About a thousand years ago, I read a short story by James Thurber called Many Moons. It’s a very rockin’ little tale, and every now and again—usually when I’m in the midst of some teaching gig—it comes back to me. This week marked the start of Part II in my annual adventures in running my extremely low-tech summer camps for kids. Writing Camp wrapped last Friday and I only had two days to catch my breath before the start of Fashion Camp. Yes, yes-- it is beyond ironic that I associate my name with anything having to do with fashion, given that even on my best days my ensembles usually resemble a mash-up of Kurt Cobain and a corduroy and Birkenstock addicted seventies lesbian. Me running an operation that even suggests I know how to put outfits together is on par with George W. Bush running the country. And yet, year after year, the campers eagerly sign up, and many of them are returnees. more ›

A couple of weeks ago Warren and I went to see the movie Moon, sort of a thematic mash-up of that old classic Gaslight meets the Disney flick Parent Trap meets Castaway with a dash of A Boy and His Dog thrown in and some sub-themes that might’ve been derived from Bowie’s Major Tom and Elton’s Rocket Man. That I was able to gather all this from the film is a testament to my ability to multi-task. While it’s true I sometimes purposefully multi-task in the theater—yes, I can knit in the dark—in this case I found myself unintentionally and unhappily tri-tasking. Because the couple sitting next to us WOULD NOT SHUT THE FUCK UP. more ›

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