I’m in love. Yesterday night, I found a new glorious man to celebrate – wise, graceful, funny, compassionate and TALL – Bill de Blasio, the new mayor of New York, who was on Jon Stewart. Be still my beating heart – two of the finest men on planet earth, together. If Paul McCartney had walked in, I would have passed out. To hear de Blasio talking about raising taxes on the very wealthy to improve early childhood education and make sure all children have a chance … OMG. Fine fine fine.
And of course, as a citizen of the city of Toronto … well, let’s shed a tear for what we endure here – a man who also, for some incomprehensible reason, is called a “mayor.”
Went across town to visit my daughter and her boy yesterday – and to spend time not just with them but with Eli’s dad, Thomas, who is more or less in residence. Is it possible that one member of my immediate family is going to have a normal home life? They looked impossibly like an ordinary nuclear family. Imagine. What a thrill. Eli and I spent quite a bit of time on the floor playing with little cars, which are fun to push around and vroom but mostly to throw into the closet.
Came home to finish reading such an interesting library book – “Madness, Rack and Honey,” essays by poet Mary Ruefle – that I had to order it from Amazon, so I can re-read slowly. It’s a dense, quirky exploration of creativity and life in a wonderfully original voice. I’m also reading a spectacular book that I bought at the Moth event in NYC – a compilation of true Moth stories, as told during Moth storytelling events, each one moving. Highly recommended.
And … I don’t know why this matters so to me, but it does, because the witch hunt aspect is disturbing. Here’s a superb and fair-minded analysis of the Woody Allen accusations that puts the matter to rest.