Halloween

I got sick on Halloween; even the cab driver scolded me for going home at midnight! But I did muster the energy to conjure an apparently completely unrecognizable Liz Taylor and hit the town very softly with the Bull Market, David the Gnome, Swift the Fox and various other revelers. Saw some good music through my sniffles but didn't much fancy back-staging it(never my scene in the best of health.) I don't think there's another situation that makes me quite so uncomfortable, in fact.

In other news: Just finished Ladies and Gentlemen the Bronx is Burning, which I fancy would be pretty dull to anyone who lived through it but an awfully fun survey for those of us inclined to romanticize 70s New York. Now working my way through An Untold Story, Elliott Roosevelt's memoir. It's absolutely fascinating, given what a trustworthy narrator he seems to be, a revelation. He wrote the book as a means redressing the mythologies he saw growing up around his parents' marriage: to hear him tell it, Eleanor, for all her worthiness, was a cold, remote narcissist, despised by her children; Franklin a loving father hungry for love. The portraits of FDR's relationships with Lucy Mercer and Eleanor with her lady friends are especially vivid.