D.H. Lawrence’s novel is more famous for its sexual content than its quality of writing. Hey, fine by me.

So as not to overshadow this still-respectable work of literature, I will present my review of the 1993 BBC miniseries as a pictoral essay. Read the rest of this entry »

I called Citibank to activate a new credit card. An older guy answered.

“Welcome to Citibank, this is Leonard Bernstein. Can I have your first and last name as it appears on the card, please?”

“Liza with a Z?”

Sigh. “Yeah.”

“Like how Liza Minelli spells it?”

“Yeah.”

“Well my name is Leonard Bernstein, so I know a little about music, if you know who he is.”

“I do.”

“And where are you calling from today?”

“Boston, Massachusetts.”

“Boston! The Boston Pops are very familiar with Mr. Bernstein’s music.”

“Indeed.”

“Boston is important to my family, you know my daughter went to Harvard Law school. Then she married a cardiologist from Chicago where they live now, but he took her out of the courtroom and into the hospital because in February she will be delivering to us three beautiful triplets.”

“Wow, triplets.”

“Yes, my wife of 32 years has left me to go live with my daughter while she is expecting as has the wife of my son-in-law, which means that the two men are now bachelors but we are very much looking forward to this.”

“That’s great.”

“Well I’m very sorry that the Boston Red Sox did not go to the World Series against the Chicago Cubs this year.”

“Oh, yes.”

Then he told me about a card protection plan.

“So, where are you guys from?”

“He’s from here,” I said, “and I’m from Jersey.”

“Jersey, huh? 201, 551, 609, 732, 848, 856, 862, 908, 973.”

“What about the new ones? There’s 856…” My mom’s area code since she moved is 856.

“856, replaced 609.”

Close enough.

“And where are you from?” he asked Dan.

“Newton.”

“The Garden City.”

I was getting into this. “And I’m from the Garden State.”

“That’s right,” said the cab driver. “Exit four, NJTP.”

“Exit three,” I corrected, but I was wrong — it is exit four.

“You from Cherry Hill?”

“Close to that.”

“I requested four Beatles songs on this station,” he said, “but none of them have come up yet.”

“Which songs?” Dan asked.

“Rain, I’m Only Sleeping, I Am the Walrus and Run For Your Life. Do you know any of those songs?”

“Yeah,” Dan said.

“Rain, 3:02, I’m Only Sleeping 3:01, I Am the Walrus 4:37, Run For Your Life 2:18. What was the first Beatles song over three minutes?”

“Tomorrow Never Knows,” Dan guessed.

“Ticket To Ride,” he said. “3:12.”

The fare came to 6.50, but I gave him 10.00.