Training Day

                                                                                                     On a train from Williamsburg, Virginia to New York, New York, I had the following thought brought on by the man sitting opposite of me and my brother:

Is there anything more frightening than the sight of a staunchly middle-aged white man, wearing faded dungarees and an ill fitting, tucked in, button down shirt, who is just a touch too clean shaven (is that a fresh nick you see on his neck?), reading Catcher in the Rye?

I think not.

And here is evidence of that train journey.

 

I mean, it was touch and go there for a while, but eventually google and I saw things the same way.

 

The usefulness of google for those dark moments of the soul is still, I think, a matter to be debated by people of good will.

John Lennon on Orson Welles in an interview with Jann Wenner in 1970. How do you think old Orson felt about reading this in the pages of Rolling Stone?

 
                       
                                      "Poor old Orson, though, he was troubled. He goes on Dick Cavett and he's sort of, "Please love me, I'm a big fat man now and I've eaten all this food and I did do well when I was younger and I can act. I can direct and you're all very kind to me but at the moment I don't do anything."