It is a very September-like Sunday afternoon: partly cloudy, breezy, cool. I have three racks of ribs on the grill that should take most of the day to cook.
There wasn't much in the paper today. Once again, The New York Times has reviewed a book--two, actually*--by a poet (Juan Felipe Herrera) I've never heard of. In this instance, however, I am willing to agree --I just don't know enough about what is going on. After reading the review, I am eager to become familiar with Herrera's work. The fact that Stephen Burt doesn't quite know what to make of the poet is recommendation enough.
Having nothing better to do today than tend the ribs, scribble a bit, and use the big hemlock as the "still point of the turning world," I think I will make this post a running commentary.
Dinner will be about 6, if you are feeling carnivorous. If not, we also have corn on the cob, salad, and pecan pie.
3:52: I had to put a little orange juice on the ribs to keep them moist. Otherwise, all is well.
4:12: Were there a contest for the (consistently) worst Sunday book section** in a metropolitan American newspaper, I would pronounce it a tie between The Detroit Free Press and The Grand Rapids Press.
No wonder newspapers are going out of business.
4:36: The ribs will be finished a bit more quickly than I anticipated. I am putting the secret sauce on now.
See the results, above.
*" 'Punk Half Panther' : For Juan Felipe Herrera, poetry is all about breaking down barriers," The New York Times Book Review, August 10, 2008, p. 20.
**I don't want to be unfair to the word "section." In neither case (Detroit Free Press or GR Press) is the book section a "section." They are both half-to-three-quarter pages of crap.