Liars and Saints

  "Deadwood" was about inventing democracy; "Somebody Somewhere" is about inventing a family. Sam, our hero, has returned to Manhattan, Kansas, to try to live. She can't tolerate her day job, so she quits, and she moves in with her gay best friend, Joel. Evenings involve homemade martinis in a cramped living room; it's called "the honeymoon suite." Joel and Sam entertain each other with "Pound It or Pass," in which they evaluate the sexual desirability of strangers. These two don't share a bed, but they sleep with their doors open, and they call out to each other before shutting off various lights. "I think if I married," says Joel, "I wouldn't wear white. Because you gotta keep 'em guessing. I'd have the song 'Gloria,' by Laura Branigan, as my accompaniment, and you would be the lead singer." "No, no," says Sam. "You don't do Judy. You don't do Barbra. And you don't d...

  Judy Blume recently shilled for two picture books -- within the pages of the NY Times. One, "Bark, George," is about marching to the beat of one's own drum. A little dog, George, keeps meowing, so his mother takes him to the vet. There, George coughs up a cat. He won't start barking, however; he quacks like a duck. (And he coughs up a duck.) He moos like a cow (and then he coughs up a cow). This builds to a twist, which is deeply satisfying if you've ever tried to control a small child's behavior. Another book, "Mother Bruce," talks about life's uncertainty. A grumpy gourmand bear (Bruce) acquires goose eggs; he plans to make a feast. But the eggs crack open, and the little geese "imprint" on the bear. Bruce never becomes a sterling parent, but he does eventually purchase a time-share in Miami so that he can assist with seasonal migration. There, a little turtle becomes strongly attached to one particular goose--so the goose gets a ta...

 We tried French fries with Josh; he calls them "fee fries!" and he'll eat one or two before growing bored. My guru recommends direct instruction. "You have to remind your son,  chew, chew, chew, and swallow ." (I think of the Land of Chewandswallow, the meatballs raining from the clouds, the sun as a giant pad of butter.) Josh gets a little embarrassed if he is coached--but then I also hear him encouraging himself. "Chew! Chew! Chew!" Bunker Hill, for me, was carrots. "Steam them," said my guru. And my son saw the carrots as a kind of rat poison. "Roast them, cut them to resemble French fries; this is the key to success!" And I did this, and my son never deigned to touch even one orange strip. Briskly, my guru told me to move on. It was time to work with proteins. A "meat" ball is your friend--because you can persuade your child that he is eating beef when in fact he is eating little bits of mushroom. So I'm told. I...

 James Taylor was institutionalized; he would look out his window and see a country road. This became the inspiration for "Country Road," which is a portrait of the artist as a young man. Take to the highway; won't you lend me your name. Your way and my way seem to be one and the same. I think of Taylor attempting to reach out to a poetic idol--like Walt Whitman. Following Whitman would be like following the highway, the "high" way, an elevated way of life. Mama don't understand it. She wants to know where I've been. I'd have to be some kind of natural born fool to want to pass that way again.... Taylor feels some pressure to choose a "conventional" life; rejecting security would be like choosing to wear a dunce cap. But Taylor really would like to be a "fool"; he would like to exist on the edge of society. He is guilty as charged. I can hear a heavenly band full of angels, And they're coming to set me free. I don't know n...

 The first number in a show just needs to set a tone; it can tell you a bit about the planet you're visiting, and it can communicate sexiness or humor or anxiety. With "All That Jazz," we don't really need to know much about "buckle shoes" and "rouged knees"; we just need to note Chita Rivera in a slinky gown, and we need to see her beckoning to us: Start the car.....I know a whoopie spot.... Where the gin is cold, but the piano is hot.... "Little Shop of Horrors" broadcasts its own artful silliness right away: Shang-a-lang.... Feel the sturm und drang in the air! And "Dear Evan Hansen" makes us worried, even though we're just witnessing a family breakfast in suburbia: Does anybody have a map? Does anybody happen to know how the hell to do this? I don't know if you can tell, but this is me just pretending to know. So where's the map? I need a clue. Because the scary truth is: I'm flying blind.... And I'm maki...

 I took him to the pediatrician for diaper rash.  This is often a fun trip because you get a little questionnaire:  Are you suicidal? How many times this past week have you struggled to get out of bed? How often do you drink until you pass out ? The questionnaire seems friendly, but I know its agenda: One wrong move, and you're going to need to take out loans to cover the lawyer fees and the sitter hours and the gasoline for the trip to the courthouse. My child screamed through his "rash visit," while the doctor gave me unneeded info in a chirpy voice: "Many little kids won't wear a face mask!" "It's possible to get strep  in your butt !" And the pediatric nurse tortured my child: She gave a balloon to his sister, but not to him. I thought this was stunning, like a final FUCK YOU. I had to chuckle as the inevitable fraternal/sororal fight began "picking up steam" in the parking lot. Who on Earth had decided that this particular woman ...

 Katherine Heiny has skills that make me think of Lorrie Moore: She moves from funny to sad in the span of two or three words. It's not crucial that a writer can make a reader laugh--but how nice it is when a sense of humor is part of the package. Heiny's new book, "Games and Rituals," has two toothbrushes on the cover. That's because the heroine of one story, the title story, has a preoccupation with toothbrushes. She has moved to New York to follow her boyfriend, even though this change means unpleasant "temping work." Her boyfriend insists on keeping his own apartment, and his wariness requires him to truck his toothpaste back and forth from his place to his girlfriend's place. The thought of purchasing a second toothbrush (a "travel" brush) just seems to be "too much." We can see where this relationship is headed. Heiny's heroine is a stand-in for anyone who recalls being adrift in "the twentysomething decade." (...