Tagged: adam gopnik

Poem: Shall I Stand?

Shall I stand On my feet Erect and perpendicular, an animated sculpture exposed to the wind and The desecration of public scorn? Shall I stand? Shall I, stalk-like, yearn for the sky — Or at least the ceiling, the plastered governor that dictates the limit Of our aspirations? Shall I? Or — and this would...

Poem: High Culture

Plato wrote about a cave Mr. Wren designed a nave: Would it be so wrong to sing a song Wearing nothing but a bright blue thong? Drama draws the geriatrics Attending matinee theatrics: Could we frankly say about a play It shan’t succeed if they won’t pay? King Tut’s remains have been a hit with...

Fast Food

On a recent scorching day, I was riding my bike to an appointment, feeling parched. I had an urge to drink one of those semi-frozen concoctions known on “The Simpsons” as a “squishy.” I’ve heard them called “slurpees” and “icees,” and I recall my notoriously strict anti-sugar parents allowing my brother and I to have...

Never Let it End

If it’s true that time flies when you’re having fun, then I’m frightened that my life will be over before I’m ready. Lately my days have been full — overflowing even — with challenging fun, with creativity, with laughter and beauty. I catch myself thinking, “I wish this would never end,” and I feel a...

Religious Wackos

Those crazy Iraqis seem to be having a hard time crafting a national constitution. The biggest obstacle, according to news reports, is that every religious sect there has its own agenda. The Sunnis want this; the Shiites want that; and the Kurds want everything else. What these people don’t understand is the crucial difference between...

Why Golf on Los Angeles Municipal Courses Takes Forever

When I play golf locally, it’s usually at a nearby Los Angeles County municipal park course in Griffith Park. What ought to be a pleasant walk among the tress and birds often feels like a death march through rush hour traffic. Four-hour rounds morph into six-hour trudges, and the joy of chasing a little white...

My Dad, One Year Later

Today is the one-year anniversary of my dad’s death. People who have lost loved ones often say, “I think about him every day.” Before losing my father Eugene, I was skeptical. Was it possible to think of someone every day who wasn’t present, someone with whom communication or any other form of interaction never occurred?...

Appropriations

Should any naive idealist still embrace the quaint notion that our country’s brief experiment in democracy fulfills the purpose of “representative government,” a cursory glance at the way the Appropriations committees of the United States Senate and House of Representatives operate will cloud even the sunniest outlook. How we, the tax-paying citizens of America, spend...

Poem: Song of the Misanthrope

Because the center of the universe can be located easily the anthem I pen is naturally of me: I did this and I did that, throw in a semi-automatic rat-a-tat-tat — and now you’ve got a song for radio, Which rhymes conveniently with “ho,” a word to which I’m well accustomed, unlike instruments I’ve never...