Anyway, here's some of my haul:
The Gore Vidal book is like a scrapbook, filled with pictures (for people like me too lazy to read). He's someone I think I'd love to have dinner with, but then afterward, I'd probably realize he was kind of a drag. You know those people? Anyway, the book is kind of like that. He was pretty cute back in the day, no?
To round things out I got an old battered Fela Kuti cd, one I hadn't heard before. The case is being held by a rubber band. It's so good I'm half tempted to steal it...or at least the rubber band.
The book about Lucia Moncenigo bored me. I just wanted a way to escape to Napoleonic era Venice for a few hours, is that asking too much? I have not been rewarded enough. It hasn't left the floor since. The only interesting thing I found out there was that the Austrians dropped bombs carried by hot air balloons in 1849. How cool is that?
Much better is Patti Smith's Just Kids, though it demands more attention. Thankfully, as you might expect, she's a great writer. Still, you know I looked at all the photos first. I can't help it.
She recounts meeting her soulmate Robert Mapplethorpe quite accidentally.