I hope these kids are the first to face the squad. Perhaps that’s a little harsh, but this week’s “Vows” column in the Times might be the most vomit-worthy yet. First date at Bungalow 8, falling in love over the summer at mummy and daddy’s house in the Hamptons, bicoastal on-again/off-again drama, then the ceremony at the University Club? Ugh. I actually have a genuine fondness for Vows–yes, it almost invariably covers the most priveleged people, but there’s usually some little twist in the story that makes it sweet or at least interesting. This story was just pure, smug entitlement.

How nice, then, to turn from that to the story in the April 17 issue of The New Yorker (talk about smug and entitled!) about good old Pete Seeger. At 86, he still earnestly practices what he preaches, chops his own firewood, and puts on little shows for the local school kids. It’s really an uplifting and often amusing article (my favorite bit was when he related a botched attempt to interview Edna St. Vincent Millay when he was in high school); I can’t find a link to it at the moment, but will try to get one up sometime this weekend.

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