David Brooks sure has changed a lot since he went to the New York Times. He's gone big-time and now. Instead of playing pick-up basketball with other journalists, he's hanging with 50 Cent.
Bobos in Bling?
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Yes, it's joke. "David H. Brooks" is not THE David Brooks. I know.
The story of how the career of David Brooks began is amazing.
He wrote one joke about Bill Buckley in his college magazine. (The joke was: Buckley is famous for being editor of two magazines, the National Buckley and the Buckley Review.)
Someone showed Bill the joke; he liked it, contacted Brooks and hired him straight out of college.
The bar mitzvah in question reminds me quite a bit of my own held in June, 1980. The musical entertainment was provided by a band called "George Michael and the Music Machine."
But it wasn't THAT George Michael, making ends meet before WHAM! hit it big. My George Michael was a doughy 50 year old Jew who played accordion and sang lead vocals. He also did a mean cover of "In the Navy" if you catch my drift (not that there's anything wrong with that).
The entree was sole stuffed with an unidentifiable substance that the caterer insisted was partly composed of crabmeat. The teenage ladies in attendance were few because, alas, I was a blogger-to-be.
My parents were very careful to not give me the "no place to go but down" set-up that the poor Brooks girl has apparently been inflicted with. And I am thankful.
Soxblog had crabmeat at his Bar Mitzvah bash? That must be some extremely Reform shul.
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