So, if you haven't figured it out by now, yours truly has a longstanding affiinity for all things Dorothy Parker. For the reason behind the name, trawl the Parkbench website for RHJ writing small and purple.
Everyone has their special subject for Mastermind, and mine is Dorothy Parker –– or so I thought. I now hang my head in SHAME, and know that I am not the true blue Parkerite I once thought.*
I now can't remember how I came upon this link yesterday, but it stopped me in my tracks. Rarely do I learn something entirely new about Mrs Parker, but keeping in mind that I rarely get to the end of a biography that I'm reading for pleasure (sure, we know how it ends), I suppose this one passed me by.
From Bal'more's own City Paper, sniffs the errant Washingtonian, I bring you this sad tale with a happy ending.
No, go read it.
In the category of 'I didn't think there were any more reasons to admire the work of the NAACP', this is surely top of the list.
*That said, I was once mighty impressed with myself for catching a misattributed Parkerism in the pages of the latest hot book by one of this country's leading media lights. *pushes glasses up nose and snorts* Many thanks to Kevin Fitzpatrick of the Dorothy Parker Society for his back-up on that one.
