Tom Perrotta is a name I'll always notice; among his novels, "The Wishbones," "Election," "The Leftovers," and "Joe College" are my favorites. Perrotta's special skill is his ability to describe moments of mundane discomfort. We all live through these moments; we just don't commit them to the blank page. In the new novel, "Ghost Town," a young man, Jimmy, meets a stranger and bluntly concedes that his mother has just died. But then he thinks he sounds glib, so he offers a few sentences about his mourning. And he realizes that the sentences might be what they (in fact) are: nervous, meaningless throat-clearing. Life goes on. "Ghost Town" is set in Garwood (called "Creamwood"), NJ, in the 1970s. Everyone is white; everyone smokes cigarettes. A dispute might involve a schoolteacher and a hippie at the local McDonald's. "I understand your flat feet kept you out of Vietnam...." In this small...
To feel more "involved" in my community, I've been listing the suburban quirks that I hate the most. See below. *The blowout toddler birthday parties. This is an entire industry--I'm guilty of participating. You pay four hundred dollars to a slovenly stranger, so that he can produce oddly shaped bubbles from a dirty vat. The *kids* don't need this--the kids are fully entertained by a stick and a cardboard box. Whom is the "bubble man" really for ? *Our bookstore is closed on Mondays. I find this so profoundly irritating. Imagine if "Three Lives," in Greenwich Village, suddenly, inexplicably, reduced its hours of operation by one-seventh. It's absurd. *I have a new nemesis. Let me explain. A few years ago, the actor Zachary Levi made a billion enemies by suggesting that Gavin Creel's death was linked with Creel's decision to get the Covid vaccine. And Laura Benanti said, "I always knew Levi was an obnoxious bully. He made every...