The Eight Day Week

The New York Observer is somewhat affectionately called"the Pink Rag" in my household, though not everyone has felt the same way about this celebrity-cult shmate. Years ago, I soundly criticized their columnist, Nicholas von Hoffman, for his misreading of American history and literature when he wrote about the "gentleman's society" of mid-19th century America.

Rags turn to riches though, and frogs to princes. In my eyes, the Observer has redeemed itself, permanently. Sara Vilkomerson (assisted by the able Meredith Bryan) writes the tarty Eight-Day Week column for this paper, recently converted by its new owner to tabloid format. I was asked by one of the able public relations agents handling my affairs to call Ms. Bryan about my lecture that occurred on July 22nd at Green-Wood Cemetery. As you will read below, I indeed stopped by the editorial offices of this journal, to drop off a complimentary copy of my book as well as copies of the foregoing explanatory material.

Meredith stepped out from her cubicle and greeted me pleasantly, a tall, straight blonde-haired young woman, stylishly dressed on her undoubtedly modest emolument from her employer. A hard look in her eye for such a young person, despite a pleasant smile and an appropriate disposition towards me. Probably only months out of Skidmore or some such, Meredith is now accustomed to dealing with hard people, and PR floggers are the titanium of their class.

I don't think Meredith knew what to make of me, with my long hair and shorts and bicycle helmet and seat dangling from my backpack. The intellectual component of von Hoffman's article and my response may not have struck much of a chord on her keyboard. Not to worrry: it's the process I enjoy. But here's to Meredith: she and her co-columnist carved me up with the expertise of a sushi-counterman. Now I can die happy: I've been roasted to a crisp in The Eight-Day Week.