★★★ The low, foggy ceiling over the morning lifted slowly and lightened even more slowly. Sometime after lunch the light began to qualify as sunshine. Little clouds floated above the taxi’s skylight, and the one open porthole window was brilliant in the dim interior. The walking was fine on the return trip. The five-year-old wielded the tongue depressors the doctor had given him as twin swords, pale wood flashing. Just when the sun began to seem too warm, a cool breeze came up, then strengthened and cooled still more. After dinner the five-year-old went downstairs and ran himself sweaty. Seconds after he stopped and announced it was time to slow down, he turned and tripped and fell, bare knee and bare elbow hitting the pavement. He sat, tearfully but not too tearfully, on the low wall by the driveway while tissues, dug out of a grownup’s jacket pocket, stanched the blood. Dusk deepened and lamps shone in the apartments across the avenue. It was only the suggestion of going inside, taking an early shower, and calling it a night that brought the tears back.

By David Brooks

When a man finds a woman who used to work for him who is twenty years younger than him with whom to spend the rest of his life, it is imperative that he celebrate by being gifted with items that reflect certain truths.

Here are some of the items I have asked for, and, additionally/more importantly, here are what those items say about my character, or just what I value about character in general.

Eucalyptus Napkin Rings — Set of Four

Eucalyptus trees came from another country. They are among our tallest, most aromatically scented immigrants. Eucalyptus trees have never let anyone tell them what they could and couldn’t do. At the same, time they have been themselves — eucalyptus trees —and they have blended, with soaring majesty — into America’s neighborhoods, gardens and, in some cases, municipal parks. That these trees have generously given a likeness of their very own leaves to surround a napkin — an item that keeps Americans fresh and clean while they are eating, whether that meal is a respite from hard labor, or a well-earned weekend meal with family, or a raucous social occasion like a barbecue featuring items from Bobby Flay’s Barbecue Addiction, also on my list — further highlights their selfless generosity.

The Sissinghurst Castle Spoon Rest

First of all, this item is only $16. You don’t have to be Maureen fucking Dowd to get this for me. If you are one of the Times interns who somehow slimed your way into my wedding this is something you can totally afford. I know as well as anyone the desire to take a dirty spoon and just set it down on a counter, or on top of a random piece of paper towel. The Sissinghurst Castle Spoon Rest reminds us that we are better. This country was settled by men who wanted the freedom to practice their religion and they wanted to live in a place where spoons had a place to go that was neither cold nor wretched nor begged of them a performance of sullen desperation fitting no kitchen item. A spoon rest is an item that reminds us that there is never a good time not to be civilized.

Good Grips Basting Brush

This item only costs $10. I don’t care how young or poor you are, you cannot just buy this item, you have to buy it in tandem with something else. That said, this is a wonderful tool that I hold in my hand every time I want to remind myself of the dangers of excess, the sins of waste, and of how easy it could be to let a culture that always tells us we can have more pleasure, more fun, more luxury, control our mind rather than controlling it ourselves. When I use a Good Grips Basting Brush to delicately paint oil onto vegetables that I intend to roast in my Lodge Cast Iron Skillet (These two items together would actually be a suitable gift from an editorial assistant, the Skillet is very reasonably priced at about $30) rather than simply tossing them in a bowl, I feel the power of modest virtue.

Berry & Thread Glassware Carafe

I (we) have many, many items from Berry & Thread Glassware on our Registry. To me, Berry & Thread Glassware represents a sort of durable, reliable transparency that I would like to see in today’s youth. You will never, for example, see a Berry & Thread Glassware Carafe—or any of the 20 other Berry & Thread items we have listed—spend too much time watching pointless videos. You will never see a Berry & Thread item trying to be better than another Berry & Thread item. Why? Because Berry & Thread items are always working together, for the greater good. I would like to see some intrepid young entrepreneur start a high school for young Berry & Thread items; doubtless it could stand as an example to American Youth who are not ashamed to wear their identities literally etched onto them but to also stand with others who have the exact same thing etched onto them.

The Silver Palate Cookbook Deluxe Edition

Sure, I have other “cooler” cookbooks on our list. And yes, I can appreciate a world where Ina Garten’s Chicken Piccata eclipses Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukin’s Chicken Marbella. But I don’t simply forget about Chicken Marbella. To forget about Chicken Marbella is to turn one’s entire back on the past, and to turn one’s entire back on the past is to say “I regret you.” We can’t regret the past. We must look at it. We must know it, even as we admit, that yes, Ina Garten’s Chicken Piccata is the thing for now. For now. But too many people today obsess over Chicken Piccata. Chicken Marbella must not be ignored, or we risk losing the very thing that made the Upper West Side what it was, to a few people, on Saturday nights, sometime in the ’80s. In order for our country to come back, Chicken Piccata and Chicken Marbella must stand together, and cultivate in each other new ways of being what they are, without of course becoming the same chicken dish.

Even though I know we both want to.

Of the price, Mr. Tolia said: “I’m not the right person to ask. I’m a sucker for these kinds of things.” (And the price will rise. “This is an introductory price for the month of May,” Mr. DeGrezia said. “It’s just way too much work for the price. It’s not going to skyrocket, but it is going to be a bit more.”)

The Rise of the $38 Pizza, Exclusive and Elusive

The $38 “pizza experience” is probably going to cost $50 soon, so uh, I don’t know, maybe you could get it now and be like one of those people who saw Hamilton when it was still at The Public and never had to pay eight hundred dollars for a ticket, but on the other hand you could buy 13.8 [iconic] New York slices from Joe’s in the West Village. I realize that most full-size pizzas already cost like $25 anyway, so what’s another $13 thrown on top, but it’s not really about the money that you’re definitely going to spend on something equally frivolous because at this rate none of us is going to be able to retire anyway, but more about the principle of setting your money on fire to worship at the altar of the latest symbol of food idolatry.

Also, for fuck’s sake, it’s called a pizza shoppE, really?! I thought that was outlawed in 2006. You’re welcome for the lack of ~dough~ puns.

Or why Chris Cillizza makes mouth breathing seem sophisticated.

So:

Last week, in a column defending Ivanka Trump after she was booed by a German audience for supporting her father’s pitiful paid-leave policies, [troglodytic CNN commentator Chris] Cillizza, somehow channeling the voices of Ward Cleaver and John Mayer simultaneously, wrote: “It’s important to remember that Ivanka is, first and foremost, her father’s daughter. As such, she is going to defend him — as would almost every daughter in any situation in which her dad is under attack.” Wha… at? When we remind ourselves of the fact that Cillizza has, since Trump became president, displayed a thinly veiled horniness for the first daughter, this sentence takes on a nauseating tinge. As Cillizza’s star has risen to that of the pundit class, his stupidity — expressed via Simpsons memes, use of outdated teen lingo, and gleeful participation in Trump hagiography — has become all the more apparent, along with his desire for attention.

Awl pal Leah Finnegan plays “Who goes Nazi?” with the media and the answers will surprise you! (In the sense that it’s not just otiose doofuses — doofi ?— like Chris Cillizza.) Anyway, if you are not subscribed to the Leah Letter, which is widely regarded by some of the smartest people in the business as “the best bit of opt-in dyspepsia available these days,” what are you waiting for?

Who goes Nazi? Media edition

Filling the void with a mailing-supply catalog.

This week’s episode is about the beloved-but-also-hated-among-makers-and-creatives industrial shipping-supply catalog, Uline. Who doesn’t love to peruse mailing and shipping boxes? But there’s a political catch: the billion-dollar business is owned by a husband-and-wife team of conservative Republicans, which maybe wouldn’t really matter except that company president Liz Uihlein makes a point of peacocking her politics in fairly right-wing op-eds that get printed on the back page of each catalog.

Free Shipping

Nick Douglas joins us to talk about boxes, containers, injection molding, and void-fill. How many different ways can you fill a void? And what does your preferred method of popping plastic void-fill say about your personality?

Can we please give “iconic” a rest for a little while?

absolute

acclaimed

archetypal

astonishing

astounding

august

awe-inspiring

awesome

breathtaking

canonical

celebrated

champion

choicest

classic

consecrated

consequential

dazzling

deified

distinguished

dynamic

emblematic

eminent

enduring

ennobled

epochal

essential

esteemed

exalted

exceptional

extraordinary

famous

finest

formidable

glorious

grandest

greatest

groundbreaking

historic

ideal

illustrious

imperative

important

incomparable

indispensable

influential

inimitable

innovative

integral

legendary

miraculous

model

momentous

monumental

nonpareil

noteworthy

optimal

outstanding

paramount

peerless

perfect

pioneering

pivotal

preeminent

prestigious

prized

prototypical

quintessential

remarkable

renowned

revered

revolutionary

seminal

signal

singular

spectacular

stately

storied

stunning

superior

superlative

supreme

time-honored

trendsetting

ultimate

unequaled

unique

unparalleled

unrivaled

unsurpassed

venerable

vital

wonderful

world-class

The days keep coming.

Good morning. It’s Tuesday. It might be nice out later. I don’t know what to tell you. What do you want from me? This is how we live now. These are the days of our lives. I can’t give you anything else but music. Here’s something from the new Olan Mill, which is very good. Enjoy.

★★ The sun kept leaving but, for the morning at least, also kept returning. Around midday it went away for good, and a chill descended on 42nd Street. A pigeon corpse, newly dead and gory, lay on the Botanical Garden train platform to be tripped over. Pink petals sifted down and blew gently over the roadway before being trampled flat onto the walkway by the people waiting in line at the gates. The line for the garden tram was prohibitive; more lines stretched from tent to tent where the wine tastings were being held. There were picnic blankets and some people had dressed in garden-party white under the ever-less-festive skies. The hoodies came out of the backpack. From a tree somewhere above the inbound train platform, a bird let fly a dropping that landed almost unnoticeably on the back of the younger boy’s head. The pigeon still lay on the opposite platform; a sparrow pecked at its body and came away with something in its beak. Back home, by the ice cream truck, the bright smears flattened into the sidewalk were rainbow sprinkles.

A vial of poison, a top hat spittoon, and the art collection of Chelsea Hotel owner Stanley Bard

Lot 1: Assassination Souvenirs

It’s clear from an assortment of memorabilia to be offered at auction in Dallas on May 13 that someone had a crush on presidential assassin Charles Guiteau. Feeling underappreciated by the Republican Party — though probably also schizophrenic — the Illinois-born Guiteau shot James A. Garfield point-blank as the newbie president prepared to board a train in Washington, D.C. Though infamous at the time, Guiteau is not a household name, unless your house is full of history professors or theater geeks (see “The Ballad of Guiteau” in Stephen Sondheim’s musical revue, Assassins.)

The public reviled Guiteau — bullets were fired into his prison cell — and though his defense team tried to plead insanity, it didn’t work. He was sentenced to die in January 1882, which is probably around the time that his sister sent him this vial of poison, “presumably in the hope that he would choose to take it and cheat the hangman,” according to the auctioneer. How much for this dainty keepsake? Paired with a vial of the assassin’s hair, the bidding opens at $350.

But Guiteau didn’t cheat the hangman, and that incidentally created a market for related relics, e.g., pieces of the rope used to bind and hang him ($750) and a cribbage board hand-carved from a piece of his coffin ($350).

Lot 2: Spitter’s Full

This top hat recalls those elegant days of yore when one could find a communal bucket of phlegm on the floor of public hotels, bars, courtrooms, and offices. We’re talking about the late nineteenth and early twentieth century — post-Germ Theory — when, for whatever reason, let’s say tuberculosis, people apparently needed to spit all the time. To keep these enlightened animals from making a mucousy mess everywhere, signs were posted beseeching gentlemen: “Do not expectorate on the floor.” Maybe this signage also featured big flashing arrows pointing toward a spittoon, with the words, “Spit here.”

The classy brass model, circa 1890, is “very unusual,” according to Potter & Potter Auctions in Chicago, where it will be offered for sale on May 7. The starting bid is $100, sputum not included.

Lot 3: Chelsea Hotel’s Horses

The Chelsea Hotel, once home to Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe, and Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen (before he allegedly stabbed her to death in room 100), was long touted as a bastion of Bohemian living in New York City. Stanley Bard, its kooky keeper for decades, was the man behind the desk who could be cajoled to accept finished canvases in lieu of rent from the artsy residents.

Bard died earlier this year, and his art collection is already headed to auction on May 16. The untitled painting seen here, valued at $6,000–10,000, is the work of American artist Joe Andoe, who lived and worked at the hotel for years. A similar equine-themed painting of his hung in the hotel’s gallery-like lobby.

Rebecca Rego Barry is the author of Rare Books Uncovered: True Stories of Fantastic Finds in Unlikely Places.

Maybe rethink your emojicabulary.

An “eggplant deformity” is, in urological circles, a sign of a penile fracture, which is even worse than it sounds. During sex, masturbation, or freak accidents, a penis can bend so forcefully that the sheath around one or both of the spongy tubes holding the blood creating an erection tears, audibly and painfully, resulting in rapid flaccidity. The blood released often pools inside the battered cock, causing bulbous purple-black swelling that makes it look more like an eggplant than when it’s happily erect. If the tear is severe enough, a patient may piss blood as well.

We’re Going to Ruin the Eggplant Emoji for You Now

Beware when sexting any budding urologists about the rapidly detumescing nightshade in your pants. See also, “The Incident Report. Or, The Time I Broke It”:

The Incident Report. Or, The Time I Broke It