Two days before 55 of our founding fathers wrapped up the first Constitutional Convention, they…
adjourned to a tavern for some rest, and according to the bill they drank 54 bottles of Madeira, 60 bottles of claret, 8 of whiskey, 22 of port, 8 of hard cider and 7 bowls of punch so large that, it was said, ducks could swim around in them. Then they went back to work and finished founding the new Republic.
That’s from The Joy of Drinking by Barbara Holland, which sounds like a mighty fine book. Holland has also written of the wonders of naps and bacon, so she’s got the right perspective on these things, as far as I can tell. (And she’s 70. You go, Barbara.)
Meet the latest fan of the Los Angeles Public Library, Bookduck. She and her boyduck (that’s his name, from what I can tell) have decided that the shallow fountains in front of downtown’s central library are, yes, just ducky. They are not shay about asking for snacks — in order to get this photo, I had to offer her my fingers, which she tried and rejected.
There are many pigeons and swallows in the garden plaza in front of the library, but these may be the first ducks to really hang out — library staff were charmed, and chased them around with a camera of their own.
The green room, LA Times Festival of Books: Nobel prizewinner Eric Kandell wears a red bowtie; Tim Gunn is immaculate in a navy suit. Michael Connoly sits shyly in a corner; Coe Booth takes a patio table in the sun. Reza Aslan is at the center of a large circle of admirers. James Ellroy is tall as always, but thinner than he used to be. Tina Louise has written a children’s book; her hair is red, but not as red as it used to be when she was Ginger.
With any luck, I’ll be able to blog today from the festival.
Meanwhile:
- YA stars
- first novels panel & more
- Charles Phoenix
- tips for surviving the festival
- a mystery fan reports
- a right-wing take on yesterday’s blogging panel
- a report with photos
And Dave Bullock is taking amazing photos of Coachella. Almost like being there.
An editor who knows the difference between a Fender and a Strat. Rock.
Oh to have been in Pasadena this morning at the Rose Parade.
Today the LA Weekly reports that beloved, above-reproach labor leader Miguel Contreras, who dropped dead unexpectedly at the age of 52 last year, happened to do so at a South LA massage parlor-cum-house-of-ill-repute.
And why didn’t anybody hear about this sooner? Because Los Angeles’ political leaders — including both mayoral candidates, mid-campaign — showed up at the emergency room and did major spin control. There was no autopsy, which can’t quite be explained, and which isn’t quite typical. Chances are there will be, at the very least, further investigation.
Adding kerfluffle to intrigue, today happened to be the last day of Harold Meyerson’s longtime tenure at the paper. Meyerson is an unabashed liberal (hear, hear!) but his predictable, knee-jerk leftism helped make the paper’s political coverage stale and unreadable. Like, for years. So on his last day, he sends a memo to the paper saying that they’ve sunk to a new low. And the new LA Weekly editor shoots back. LA Observed has the whole back and forth. Fascinating.
Despite the fact that Meyerson comes down against tabloidism, I can almost see Danny Devito playing him in LA Confidential: 2010.
There was a short time when I knew I was leaving LAist and the former editor, Jason, had changed his mind about taking the reins. I wasn’t sure what would happen to the site. Then noted blogger Tony Pierce lost his Buzznet job and I thought he’d be great and the parent site Gothamist thought he’d be great and, to the joy of all involved, he is great. And here Tony is just days earlier, talking about his dream job, in a video by the excellent Rob Takata. The dream? Basically, editing LAist.
