radosh_big.jpgThe Basics
Age and occupation. How long have you lived here, where did you come from, and where do you live now?
I'm 35 and usually on the form I put down journalist, which never seems exactly correct. I do write and edit for a living, but much of that writing does not have certain attributes that "journalism" usually suggests, such as a basis in fact or the writer having conducted interviews, done research, or gotten dressed before starting to type. I have lived in New York my whole life, not counting four years in Oberlin, Ohio. I was born in the Bronx, grew up in Park Slope, lived for too long on the Upper West Side, and recently moved to a sturdy house on the Windsor Terrace/Kensington border.

Three for You
1. Not only have you appeared "in more magazines than most people have read," but you have appeared in many books few have ever heard of either: 101 Damnations, Mirth of a Nation, and Rough Draft. So, can you describe the typical Radosh reader and provide any marketing insight to reach your audience?
I was going to say that for the books, my readers are the dozens of other writers (or in the case of Damnations, the 100 other ones) whose work also appears in those books. But if they're like me, they probably only read their own contributions. For the magazines, my typical reader is someone waiting to see the dermatologist. Wait, true story: I once went to give a sperm sample and in the collection room was a copy of Playboy with an article of mine. That did the trick.

I've read the second part of the question carefully several times now and still have no idea what it means, sorry. [Ed.- My apologies. I think I was looking for something like "Targeted ads in science journals and cross-promotion with Maker's Mark."]

2. Do you celebrate getting in the Talk of the Town section of the New Yorker, which you do every three years, with the kind of hard partying that is associated with the Puerto Rican Day parade or the arrival of cicada season?
Like most freelancers, I thrive on misery and celebrate any successful piece by convincing myself that it was a fluke and I will never again write anything that anyone will like.

3. The landmark 1975 free-agency case involving Major League Baseball pitcher Andy Messersmith dramatically changed the game. Is Elizabeth Spier's book deal likely to do the same for bloggers? Or is it still going to be a swing and a miss for these poor "writers"?
Baseball is the one where the guy waves the stick around, right?

Proust-Krucoff Questionnaire
Please share a personal (and hopefully interesting) NYC taxi story.
I have a friend who found Nora Ephron's address book (and pashmina scarf, which dates the story for you) in the back seat of a cab. But that doesn't meet either of your criteria, does it?

9pm, Wednesday - what are you doing?
Watching the previous night's episode of The Shield on my ReplayTV. If that sounds boring, it gets worse: the reason I didn't watch it the night before is that it ends at 11, past my bedtime.

What's your New York motto?
The best, most mysterious fortune cookie I ever got: "You were right the first time."

Best celebrity sighting in New York, or personal experience with one if you're that type.
A few years ago, I smiled (at least I attempted to smile, I'm not sure how it came off) at Ally Sheedy in the lobby of my building. I had a huge crush on her in high school that I never really got over, Short Circuit or no.

Just after midnight on a Saturday - what are you doing?
Sleeping. Perhaps this is the time to explain that I have six-month-old twins.

What's the most expensive thing in your wardrobe?
I don't think anyone has topped Spiers' answer to this question.

Where do you summer?
I'm not sure a week each August can be considered summering, but Indian Lake, in the Adirondacks.

Who do you consider to be the greatest New Yorker of all-time?
I don't know from greatest, but a personal hero of mine is my grandmother's cousin Jack Abrams, an anarchist who was exiled from the U.S. for distributing leaflets that urged resistance to the first World War. Justice Holmes' dissent from his conviction established the "clear and present danger" standard from which modern First Amendment law evolved. The aphorism about shouting fire in a crowded theater, by the way, came from a related case, and was used to justify the conviction of antiwar protesters, something you might want to keep in mind the next time someone uses it in defense of any restriction on speech other than literally shouting fire in a crowded theater.

What happened the last time you went to L.A.?
I drove an electric car. My wife, who is a science writer, had an argument with a former child star turned vegan activist who was trying to claim that eating meat causes Alzheimer's. Then my wife tried to claim that absinthe rots your brain and that if I drank the homemade brew my friend was offering she would not talk to me for the rest of the trip. I gave a sperm sample to an acupuncturist (see above). I'd never live in LA, of course, but I love to visit.

The End of The World is finally happening. Be it the Rapture, War of Armageddon, reversal of the Sun's magnetic field, or the Red Sox win the World Series. What are you going to do with your last 24 hours in NYC?
Drink that absinthe, godammit. Which probably will lead me to do something really embarrassing and actually will rot my brain. Now I know you're thinking, So what, the world's over, right? I mean, the sun's magnetic field flipped and everything! But imagine how you'll feel the next day, with a pounding absinthe hangover, when your wife -- did I mention she's a science writer? -- explains that the sun's magnetic field reverses every 11 years "like clockwork," according to NASA with no effect on the Earth, and that I'd better make an appointment with a neurologist right after I write a profuse apology to Ally Sheedy.

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