This Much is Tru

Things fall apart.  That may be a title devised by Chinua Achebe, but it's as good a description of the life of Truman Capote as I know.

Brave Little Oysters (Etc.)...

You know, there are a lot of oysters at the National Gallery.  I mean in the paintings; we were there this past weekend, My Cousin the Architect and I, and while we enjoyed our lunch in the Garden Café, sadly the otherwise excellent buffet was oyster-free.  But in the Dutch still lifes, and even tucked here and there amid the Renaissance banquets?  Those bad boys are everywhere.

Splish Splash

As summer gives way to fall, it seems time to indulge in a little fantaisie orientale, don't you think?

Pretty Pierrot

Yesterday, she would have been 110.

Ev'rybody Dance Now!

For no good reason other than it's a suddenly autumnal Sunday morning: ladies and gentlemen - the Penguin Dance.  Apparently this was a thing.

Severe Clear

A day so perfect, so crystalline; one on which there's truly not a cloud in the sky.  That's what it was.

Still Reigning

Well, she's done it, and if it the "it" is simply having lived this long, the manner in which she's done it comes as close as I can imagine one human's efforts could to actually deserving the global outpouring of praise and sheer affection that's coming her way.

See the Man

I don't believe I'd thought of Martin Milner, in anything more than the most fleeting of ways, in 20 years, at least until the sad news of his journey to Fabulon came out over the weekend.

Remember, Remember...

...The sad story of poor, ill-fated Juror Number Eight. Fashion's edicts are ignored at your peril.

Home and Dry

I've always liked the duality of this song - the usual glossy Pet Shop Boys beat, here augmented with scenes of arty anomie, contrasted with what amounts, in this context, to a frankly sentimental lyric.

What's My Wednesdays? # 13: Two Curvy Ladies

I don't know about you, but I seem to know a startlingly large number of people who are Jayne Mansfield fans - serious ones, too,  not just glancingly nostalgic ones.

Had to Get Away...

So I pulled a Bueller today.  I decided mid-morning that, given the choice of staying in Cubeland at Golden Handcuffs or heading home, napping with the dogs, and taking a swim in the condo pool (not, perhaps, quite as scenic as the one shown here in a fetching snap by dear Mr. Slim Aarons), and given that it is already the last week of summer, I really had no choice at all.  Off to the Metro it was.