Hippy Ivy is back, and may be a recurring theme this summer so long as I can keep my tongue planted in cheek without getting a muscle cramp.
So last weekend there was fine weather here in NYC, so I went into Central Park for some sunbathing, meditation/contemplation/reading, and of course bikini-watching. Then I made my way to the Natural History Museum to take in the Hall of World Peoples and ponder that topic that has fascinated me for so long, namely the rise and fall of civilizations. On the way home, due to erratic subway service, I found myself riding a CitiBike up Park Avenue (note: I don’t live on Park Avenue). I spied a dapper gentleman in suit and hat, and recognized him as Gay Talese, who was walking with his wife, Nan, who’s big in the publishing industry. I smiled to myself and peddled on, until I realized I had a reason to go back and say hello.
A few months ago, I’d been at a small menswear event hosted by His Satanic Majesty Tom Mastronardi, and Talese was present. At the end of the night, Tom asked if I’d met Talese, and I had to admit to the negative. Tom said I should’ve given him a copy of my mini-book “The Disengage,” and offered to present one to Talese, as he was off to have dinner with him.
So there on the Avenue, looking considerably less stylish than I was at the party, with CitiBike and backpack, I circled back and introduced myself to Talese and asked if he’d had a chance to read my little story. He didn’t recall receiving it, and said he was writing a book and never read anything while working (most writers don’t). But he and his wife were quite delightful. As I bid them goodbye, Talese said, “By the way, you look great,” which was an unexpected and somewhat hilarious surprise. I was dressed in yet another paisley buttondown, sleeves rolled up, with white Levi’s cutoffs.
I’m sure it was the paisley, and that he would have said the same about Woody, or anyone wearing one of the shirts below. Or even those RL five-pockets. — CC