Ça ne change pas
Here's another helping of old prose. Perhaps it's a sign of mental inertia, but what I wrote in January 2003 about the American response to 9/11 still seems to hold very well. While it's true that more Americans are against our Iraqi misadventure than ever, I don't think that much ground has been gained in the understanding of foreign mindsets. Like the Italians, we appear to believe that the full measure of what's "foreign" can be found within the various regions of our own country, and that anything more foreign than a Yankee to a Texan is somehow no longer quite terrestrial.
Rereading my comments on an essay by Joan Didion, I'm reminded how quickly death makes one remote: John Gregory Dunne was still alive then - he had almost a year left to live. Surely my piece must be more than three and a half years old!
¶ I had something of a quiet big day today, never you mind why. But I did have an unusual stroll, from a financial printer near Grand Central to Lincoln Center. The Pulitzer Fountain at Grand Army Plaza, above, was just a bit past the half-way mark. That's Bergdorf Goodman beyond the trees.
