair to the bay window, made myself a large pot of chai and for the rest of the afternoon, just gazed.
Last night, when I got into bed and turned out the light, the bedroom stayed brightly-lit from the moonlight reflecting off the first snow. It felt so good that I had trouble falling asleep for a long time.
This morning, I'm at a (different) bay window, chai in hand, iBook in lap, offering up a handful of linkies:
Robert Christgau's annual turkey shoot is always a hoot. This year's edition leads off with his knocking the stuffing out of the new Burt Bacharach album.
Michel Legrand is, of course, a freakin' genius. A huge bag of goodies, in the form of the Thomas Crown Affair soundtrack, is generously available at Flickhead's. If you'd rather not get it all, you should at least score the two vocal tunes: "Windmills Of Your Mind" sung by Noel Harrison and "His Eyes, Her Eyes" by the melodiously French-accented Legrand himself. Precious.
Ten writers admit to the things they've taken from Joan Didion.