"A breeze stirred the gray haze of Daisy’s fur collar."

Very little going on in the action here. A tiny wind creates a bit of motion in a small subsection of the lady's clothing. But poetically — in the sound and look of the words — this is a very happening sentence.

Breeze and haze go together, with their z's. Gray rhymes with the beginning of haze, and haze rhymes with the beginning of Daisy. Gray... hay... day... Gray heyday.  

Stir and fur rhyme, and there's a faint echo of that rhyme at the end of collar.

We saw the wind ruffling Daisy's clothes one other time in this "Great Gatsby" project, but we can't talk about that now, because the idea is to restrict ourselves, each day, to one sentence, in isolation.

How should we celebrate the 100th birthday of Richard M. Nixon?

It's today.

Ideas:

1. Tell us your favorite thing about Richard Nixon. (It's his birthday. No need to trot out all the usual hatred.)

2. When you encounter someone today, instead of saying "hi," do that 2-arms-raised-with-V-for-victory-fingers gesture.



3. For lunch: Ketchup on your cottage cheese.

4. Work Nixon phrases into conversations, e.g. "the lift of a driving dream."

5. When you put on your coat, call attention to the fact that it's a "cloth coat," as if that's remarkable, as if anyone would ever expect anyone these days to have a fur. If people look at you funny, double down by calling it "a respectable Republican cloth coat." If somebody gets the jump on you and calls their coat a "cloth coat" first, show that you get it by saying, "As I always say, you'd look good in anything."

6. At some point today, when you're with someone who never kneels to pray, insist that they get down on their knees and pray with you.

7. Wearing a dark suit and wingtips, take a walk on the beach.

8. Secretly record all your conversations. (Or is everyone already doing that?)

9. If anyone happens to say "pardon me," say: "Pursuant to the pardon power conferred upon me by Article II, Section II, I grant a full, free, and absolute pardon unto you for all offenses."

10. When you leave a room, turn to anyone who remains in it — or even to an empty room — and proclaim: "I leave you gentlemen now. But as I leave you I want you to know, you won't have [your name] to kick around any more."

11. This is special for lawprofs and other law folk. If anyone mentions Rehnquist, act like they got the name wrong, and faux-correct them with "Renchburg."

12. From Ron in the comments: Play ping pong. Watch Dr. StrangeKissinger. Just for the hell of it say, "Sock it to me?" Just for today call your closest friend "Spiro." Play Checkers.

13. If you find yourself in the kitchen with somebody, strike up a debate and at some point, start needling them about being a Communist.

Any chance courts might say the West Hollywood ban on selling fur violates the Constitution?

Only in Ilya Somin's dreams:

If the law is challenged, judges will probably conclude that there is at least some “rational basis” for it, such as the need to protect fur-bearing animals from overhunting. Nor will it matter that the law bans the sale of fur clothing, but permits the sale of leather items. Such distinctions are also subject only to minimal scrutiny. Nonetheless, the debate over this case and others like it could help increase public awareness of the need to enforce constitutional protections for economic liberty.

"The 5 Most Annoying Food/Drink Presentations."

Per Zagat:

1. Wine served in non-wine glasses...

2. Cold bread in a brown paper sack...

3. Drinks served in mason jars...

4. Dishes served on wooden boards...

5. Meat dishes with head/feet still attached: We're down with the whole nose-to-tail trend thing and all, but not all of us love to see our dinner staring back at us. Chickens served with the head and feet still attached, whole pig leg with the hoof intact – while some would argue the chef is "honoring the whole animal," in most cases it's being used as a gimmick to lure in a certain set of foodies – the annoying kind that thinks that reading Anthony Bourdain books obsessively makes you an expert on food. Hold the snouts, please.

Ha ha. Reminds me of those old furs women used to wear to church in the 1950s. The mink's heads were fitted with mouth-clips that the lady attached to the hind end of the mink, and the little legs just dangled. Hey! You can buy one... cheap!

But back to food... I'm sure you can think of some more annoying ways to serve food and drink. I remember when we were little — again, I'm talking about the 1950s — this girl had a KoolAid stand and, having run out of cups, she said: "Cup your hands!" I'd like to see a restaurant today attempt to palm that off as a hipster presentation.

ADDED: Irene (the commenter) emails: "Your post made me laugh, especially since I had just finished uploading the attached photo (from Easter, 1963) to my Facebook page! That thing is in my closet."