HOME / the breakfast table: An e-mail conversation about the news of the day.

Timothy Noah and Marjorie Williams

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(Still) the New Yorker

By Marjorie Williams
Posted Monday, July 13, 1998, at 1:43 PM ET

Dear Tim,

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So now that you've left your job, you're carrying on about one packed lunch and one round of The Lorax? If I were you, buddy, I wouldn't go around provoking a woman who's in a position to hold you hostage before a live (on-line, anyway) audience.

My own reliable source on Remnick's appointment this morning was my mother's group, which is tied, directly or through spouses, to a multitude of media outlets and law firms. Begun when Alice was just a few months old, this has turned out to be an awesome source of gossip: while the kids bean each other over the head with contested toys, my friends and I all roll up our sleeves to dish.

So: Remnick. He's a mighty writing machine, a noble man, a fabulous human being. No, I don't really want a job at the New Yorker, it just can't hurt to genuflect. Mostly I know David as a former Washington Post colleague. When I started writing for the Style section, he took me in hand and taught me how to intimidate editors. He was best known, I believe, for codifying the concept of the Victory Lap, which was the casual way you circled the entire newsroom the day you had a big story in the paper, modestly jingling the change in your pockets and accepting the plaudits of your peers. I do honestly think he's a good choice.

Now can we stop talking about the New Yorker?

Love,

Marjorie

P.S. I did appreciate the coffee in bed.

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