Strolling through his Camden, New Jersey neighborhood in 1949, Howard Unruh killed 13 people in 20 minutes. He was a quiet guy, a World War II vet who lived with his mother; he could never explain his killing spree. Last week, he died. From his obituary: “Mr. Cohen fled to the roof of his apartment… as his wife, Rose, 38, hid in a closet and pushed their son Charles, 12, into another closet. Mr. Unruh shot Mr. Cohen in the back, sending him plunging to the street. He also shot Ms. Cohen, firing through the closet door, and Minnie Cohen, 63, the druggist’s mother, as she was trying to call the police from a bedroom. Charles Cohen was unharmed.” I get the meaning of that last phrase, but the line stayed with me. Charles Cohen, unharmed? Really?
1) “Women are working — in largely underpaid jobs that men have generally found to be beneath them (secretaries, nurses, grade school teachers). And what about all those much-touted Ivy-league educated mommies with the muscular earning power who opted out (the big story of only a few years ago)? Are they back in the trenches?”
2) “Shriver’s rank and privilege allow for this skewed report to raise the indignant fist higher in the air, but what is it really saying? Women’s lives still suck and now we’ve got to do it ALL. Rah. Rah.”
3) “The cultural changes — the change in the relationship between men and women, primarily with the man not being ‘the provider’ as in the past — are huge. It is a huge blow to the male ego in most cases, in my view, at least to men in my generation. They can’t handle it. They don’t understand their role any more. They don’t like doing too much ‘women’s work’ and find it demeaning, and it makes them feel unmanly. In many cases, they’ll do it when the spirit moves them, and then want praise for it…. Men seem to think not only should we work outside the home and make money, but also do the heavy lifting at home and be in charge of housework and children by default.”
Maria Shriver struck a nerve — but not, I suspect, the one in her happy headline. Thank you for your raw and angry letters. Here are excerpts from two of them:
1) I was told that teaching was an exceptional job for a woman because the vacation times matched those of my children. It mattered little that I graduated summa cum laude and even less that I was an accomplished instructor. It mattered most that I was a woman with children and that the teaching position fit that status."
2) What annoys me the most about women ‘working’ vs ‘not working’ is this: staying home with your children is not considered a job, even though, when you do leave the house to get what is deemed a respectable job, you have to hire someone to do the one you left behind.
I happen to love taking care of my children and my home; little in this world is more important to me. But life happens — divorce, recession, slump in the housing market — and before you know it, there I am, shoving my way through the subway turnstile, slugging it out 9 to 5 just to make ends come within 100 miles of each other.
Do people have worse problems? By far. But I would at least like to feel respected for the decision to stay home with my children when I felt they needed it most. It’s a job and it pays very well — just in a different currency.
In August, I raved about Canal House Cooking, Vol. 1, which became my go-to summer resource. Good call, as it turns out. Melissa Hamilton and Christopher Hirsheimer’s first effort has been named a finalist in The Tournament of Cookbooks. Their competition? Big time chefs like Thomas Keller and John Besh. Now I really can’t wait for Vol. 2. (If you don’t have Vol. 1, this is all meaningless, right? Solution: Get Vol. 1.)
Just what you want when you visit the Louvre — a McDonald’s burger, fries and a Coke. Well, soon you can chow down. Another good reason to love the d’Orsay.
What a film! Subtle characterizations, sophisticated dialogue, country houses to drool over, and a how-she-made-it plot that transforms gritty ambition into a noble calling. Need more convincing? Watch these.
Over the weekend, I took the junior member and some pals to The Highline. Yes, it’s great at night to watch sexual exhibitionists perform behind the uncurtained windows of The Standard Hotel, but there’s also great family-friendly fun in strolling, reading and just sitting in the Fall sun. (The snack bar is ‘Wichcraft.) Next field trip: up the Hudson to the Maya Lin earthworks art at Storm King.
U2 was playing across the river, but the place to be was Joe’s Pub, where another Irishman and some scarily accomplished pals played an hour-long set that goes right into my Ten Best Ever file. Willie Nile may be physically small, but he’s got a huge rock ‘n roll heart, and it was on full display — he started with power, passion, other-worldly harmonies and an irresistible beat, and then he put his foot on the gas and cranked it up. The Byrds, Dylan, U2, the Clash, and, at the end, the Ramones: this band channeled other greats while never losing focus on Nile’s special gifts. How good was it? A few hundred people screamed themselves hoarse, me happily included.
Reviewing The Gospel According to Coco Chanel: Life Lessons from the World’s Most Elegant Woman, I alerted you to a new film about her, "Coco Before Chanel”. It’s just opened in New York and Los Angeles, and the New York Times raves: “The film… bears less resemblance to a standard-issue biopic than to a novel by Émile Zola or Theodore Dreiser. With a mixture of brutal candor and tender sympathy, it charts the rise of an ambitious, difficult woman, taking note of the obstacles and opportunities offered by her time, place and circumstances.” Run to this one (in flats, not heels).
Some of you would like message boards on the site, some don’t. I don’t, for the simple reason that I don’t want to be a censor. Recently, the light bulb went on — Facebook can be the HeadButler.com message boards. So, each day, I’ll post the new piece — and any particularly compelling Short Takes — on the Head Butler page on Facebook. And after you “friend” Butler, you can have at it.
I wrote my review of the LeBron James memoir, Shooting Stars, the morning after Fox News, Drudge, Limbaugh and others of that ilk were having a field day over the beating of a white student by two African Americans on a St. Louis school bus. Police later decided this beating was not racially motivated — a fact of little interest to these pundits and networks. Why? Because dividing Americans by race is a core strategy in their campaign to de-legitimize Barack Obama.
My pledge, ever since I launched Head Butler in 2004, has been to keep politics off these screens; why did I write about “a few million aging whites who categorically demonize young black males as thugs but who don’t have a fraction of the character of LeBron James and his friends”? Because that, friends, is not a political observation. It’s a moral one. The sad fact: Very cynical people in the media are working stories like this without regard for the collateral damage that’s sure to come when some of those riled-up whites turn their anger on African Americans.
As a kid in the ‘60s, I got involved in the Civil Rights movement. As a journalist, I occasionally wrote about race (see the New York Times story about
the last lynching in Alabama). Now I believe I can be useful by endorsing a “shame and shun” policy — avoid media that promotes hatred, don’t buy products from companies that support these people, and call
hate speech by its rightful name.
I don’t intend to write about this often. But I refuse to hear "I want my country back" and pretend I don’t know what they’re talking about.
Girls Like Us: Carole King, Joni Mitchell, Carly Simon — and the Journey of a Generation is one of my favorite biographies, delivering eye-popping dish and sharp analysis. Now, for one night only, some great singers — Liz Callaway, Capathia Jenkins, Ann Hampton Callaway, Jessica Molaskey and Barbara Walsh — will sing the music of Carole, Joni, and Carly, and, with author Sheila Weller, discuss what they meant to their generation. Monday, October 5, 8 PM, at the Merkin Concert Hall in New York. Click for information and tickets.
"I requested the Lumix camera for my birthday. When I showed it around the party, everyone said, ‘Panasonic? Please…’ Which is what N. said too. But that Leica lens is incredible — it just blows everybody away."
Nature rules at this 250-acre paradise just 20 minutes from the city. But not for long — it’s the last weekend for the Edible Garden at the New York Botanical Garden. Kids can dig in the garden and forage in the woods. And there will be cooking demonstrations by Lidia Bastianich and Emeril Lagasse, among others. Click here for information.
I guess he didn’t hate that rave review. In his bread-and-butter note, he writes: “Started a new album. Songs coming fast and furious. Having a ball. Just played to 40,000 in Lisbon. Who says rock n roll can’t be fun? It’s a lot more than money and fame.”
American Express is sponsoring a contest for small, innovative businesses with a $50,000 first prize. I nominated Gustiamo.com, the Bronx-based, women-owned importer of high-quality Italian food. Before September 13th, Gustiamo needs 60 fans to second the nomination. (If you’ve ordered from them, you know they’re great; if not, would you take my word for it?) To add your support, click here. Bonus: If you endorse Gustiamo and also want to place an order, they’ll discount your bill by 30% and include a gift in your package. Magic word is: SHINE. Your discount will be reflected on your bill and credit card charge.
On Thursday, September 24th, we’re off to to Joe’s Pub (in NYC’s Public Theater) to see urban rocker Willie Nile. He’s been around forever, but he’s probably new to you — and his House of a Thousand Guitars is as exciting as anything you’ll hear this year. (Watch a video from the new CD. Click here for tickets.) Joining us? Send me mail.
A billion copies of Dan Brown’s 528-page thriller will be delivered to breathless customers on September 15th. “Should I do something about this?” I asked my wife. “No way,” she replied, remembering my dismemberment of page one of Brown’s last effort, The Da Vinci Code. Still, it is not a Butler’s right to deny guests what the cook has made for dinner. If you wish to pre-order “The Last Symbol” ($16.17, discounted from $29.95), click here. For the Kindle version, click here.
The reusable bottles that were supposed to be so much safer — and better for the environment — than disposable gourmet water bottles have just been revealed to contain Bisphenol-A (PBA). The company says the tainted bottles were all manufactured (and sold) before 2008. I don’t care — I’m removing my endorsement from the archives and will now seek a BPA-free alternative. If you bought one and want to contact SIGG, here’s the corporate info.
E.L. Doctorow’s Homer & Langley has been panned by the New York Times, but most book columns have been beating drums for it as one of the prizes of the Fall. Sadly, no. Doctorow is a god to me — once a great book editor, then a serious novelist, always on the smart side of every issue — but this chronicle of the Collyer brothers (the nutcases who filled their Manhattan townhouse with newspapers and junk) is thin and forced. Better move: read Ragtime.
