I was a selfish child. Make that a self-centered child marked by a self-possession that I wore as a kind of armor against difficult parents and, later, other difficult authority figures. When I was 13, I had a teacher who told us students that selfishness was the root of all evil, the vice from which all others emanate. (She herself was a horror who should’ve practiced what she preached.)
But there is a fine line, I understood, between selfishness and self-possession in service of self-preservation. Recently, one of the columnists I edit wrote a piece in which he observed that there’s a reason that airlines ask you to put on your own oxygen mask first in case of an emergency: You cannot help others if you yourself are in harm’s way.
Which brings us to the new era – actually the cyclical era – of America First. ...
Read more
Read MoreInitially, President Donald J. Trump was confused. Why the Women’s March?, he tweeted. Didn’t we just have an election? (Yes, Mr. President. And here’s the rebuttal. A representative democracy is not a one-and-done deal but more of an ongoing conversation.)
Later, Trump – or his handlers – tweeted that this was democracy at work blah, blah, blah. But he wasn’t alone in wondering: What gives? Why march, particularly in the United States, where women enjoy such a high standard of living?
Some women, presumably Trump supporters, were mystified, too. ...
Read more
Read MoreIn some ways, The New York Times is the same old Times, getting its knickers all wet at the prospect of Roger Federer’s return from a back injury and, no doubt, a possible Stuart Restoration, or something. The Times has already carried two Feddy articles, one announcing his return and the other exploring how he’s looking to old rival Rafael Nadal for inspiration in his comeback. Given that Rafa hasn’t been the same player since his 2013 return and that his rivalry with Novak Djokovic – or, for that matter, Nole’s rivalry with Fed – has been longer and more exciting, you have to feel that the Old Grey Lady and Feddy Bear are both grasping at straws.
These are not the best of times for The Times. The Paper of Record “backed the wrong horse” – to switch our sports metaphors – in the election, as many of us did.
Since then, its coverage has been at times overwrought, as if it were determined to be a journalistic Cassandra, preaching and prophesying when many don’t care. ...
Read more
Read MoreYears ago, I had a dream job with Gannett Inc. as senior cultural writer. One of my beats was to cover the big arts stories of the day and so it was that I found myself on one occasion interviewing Richard Cragun the American-born star of the Stuttgart Ballet and one of the finest male dancers of the 20th century.
In those days, Gannett recycled our stories in its many publications, and my Cragun piece found its way into one of the tabloids overseen by a favorite editor who was fond of the Daily News and New York Post. It was with some sheepishness then that I handed the publicist a copy of the publication with the words “Ballet Hunk” in the headlines. I needn’t have worried. He was thrilled.
I covered most of the great “ballet hunks” of the 20th and early-21st centuries ...
Read more
Read MoreThe latest salvo in the culture war that is surely to deepen under President Donald Trump was fired by Meryl Streep in a graceful and grace-filled speech at the Golden Globes.
I’m not a fan of people using award shows as a bully pulpit, coming of age as I did in the 1970s when such Oscar speeches (think Vanessa Redgrave and an absent Marlon Brando) were a kind of cliché. I’m not a fan of gesture politics like refusing to stand for the National Anthem. I’m not even a fan of Meryl Streep, a sometimes mannered actress (“Sophie’s Choice,” “The Hours”) who’s nevertheless capable of great work (“Marvin’s Room,” “The Manchurian Candidate”).
But Streep – a hard-working craftswoman who has paid her dues – offered a master class in a performer giving a political speech by turning the concept of the politician as performer inside out. ...
Read more
Read MoreWell, we’ve rung out the old and rung in the new, and most of the people I’ve spoken with said it should only have happened sooner. (Or as one clever poster put it, “2016 – Y U no gone?”)
For him and others personally, professionally and publicly, 2016 was an “annus horribilis,” to borrow Queen Elizabeth II’s description of 1992 (the Charles-Diana separation, the Windsor Castle fire, don’t ask).
Certainly, 2016 would give many a year a run for their infamous money. The Zika virus, the continuing Syrian and refugee crises, terrorism, a rash of deaths among the greats of sports (Muhammad Ali) and entertainment (Prince) punctuated by the one-two punch of that sublime mother-daughter act, Debbie Reynolds and Carrie Fisher ...
Read more
Read MoreNetflix’s “The Crown” – the Brits’ most addictive-as-potato-chips offering since “Downton Abbey” – tells the story of Queen Elizabeth II (Claire Foy) from her days as a happy wife of a dashing naval lieutenant on the isle of Malta through her ascendance to the British throne on the death of her father, George VI.
Like many good narratives, its absorbing juiciness derives from familial tensions – between husbands and wives, mothers and daughters and, especially, siblings. But its real subject is one that plagues the contemporary world and whose misunderstanding, I fear, will cost the world dearly as it veers toward demagoguery – the nature of leadership. ...
Read more
Read More