| All of which leads
us toward dangerously conservative alleyways, of course — might
more truths be found in our parents’ libraries, if their record
collections yield such treasures? — but refusing to take delight
where one finds it is the most conservative impulse of them all, and
the most pernicious. So all I have to say to you this week is that
there’s quite a bit of delicious tension in the air, and a gorgeous
vinyl LP by Johnny Hartman is drifting through the living room like
a cool, blessed breeze, and I may or may not be able to write a new
update next week, because I’ll be somewhere overseas. I’ll
do what I can do, but I can’t promise anything. In the event
that I am absent, may I recommend that you spend the time you might
have spent here with the debonair Mr. Johnny Hartman? It worked for
me. |
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