Or, “other than a crust that rises, what do you want on your tombstone?’”. I could go on. But I won’t! Last night, an old friend of mine gave a talk and a party for his new book.
The restaurant magnate-turned-humor author-cartoonist-and-still-also-restaurant-magnate was Anthony Martignetti, one half of Broome Street Hospitality (the other is his brother Tom), whose ventures (Southside, Brinkley’s, East Pole, Pizza Beach, The Palace… the list continues, I said ‘magnate,’ remember, which is fun word I don’t get to use lightly or often) my friends and I have been loitering, dining, drinking, and dancing in since college, surprised and delighted (as we say in the marketing trade) everyone by publishing "Deep Thoughts from a Shallow Grave: Epitaphs to Die For,” “a gloriously dark book filled with funny illustrations about life and death”.
The publisher, Rizzoli (NBD, only the coolest publisher I can think of) toasted the author at the Rand McNally bookstore in Manhattan’s South Street Seaport last night. Another author I admire, Isaac Fitzgerald (Dirtbag, Mass., How To Be A Pirate) hosted a discussion about the book followed by a Q&A followed by what I’m sure was a very fun party I was too tired to attend (having a one-year-old ironically leaves the body feeling every bit as tired as working at SNL, though with many less drunk celebrity stories and many more reads of “Goodnight Moon”).
Anyway, it was my first night out in what felt like a very long time, it was almost 70 degrees, and I was so happy to:
A) Stop cursing NYC after three months of winter, break out my much preferred spring jackets skirts, and pretend to believe it will never be winter again. (NOTE: I fall for this lie every single March, and am often left shivering on my way to a subway in a skirt and a “wouldn’t be funny if we needed a coat for function Reformation topcoat” as a result).
B) Celebrate Anthony who, along with being a first-time author, just happens to have recently gotten married and become a first-time father — he and his lovely wife welcomed their son just eight weeks ago! Spring, baby!
C) Have an IRL chat with Isaac, who was slated to do an interview for my pandemic podcast before my pregnancy eclipsed all things creative/I kept falling asleep in random places like a cat. (see poem below)
Cats, by Eleanor Farjeon
Cats sleep, anywhere,
Any table, any chair
Top of piano, window-ledge,
In the middle, on the edge,
Open drawer, empty shoe,
Anybody's lap will do,
Fitted in a cardboard box,
In the cupboard, with your frocks-
Anywhere! They don't care!
Cats sleep anywhere.
D) Substack friend Bess Kalb’s book “Buffalo Fluffalo” was there too! Go Bess!
WHAT I LEARNED FROM ANTHONY
No, you don’t need to achieve all your creative goals by 30.
He didn’t even start submitting his cartoons to the New Yorker until age 39, and was published a few years later, which helped lead to the feted book of the evening. (See the first one they chose below, which made me lol)
No, you don’t have to be just one thing.
My therapist has been trying to tell me this as a wrestle with, “but I have mom friends now,” vs. “But I thought I did comedy?” vs. “And I like art house A24 crap too?”. But somehow, it hits different to see someone confidently enter an entirely new arena while staying firmly planted in their current one.
Question emotional associations.
A comedic book about death? Whaaa? Admittedly, when I first got the invitation — and noted the publisher — assumed it was a somber photography book of actual graves. In the discussion with Isaac, Anthony explained that he doesn’t view death as necessarily sad, and it’s this refreshing levity/gallows humor that makes this book work so darn well.
Bookstores are great.
I mean, I knew this, but honestly hadn’t been in one in a while. Rand McNally is especially cool, and that one is in a charming cobblestone-flacked location by the actual sea, but any store of books will do. Books sell anywhere…(see cat poem above).
EOW Moments of Levity
Something to see: My husband and I both love, love, love a campy 80’s and 90’s movie, and when I got home last night I started watching “In Defense of a Married Man,” with Judith Light, Jerry Orbach, and a little boy who grew up to be in the Big Bang Theory. I’m not done yet, but so far it seems like The Undoing (married man has affair, mistress gets whacked, whats the wife to do!?) with less coats and much bigger hair.
Something to read: Obviously, I am going to say Anthony’s book, which I linked above. And then since I got some new subscribers while I’ve been away mom-ing (hi, thanks, and welcome!) catch up on some of my old Bacon Beacon pieces if you fancy.
Something to think about: I know global warming is, like, so bad, but if someone ran for Mayor of New York City on a “No More Winter” campaign, gosh it would be hard not to vote for him. I mean, it’s March and I’m wearing a tank top. Can’t the polar bears learn to Winter in Florida like my dad?
Find me on Threads, drop me a comment, and most of all enjoy the beautiful day, wherever you are!