the book on philly nightlife

David Grazian, a sociology professor at Penn, has written a book called On the Make: The Hustle of Urban Nightlife, in which he explores, using mostly anonymous interviews, the nightlife culture in Philly. Grazian's focus is specific to Rittenhouse Square and Old City, places with which I'm (ahem) rather familiar. The book looks interesting, at least according to this interview with Grazian in the March 20-27 issue of Philadelphia City Paper. Money quote from the end of A.D. Amorosi's CP piece:

The biggest surprise in On the Make was the discovery of how anxiety-inducing urban nightlife can be, and not just for the wallflowers. "Shrinking violets and 40-year-old virgins, sure, they were scared," says Grazian. "But also the popular kids and the beautiful people -- especially the popular kids and the beautiful people. I sometimes think we'd all just be better off dressing down, and stop trying so hard to be hip. Having fun should be way more fun than this."

As anyone who knows me will attest, I couldn't agree more.

more on buckley & cope

Given that two of my all-time favorite public figures, William F. Buckley Jr. and Myron Cope, died on the same day Wednesday, I feel compelled to pass along some additional reactions:

* The Philadelphia Inquirer has a nice tribute of an editorial today that acknowledges exactly what it was that made Buckley so appealing: "Through it all he perfected the art of disagreeing without being disagreeable."

* Then there's George F. Will, ever eloquent, closing out his piece in The Washington Post with this: "Bill's distinctive voice permeated, and improved, his era. It will be forgotten by no one who had the delight of hearing it."

* I especially liked David Corn's blog at The Nation, a magazine about as ideologically at odds with Buckley's conservatism as any out there. Corn was particularly fond of the humorous approach Buckley brought to his longshot campaign for mayor of New York City in 1965. "I'd demand a recount," Buckley replied when asked what he'd do if he actually won. And when granted the opportunity to offer a rebuttal in a debate during that campaign, Buckley chose not to repeat what he had already said and replied simply, with his trademark arrogant wit: "I am satisfied to sit back and contemplate my own former brilliance." He will be missed.

* All of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette's tremendous Cope coverage can be accessed here.

* Chico Harlan, recalling a personal encounter he had with Cope during the run-up to the Steelers' unlikely run to Super Bowl XL two years ago, concludes his P-G piece with a gem of an anecdote.

* And Gene Collier, whose wonderful obit on Cope from the P-G I had linked to earlier in the week, also wrote a column chock-full of lively stuff that also includes the following two sentences: "Entrances and arrivals were unforgettable, but this final departure stings like hell. The withering roster of people who really know how to live, how to enjoy life's every minute, is down one today." A fitting epitaph.

buckley, too?

William F. Buckley Jr. is dead at age 82. What a day: First Myron Cope, now WFB. Regardless of one's political persuasions, there's no denying Buckley was a titan in the world of journalism and commentary. He possessed refinement and a razor-sharp wit, and his prose sparkled with a patrician arrogance blended with a genuine graciousness and a true appreciation of the chase -- qualities that helped endear him personally to many of those who detested his opinions. I began reading National Review, the magazine he founded and that today mourns his passing, while in college, and I continue to do so because the writing is first-rate, and the depth of its commentary runs deep, in stark contrast to so much of the shallow shrillness that permeates talk radio and the farther reaches of the Internet. Buckley loved big words no one had heard of, and his passionate opposition to communism, scorned for so long by so many of our leading literary lights, helped lay the intellectual foundation for the eventual demise of the Soviet Union, the end of the Cold War, and freedom for untold millions. He was a revolutionary, in the truest sense of the word. He excised anti-Semites from his ranks, and sought to win his various wars of ideas with reason. He even acknowledged his mistakes, telling Time magazine in a Q&A a few years ago that he regretted his opposition to forced integration during the civil rights era. "Federal intervention," he said, "was necessary." He also sparked some controversy on the Right with his opposition to the Iraq war. He wrote prolifically, with a long-running newspaper column and books on topics ranging from religion to sailing to a series of spy novels, but the autobiography of his life as a Catholic is my among my favorites, as is God and Man at Yale, the forcefully argued work that challenged the intellectual landscape at his alma mater and kick-started his career in the early 1950s. His son, Christopher, has authored many books himself, including Thank You For Smoking, which was later adapted into a terrific film. Buckley's influence was truly boundless, and his legacy will be much commented upon in the coming days. As well it should be. R.I.P.

ruanaidh

Art Rooney Jr. has written a book. Yes, that's a bit like saying Frank Sinatra Jr., and not his old man, has purchased a football team. Or something. Whatever. But according to Ron Cook of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, there really is something to this. The book is called Ruanaidh, which is Gaelic for Rooney. Junior has been exiled from the Steelers for more than 20 years, but he's now telling his side of the story -- the good, the bad, and the ugly. Cook credits Junior for his storytelling and his eye for detail, and given Junior's stature with the Steelers during their salad days in the 1970s, it sounds like there's plenty of good stuff. And to be honest, a part of me just likes that Junior collaborated with Roy McHugh on the project, about which McHugh told Junior:

Roy tells me I'm the same stream-of-consciousness writer that James Joyce is except for two things. He says Joyce was a brilliant writer, and I'm not. And he says Joyce eventually gets to the point, and I don't.

Self-deprecating and honest. Sounds kinda cool.