The Man Who Would Be Rod, Or . . .
February 23, 1992
San Francisco Chronicle
San Francisco, California
|
. . .
I got to Maxfield's a little early that Friday. I ordered a Stoli and studied Parrish’s painting of the Pied Piper that hangs over the bar. I've never been a big Maxfield Parrish fan, but he did have a way with light, gotta give him that. I was about half lit when I heard the jangling collars, yips and yelps that indicated GT and his pack were approaching. There were a half-dozen including GT. They were all editors and staff writers or some such at local magazines or newspapers. All were painfully hip. A long time ago, one of them wrote a 500-word piece for Rolling Stone on "Whatever Happened to the Cowsills?" They all talked at once, trying to out-clever each other with their hipness and flipness and cunning obliqueness. They reminded me of that line from Gilbert and Sullivan: "You hold yourselves like this, you hold yourselves like that. By hook or crook you try to look both angular and flat." . . .
. . .
|
|
