We’re too old to be sleeping on a couch at family gatherings. Is that the plight of the youngest? Or the plight of the solo traveler? Our back is still tightened up — the dreaded back spasms that keep ballplayers on the sidelines. Landing on the DL is the perfect time to do some reading. One thing, though, if you visit the library, it might not be your parents’ book depository. Brooklyn Rail has an interview with Frederic Tuten to pass your time. Or you can read about Tolstoy’s disciples. Christian anarchy is the perfect lead in to a book that scandalizes the middle classes. After those doses, don’t forget about your Modernism! Massage anyone? — Andrew Geer

The Only Part That Works

Weekend warriors beware. You may not want to go out in the boat with us. It was another three hour tour that ended with us being towed in from the farthest reaches of the Cape Romain Wildlife Refuge. In a strange (but not too unlikely considering the geography) twist, our savior was our elementary school headmaster. His wife was with him, and she used the opportunity to tell us to have our mother to call her to catch up sometime. Alas, we returned to the city for another week of crunching numbers. Our trip went unfinished, but David Foster Wallace’s final novel is being released on April 15. We wonder if the margin notes in his old books are as relevant as ours. Is The Atlantic full of commies? B.R. Meyers thinks Freedom is mediocre at best. Mark Taylor has a prescription for colleges and universities. Christopher Hitchens knows it’s the thought that counts, but, in the face of death, he still ain’t changing his mind. We wish him the best. Now, back to work so we can replace our motor. – Andrew Geer

In Other News, Football Is Back!

We’re online, which means we’re on Facebook. Be our friend and you’ll be notified every time a new thought pops into our sick and twisted brainskulls. How fun! Of course, anyone can publish on the good ole WWW; the trick is in the quality. Gawker, known more for its trick than its quality, pulls a fast one on all of us with a booklist that’s actually worth checking out. Google is doing something controversial, imagine that, this time they are vocally interpreting famous works. All right, professors, get off the Internet and write! Here’s how. If you are a white male, then you might get a review in the Times. Or is this attitude just sour grapes? ‘Fraid so. Instead of bitching, read a new book about Cecil B. DeMille. You have five new notifications. — Andrew Geer

Hot Off The Presses!

We stopped by Barnes & Noble, To Kill A Mockingbird was in the “New Fiction” section. Now, considering our locale (South Carolina), this provides an opening for many conventional Southern jokes. You have the illiteracy joke and the racism joke. Well, not all of us are illiterate and not all of us are racist. Anyway, older books and writing come back to us this Tuesday. The Preppy Handbook returns. Recently deceased, Frank Kermode had a love affair with poetry. More on poetry with an interview with Mark Strand. Camille Paglia wonders what the next big idea will be; postmodernism is dead?! And Isaac Asimov wonders what happened to the big ideas of the past. Enjoy your Twosdey –  Andrew Geer

Sincerely Not Sharp Dressed Men

Every time we listen to ZZ Top we think of an earnest cover band. Not sure why: we like ZZ Top, and we’ve never seen a “tribute” band to them. Maybe it’s because there used to be a late night commercial for Carey Hilliard’s restaurant in North Charleston, SC, that featured peppers in beards, fedoras and sunglasses spinning guitars. Go figure. Anyway, on with Thursday’s Flurry… Joshua Braff tells NPR his guilty pleasure. Tim O’Brien tackles the challenge of writing the imaginative story. Speaking of cover bands, a new book examines the history of the search for fame. Glenn Stout has a rollcall of The Best American Sportswriting of 2010.  The Vonnegut library opens in Indy. Franzen returns to the family quest in Freedom. And then there’s this, for the reader who has everything. We gotta lotta nice links, yah. — Andrew Geer