There's a lot of men of a certain age writing articles of a certain form, each augustly believing his own journey through the age and time is the definitive one. Or at least the representational one.
Most of them are giant navel-gazing snoozefests, and you start to wonder how we became so self-obsessed, and how for all our self-obsession we still know so little about ourselves, and more importantly, anyone else.
Here's your reward for trekking through the dreck: a sweet baby of a piece from a guy who doesn't even call himself a writer. A famed restauranteur from NYC (you know, those places you read about but could never afford), Brian McNally has this piece in the April Vanity Fair. (Not the current one with Madirtbag on the cover, the one with Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. Though their article about them - and other female comedians -is a terribly written piece, unfortunately.)
McNally's feature is a piercing ray in a bloated field. My thanks to Graydon Carter (really, we don't care what you do with your hair) for printing it. Read it.
Yep, pretty good stuff. Although he navel gazes to the limited degree that he can actually see it.
ReplyDeleteI suspect he'd be a good candidate for that TV ad "Touch of Grey" men's hair touch up formula. Seems like he had no shortage of nubile ladies awaiting his return according to his account.
Well, I enjoyed it, but from a different perspective. I live in Saigon. And the story was sent to me by a friend in New York. I sinply wish Mr. McNally would start a restaurant here so I can hang out with Madonna.
ReplyDeletehttp://wildwildeastdailies.blogspot.com/2008/03/your-man-in-saigon-ii.html