Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Wined and Cheesed
I wonder if "wine and cheese" is still a phrase capable of turning an undergraduate Creative Writing major into a corner-sitting onanist. It certainly was in my day, when the prospect of sitting in one of those vertiginous amphitheatres watching some middle-aged drunk read from a copy of his fifteen-year-old chapbook from a podium in semi-darkness caused me to turn irreparably inward.
"There will be wine and cheese." That phrase has all the harrowing smily-faceness of the seventies. Forget the Brady Bunch. Don't bother with Watergate. Put Altamont aside. The seventies' was the time of Creative Writing and wine and cheese. It was the time for pretending the pot-addled sixties radical was a world-weary prize-fighter. It was the time to put a beige-suited bore up for a three-day weekend at the Holiday Inn. God knows the Department Chair had learned by '76 not to give the guy his phone number.
Wine and Cheese. Oh, yes. Oh, no.
"There will be wine and cheese." That phrase has all the harrowing smily-faceness of the seventies. Forget the Brady Bunch. Don't bother with Watergate. Put Altamont aside. The seventies' was the time of Creative Writing and wine and cheese. It was the time for pretending the pot-addled sixties radical was a world-weary prize-fighter. It was the time to put a beige-suited bore up for a three-day weekend at the Holiday Inn. God knows the Department Chair had learned by '76 not to give the guy his phone number.
Wine and Cheese. Oh, yes. Oh, no.
# posted by Fredwemyss @ 12:48 PM 
