Today I'm reading Edmond and Jules de Goncourt's Journals, or pages therefrom. (NYRB, 2007).  Memoirs are about the only thing I want to read now, which is why I recommended Alison Bechdel's "Fun Home" the other day, because, without spoiling it, it's her memoir of growing up with a gay dad.  You know this about a few pages in, if you're like me, or the minute you start reading, if you're like smarter people maybe. It is so brilliant, the more so for being true.  As for the Goncourt brothers, their relationship works better than any of two men I've ever known.  They shared a mistress, an insane maid, writing, everything.

In a little while J and I are going to try and get into the screening of "Black White + Gray" at OutFest, the documentary on Sam Wagstaff and Robert Mapplethorpe. Sam was one of the best looking men ever.

Meanwhile I've been listening to this Israeli singer I found this morning.  His version of "Jesse" is worth a visit:

[ http://www.IvriLider.com/english ] 

And I'm throwing in a screen snap.  There he is, isn't he cute? Yes, this is my world this morning.  And yes, next to Milou that's Pat Buckley with her dog Beep at home in 1976, from Guy Trebay's article in the NYT.  As J. says, "My blood runs cold when I look at this picture."  And there's Cathy too.  And Daniel.  And the Chateau Frontenac.



And the Goncourts.  Why, it's like you're all here with me.  And all I did was crop out the Diet Coke cans.  Seriously. 

Listen to Ivri, throw it on your Iphone.  I know you have one.  After memoirs, there's only music.

EveryGoodBoy [DoesFine].