She may have been the best female writer of her time — kudos to you if you can name one of her nine novels. Joan Schenkar was her devoted reader and friend. In the Paris Review, she makes you wish you knew her.

Escape. Into the Wild. Without regard to “consequences.” Sometimes it’s life-affirming; sometimes fatal; sometimes both. Maybe best to start with Sean Penn’s great movie and/or Eddie Vedder’s haunting music.

His last solo CD sold 900 copies in London, so on this solo effort, he’s assembled a group called SuperHeavy and taken a more…shall we say…supporting role. Is it anything? (Apologies for the commercial prologue.)

My wife’s sister has been married for 25 years. She and her husband re-upped at few years ago — at the Elvis chapel in Vegas, of course — and, last weekend, they did it again, this time at a Tara-like B&B on the Ohio River. Look back: Kentucky tobacco fields. Look over: Indiana. Mid-view: barges moving up-river. A horse and carriage delivered the bride. The "minister," an old friend, had online credentials.The ceremony was heartfelt and raucous, two words never before seen in a single sentence. During the reception, a half dozen guests marched in wearing Royal Family masks; the Queen of England led the conga line. After, on my brother-in-law’s deck, he told the joke of the night: "I asked a man how long he’d been married. He said, ‘Twenty years.’ I asked: ‘To the same woman?’ He said, sadly, ‘No. She’s changed.’" Kudos, Linda & John.

It’s called ‘In Spite of Ourselves.’ John Prine wrote it. He sings it with Iris DeMent. I can picture them singing it on a screen porch lit by fireflies.

King’s introduction to a new edition of Lord of the Flies is just breathtaking: "It was, so far as I can remember, the first book with hands — strong ones that reached out of the pages and seized me by the throat. It said to me, ‘This is not just entertainment; it’s life or death.’"

Heading out to see a 68-year-old rocker, you can’t help but ask yourself: Can he still do it? Last weekend, in a delightful bandbox of a New Jersey club, on the hottest day of the year and working under lights that added a few degrees, Garland Jeffreys proved he could — and then some. Working with a band of astonishing crispness, he rolled through his new CD, his greater hits and a golden oldie; he even jumped off the stage and sang on a table. It was a life-affirming, righteous performance — his wife, who has no doubt seen him perform before, jumped out of her chair and danced — and you won’t be wasting your time if you check his tour schedule to see if he’s coming your way.

It’s "Pumped Up Kicks," from Foster the People. Listen to it once and you’ll be its slave. Here is the real-world reference. You can download it here. This is an acoustic version, more personal, more gorgeous. And charming? Look how the drummer has taped his wallet to the drum head A reader responds:  “Fine, you've had your fun...now be kind enough to publish the antidote. I am 50 years old and simply cannot continue walking through my days thinking, humming or mindlessly singing aloud (at times performing jerky little shoulder shrugs to the beat, god help me). I would never have encountered this song if it weren't for Head Butler, so you get ALL the blame!”

From the blog of our friend Jane Chafin: Los Angeles parents (artists) with no health insurance, a sick child, a caring community. Want to help? Start here.

Sometimes a book can be a lifeline. Like…here.

"Lost hours and secrets too/ No one will find but you/ Falling is like brand new rain/ Places I have never been/ I thought these things would come to me/ Love is another country, and I want to go." That is Tift Merritt, from Another Country, and in a month when the national conversation is ugly, I find it heals.

No doubt you know of GiltCity.com, the site that sells luxury items and experiences at preferred pricing. What you may not know:  The blogs of Gilt City’s “Unlisted” site give you very savvy, very inside information about goods, services and experiences in New York (and, soon, more cities.) And now Head Butler will be appearing there, probably every Monday. Is it copy I’ve cut-and-pasted from this site? No, although sometimes I’ll surely be inspired to expand on ideas and reviews I’ve already shared here. As I was, in my first column, urging readers to see “Tree of Life.” To find me, click here. 

Where it’s playing. Why to go:

The soloist amazes me. Bet she’ll bring tears to your eyes too.

Kudos to those of you who picked up on Steve Lerner’s Sacrifice Zones: The Front Lines of Toxic Chemical Exposure in the United States when I reviewed it last fall. It has just won the Lillian Smith Book Award, the South’s oldest and best-known book award. (Previous winners include James Farmer, John Lewis, and Alice Walker.) “Sacrifice Zones” is an exhaustive chronicle of toxic chemical exposure in our country — if you want to get angry over something more substantial than the daily scrum on cable TV, here’s your book.