I want to preface this post by saying that I have known Morley Safer (and loved him)  since I was 10 years old. That’s much longer than I have known and loved my own husband. You’ll have to read down if you want to know more about that.

Read It

Built of Books: How Reading Defined the Life of Oscar Wilde

Built of Books: How Reading Defined the Life of Oscar Wilde, by Thomas Wright.  Oscar Wilde fans, dig in!

Wear It

This metallic gold top was cool with jeans and brown espadrilles. I bought it in Chicago at a vintage store in Wicker Park. I love the color and the Stix Baer and Fuller tag inside, which reminds me of an uncle who once paid a very steep price for his forgetfulness. He packed the trunk for vacation and left my aunt’s cosmetics bag sitting in the garage. Conveniently, they discovered it missing just about the time they passed her favorite St. Louis department store, Stix Baer and Fuller. There she replaced her entire cosmetics and skin care regimen. Cha-ching! I’ll bet he never made that mistake again.

Reading in Speedway's Meadow Wood Park, which also has a great walking track.

Know It

When I was a teenager watching CBS’s 60 Minutes, I used to dream of marrying an erudite man like Morley Safer. Through an odd twist of fate (just joking!) we never met, but he’s still a close runner up to my husband. Who knew that Morley Safer and Kurt Vonnegut were good friends? My husband and I visited the new Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library in Indianapolis this afternoon and watched a taped interview of Mr. Safer, clad in his trademark pink-gingham shirt, speaking of Mr. Vonnegut. The Indianapolis-born novelist was famous for calling the 60 Minutes reporter at home on Sunday evenings after the 7 p.m. broadcast.

When Morley answered, Kurt would exclaim, “Fantastic!” That said, Vonnegut would hang up. Safer would immediately call him back, hoping to hear more. But the taciturn author never wanted to expound. He had said all he intended to say on the matter.

So much of life is spent making and listening to a lot of blah, blah, blah that would not be missed if it were left unsaid. It’s tiresome sometimes, isn’t it? Something tells me I would have liked Vonnegut very much–because secretly, I fantasize about going on a verbal strike, uttering no more than is essential to get things done and maintain friendly relations like the Carmelite nuns I first heard about as a kid. The trouble is people who don’t say much receive very little regard. If you don’t say much, I guess in our culture, you don’t know much.

And yet, when you read someone like Kurt Vonnegut you can see the underpinnings of thought mined in silence. In just a few words, Vonnegut could capture a feeling/thought process/scene from life that was better felt than told. Obviously, at some point, he shut his mouth and just listened to others, or the noise in his head, or observed what was happening very, very carefully. What an afternoon! Three men I adore in the same room together. Be sure to visit the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library if you’re ever in Indianapolis. They are a fledgling organization and need money to expand their work.

Fashion In Fiction

Perhaps Kurt and I differ a little on this subject...






























This makes me feel so much better about the little hovel where I write. Here is a replica of Kurt Vonnegut's office at the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library in Indianapolis. It looks dreadful on the spine! Notice the photo above with a picture of him working in his real office.