Louisa Thomas on a Ballplayer’s Epic Final Game; Plus, Remembering the Composer of “Annie”

Summary

Podcast Summary: The New Yorker Radio Hour Episode: Louisa Thomas on a Ballplayer’s Epic Final Game; Plus, Remembering the Composer of “Annie”
Release Date: May 27, 2025
Host: David Remnick
Produced by WNYC Studios and The New Yorker

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1. Louisa Thomas Discusses John Updike’s Tribute to Ted Williams

Overview:
In the first segment, sports correspondent Louisa Thomas delves into John Updike's evocative piece, "Hub Fans, Big Kid Adieu," which chronicles the legendary baseball player Ted Williams' final game with the Boston Red Sox in 1960. Residing just miles from Fenway Park, Thomas brings a local’s perspective to the discussion, illustrating the deep emotional connection between Williams and his fans, as well as Updike’s literary prowess in capturing this iconic moment.

Key Points & Notable Quotes:

• Introduction to Updike's Piece:
  Thomas introduces Updike's article, highlighting its significance and the unique title that resonates strongly with baseball aficionados. She notes, "Updike really kind of set the bar for great writing about sports. It's not really sports writing, right? It's great writing that happens to be about sports" ([00:09]).

• Teaching the Piece:
  As a Harvard nonfiction creative writing instructor, Thomas emphasizes the piece's exceptional mood and narrative technique. She remarks, "This piece is so good at Mood, so good at beginnings" ([01:15]).

• Analyzing Updike’s Descriptive Narrative:
  Updike's vivid descriptions bring Fenway Park to life, such as, "Fenway park in Boston is a lyric little bandbox of a ballpark" ([01:50]). Thomas appreciates the meticulous detail, noting how Updike captures the granular moments of Williams' gameplay and the collective emotion of the crowd.

• The Genesis of the Story:
  Thomas shares that Updike was inspired to write the piece while dealing with personal turmoil, aiming to visit a paramour but instead finding solace in the game. This serendipitous experience fueled the depth of his writing ([02:17]).

• Emotional Resonance of Williams’ Final Game:
  Updike masterfully conveys the gravity of Williams' last appearance. He writes, "Whenever Williams appeared at the plate... it was like having a familiar Leonardo appear in a shuffle of Saturday Evening Post covers" ([03:18]). Thomas underscores the shared dedication between Updike and Williams, both meticulous in their crafts.

• Refining the Narrative:
  Thomas reveals insights into Updike's writing process, showing how he painstakingly revised his descriptions to capture the essence of Williams' final hit: "And rose meticulously along a straight line and it was still rising when it cleared the fence" ([05:44]).

• Climactic Conclusion of the Game:
  Updike describes the final moments with poetic intensity: "The ball seemed less an object in flight than the tip of a towering, motionless construct like the Eiffel Tower or the Tappan Zee Bridge" ([06:10]). The crowd's unified applause without boos illustrates the profound respect and emotion surrounding Williams' farewell ([07:00]).

• Legacy of Updike’s Sports Writing:
  Thomas highlights the rarity and excellence of Updike's approach to sports journalism, noting the high praise from editor William Shawn: "He said [it was] the best thing that they'd ever published in the magazine about baseball" ([10:37]).

Conclusion:
Thomas effectively bridges literary analysis with sports history, showcasing how Updike's narrative transcends traditional sports writing to immortalize Ted Williams' legacy through eloquent storytelling.

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2. Tribute to Charles Strauss, Composer of "Annie"

Overview:
The second segment serves as a heartfelt tribute to Charles Strauss, a celebrated composer renowned for creating the unforgettable song "Tomorrow" from the musical Annie. The discussion covers Strauss’s illustrious career, his creative process, and his lasting impact on Broadway and popular culture.

Key Points & Notable Quotes:

• Introduction to Charles Strauss:
  David Remnick introduces Strauss, highlighting his achievements and his pivotal role in the creation of "Annie." He remarks, "He'll be best remembered for the musical Annie, the gateway drug to Broadway for generations of kids" ([14:11]).

• Personal Anecdotes from Strauss:
  In an intimate interview conducted in 2023, Strauss shares candid moments from his life, including his interactions with iconic figures like Jay Z and Beyoncé. He humorously recounts, "I guess the Library of Congress, which collects life itself... They asked me" ([15:27]).

• Creation of "Tomorrow":
  Strauss discusses the genesis of "Tomorrow," initially viewing it as a "disposable item" necessary for the musical's progression. Reflecting on its unexpected success, he states, "I didn't know that it was going to be so big. And so I'm very proud if it made its mark" ([20:50]).

• Musical Philosophy:
  Emphasizing the essence of a great song, Strauss explains, "A popular song should sound as though it was always there, but it never was until you thought of it" ([21:22]). This philosophy is exemplified in the enduring simplicity and appeal of "Tomorrow."

• Legacy and Reflection:
  Despite acknowledging that "Tomorrow" has overshadowed his other works, Strauss remains humble and appreciative of its impact. He reflects, "It's a funny thing about composing. It comes from your heart in a way, but it really comes from nowhere. It's God given" ([22:08]).

• Final Words and Tribute:
  Closing the segment, Remnick honors Strauss's contributions to music and theater, encapsulating his legacy with Strauss's own lyrics from "Tomorrow": "So you got to hang on till tomorrow come what may" ([24:34]).

Conclusion:
The tribute to Charles Strauss not only celebrates his monumental contribution to Broadway but also offers a glimpse into the creative mind behind one of the most beloved songs in musical history. Strauss's humility and passion for his craft resonate deeply, ensuring his legacy endures.

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Closing Remarks

David Remnick wraps up the episode by acknowledging Strauss's passing at the age of 96 and reflecting on his significant achievements. The episode masterfully intertwines literary excellence with musical genius, offering listeners a profound appreciation for both John Updike's literary tribute to Ted Williams and Charles Strauss's iconic contributions to musical theater.

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Notable Quotes with Timestamps

• Louisa Thomas: "This piece is so good at Mood, so good at beginnings." ([01:15])

• John Updike: "Fenway park in Boston is a lyric little bandbox of a ballpark." ([01:50])

• John Updike: "Whenever Williams appeared at the plate... it was like having a familiar Leonardo appear in a shuffle of Saturday Evening Post covers." ([03:18])

• Louisa Thomas: "Gods do not answer letters." ([10:37])

• Charles Strauss: "Tomorrow falls into that category... I needed some time." ([20:50])

• Charles Strauss: "A popular song should sound as though it was always there, but it never was until you thought of it." ([21:22])

• Charles Strauss: "It's a funny thing about composing. It comes from your heart in a way, but it really comes from nowhere. It's God given." ([22:08])

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This episode of The New Yorker Radio Hour offers a compelling exploration of storytelling across different mediums, celebrating both literary and musical artistry. Whether you're a sports enthusiast, a literature lover, or a fan of Broadway, this episode provides rich insights and heartfelt tributes that resonate beyond their immediate subjects.

Transcript

[David Remnick]

This is the New Yorker Radio Hour, a co production of WNYC Studios and the New Yorker.

This is the New Yorker Radio Hour. I'm David Remnick. This year is the centennial of the New Yorker, and our staff writers and other friends of the magazine have been pulling out some classics from the long history of the New Yorker. It's a series we call Takes, and you can find them all [e-mail] takes newyorker.com takes Louisa Thomas is our sports correspondent, and she naturally gravitated to a piece about baseball, a piece with a title that is comprehensible only if you're a baseball nut or a reader of Variety magazine. And the title is Hub Fans, Big Kid Adieu. The kid in question, of course, was Ted Williams, the great hitter who spent 19 years on the Red Sox torturing us Yankee fans. And it's by no less a writer than John Updike. Updike describes Ted Williams last game on the Red Sox, his very last game before he retired in 1960. Louisa Thomas lives in Boston, just a few miles from Fenway Park.

[Louisa Thomas]

I actually was teaching this piece by John Updike about Ted Williams to a nonfiction creative writing class that I teach at Harvard. And this is one of those pieces that I refer to sometimes when I need to enter the right voice, when I sort of need to remember how to start, when I need to sort of get in the mood. This piece is so good at Mood, so good at beginnings.

[John Updike]

Fenway park in Boston is a lyric little bandbox of a ballpark.

[Louisa Thomas]

I love that opening line.

[John Updike]

Everything is painted green and seems in curiously sharp focus like the inside of an old fashioned peeping type Easter egg. It was built in 1912 and rebuilt in 1934 and offers, as do most Boston artifacts, a compromise between man's Euclidean determinations and nature's beguiling irregularities.

[Louisa Thomas]

What I know about the genesis of the story is what he told us. In 1977 he published a reprint of this in a slender little volume, and he wrote an introduction. And he said in the introduction that his plan had been to go visit a paramour on Beacon Hill. He was married, but his marriage was dissolving and he knocked on the door and his paramour was not there. So he went to the game instead, to Fenway park to watch Ted Williams play in his last game. And he was so moved by what he saw that he felt compelled to write about it.

[John Updike]

I and 10,453 others had shown up, primarily because this was the Red Sox's last home game of the season and therefore the last time in all eternity that their regular left fielder, known to the headlines as Ted Kidd, Splinter, Thumper, TW and and most cloyingly Mr. Wonderful would play in Boston.

[Louisa Thomas]

Ted Williams was this boyhood hero. Sometimes, you know, we can go back and find all the great reasons that Update loved him, but I think some of them were, you know, born out of a child's imagination. There's a lovely passage actually in the piece that he wrote about how Ted Williams was originally always this line and a box score.

[John Updike]

My personal memories of Williams begin when I was a boy in Pennsylvania with two last place teams in Philadelphia to keep me company. For me, Williams lf was a figment of the box scores who always seemed to be going 3 for 5. He radiated from afar the hard blue glow of high purpose.

[Louisa Thomas]

He felt a sort of sympathy with him because Updike was this great practitioner of his craft as as Williams was. And they both cared tremendously about these details. And there was something so pure about the way they took their swings.

[John Updike]

Whenever Williams appeared at the plate, pounding the dirt from his cleats, gouging a pit in the batter's box with his left foot, wringing resin out of the bat handle with his vehement grip, switching the stick at the pitcher with an electric ferocity, it was like having a familiar Leonardo appear in a shuffle of Saturday Evening Post covers. This man, you realized, and here perhaps was the difference greater than the difference in gifts really intended. To hit the ball in the third inning, he hoisted a high fly to deep center. In the fifth, we thought he had. He smacked the ball hard and high into the heart of his power zone. But the deep bright field in Fenway and the heavy air and casual east wind defeated him. The ball died. Al Palarcic leaned his back against the big 380 painted on the right field wall and caught it. On another day, in another park, it would have been gone.

[Louisa Thomas]

I had the chance actually the other day to go back and look at his draft and there is this passage and it's one of the passages that Update actually went worked over most, both in the original process of writing and with the typewriter. You can see all these X's out and also with his pencil after he's, you know, he's really, really trying to get it exactly right so that, you know, there's this line. It went over the first baseman's head and rose.

[John Updike]

It went over the first baseman's head and rose meticulously along a straight line and it was still rising when it cleared the fence. The trajectory seemed qualitatively different from anything anyone else might hit. For me, Williams is the classic ball player of the game. On a hot August weekday before a small crowd, when the only thing at stake is the tissue thin difference between a thing done well and a thing.

[Louisa Thomas]

Done ill. And what you have when you see, when you look at the draft, you know it's the. It went over the first baseman's head and rose originally was just. And rose along a straight line. And then he made it rose slowly along a straight line. But then it's not slowly, it's meticulously along a straight line. And I mean, there's just kind of constant emendation, refining, getting it right, because these marginal differences really matter. And it's those marginal differences that are the difference between a pop up, between a long fly and between a home run. And Updike really understood that, and so did Williams.

[John Updike]

The afternoon grew so glowering that in the sixth inning the arc lights were turned on, always a wan sight in the daytime, like the burning lights of a funeral procession. Aided by the gloom, Fischer was slicing through the Sox rookies and Williams did not come to bat in the seventh. He was second up in the eighth. This was almost certainly his last time to come to the plate in Fenway Park. And instead of merely cheering as we had his three previous appearances, we stood, all of us stood and applauded. Have you ever heard applause in a ballpark? Just applause, no calling, no whistling, just an ocean of hand claps, minute after minute, burst after burst, crowding and running together in continuous succession like the pushes of surf at the edge of the sand. It was a somber and considered tumult. There was not a boo in it. Understand that we were a crowd of rational people. We knew that a home run cannot be produced at will. The right pitch must be perfectly met and luck must ride with the ball. Three innings before, we had seen a brave effort fail. The air was soggy, the season was exhausted. Nevertheless, there will always lurk around a corner, in a pocket of our knowledge of the odds, an indefensible hope. And this was one of the times which you now and then find in sports, when a density of expectation hangs in the air and plucks an event out of the future. Fisher, after his unsettling weight, was wide with the first pitch. He put the second one over and Williams swung mightily and missed. The crowd grunted, seeing that classic swing, so long, smooth, quick, exposed, naked in its failure. Fisher threw the third time Williams swung again, and there it was. The ball climbed on a diagonal line into the vast volume of air over center field. From my angle behind third base, the ball seemed less an object in flight than the tip of a towering, motionless construct like the Eiffel Tower or the Tappan Zee Bridge. It was in the books. While it was still in the sky, Brandt ran back to the deepest corner of the outfield grass. The ball descended beyond his reach and struck in the crotch where the bullpen met the wall, bounced chunkily and, as far as I could see, vanished like a feather caught in a vortex. Williams ran out the square of bases at the center of our beseeching screaming. He ran as he always ran out home runs, hurriedly, unsmiling, head down, as if our praise were a storm of rain to get out of. He didn't tip his cap, though. We thumped, wept, and chanted, we want Ted. For minutes after he hid in the dugout. He did not come back. Our noise for some seconds passed beyond excitement into a kind of immense open angle, a wailing, a cry to be saved. But immortality is non transferable. The paper said that the other players and even the umpires on the field begged him to come out and acknowledge us in some way he never had. And he did not now. Gods do not answer letters.

[Louisa Thomas]

I just love that line. Gods do not answer letters. His editor on this piece was William Shawn. He said it was the best thing that they'd ever published in the magazine about baseball, although Updike sort of made a quip that that wasn't saying much because they didn't really. The previous editor, Harold Ross, had not liked baseball, among many other things, but William Shawn did. And you know, there weren't a lot of sports writers writing like this. In some ways he really kind of set the bar for great writing about sports. It's not really sports writing, right? It's great writing that happens to be about sports, happens to be about a great human being who is playing a great game.

[John Updike]

On the car radio as I drove home, I heard that Williams had decided not to accompany the team to New York, so he knew how to do even that. The hardest thing quit.

[David Remnick]

Excerpts from Hub Fans Bid Kid Adieu by John Updike were read for us by Brian Morabito, and we heard from staff writer Louisa Thomas, who writes our column the Sporting Scene. You can find updike story newyorker.com and you can also subscribe to the New Yorker there as well. This is the New Yorker Radio Hour, with more to come.

[Chloe Melt]

This episode is Brought to you by Progressive Insurance. You chose to hit play on this podcast today. Smart choice. Make another smart choice with Auto Quote Explorer to compare rates from multiple car insurance companies all at once. Try [e-mail], progressive Casualty Insurance Company and affiliates. Not available in all states or situations. Prices vary based on how you buy. Hi, I'm Chloe melt, editor of Vogue.com and I'm Cho Manardi, head of editorial content at British website. Our show the Run through takes you behind the scenes at Vogue. Yes. With two episodes every week. You'll find out what's really happening inside the world of fashion and culture. Every Tuesday, hear from Nicole Phelps, global director of Vogue Runway and Vogue business, as she discusses the latest fashion news and speaks to designers and industry leaders that Vogue editors can't stop talking about.

[Louisa Thomas]

There's so much shake ups happening in fashion.

[Chloe Melt]

I'm curious what you think of this moment.

[Charles Strauss]

Ooh.

[Chloe Melt]

I am here with Marc Jacobs. Longevity is something we talk about a lot. It's not easy to achieve.

[Louisa Thomas]

How does it feel this moment?

[Charles Strauss]

I have so much to say on this subject.

[Chloe Melt]

And on Thursday, you'll hear from the two of us, Chloe Marle and Cho Minardi, as we share our thoughts on fashion through the lens of culture. From the Oscars to the Met Gala, plus conversations with the biggest stars right now. Tyler, congratulations on your first Vogue cover. Thank you.

[Charles Strauss]

Oh, my God.

[Chloe Melt]

Join us to get your bi weekly fashion and culture news. Listen to the Run through with Vogue every Tuesday and Thursday, wherever you get your podcasts.

[David Remnick]

This is the New Yorker Radio Hour, and we're going to close with a tribute to one of the great modern practitioners of the mysterious art of the earworm. Charles Strauss wrote for film and television, and he won Tony awards for Broadway shows including Bye Bye Birdie.

[Charles Strauss]

Gray skies are gonna clear up, Put.

[John Updike]

On a happy face.

[David Remnick]

But he'll be best remembered for the musical Annie, the gateway drug to Broadway for generations of kids.

[Charles Strauss]

We're gonna do it. You're a new face. I am.

[David Remnick]

Jeffrey.

I. Charles Strauss died this month at the age of 96. One of the last interviews he gave was to our producer, Jeffrey Masters, who went to see Strauss at his home in Manhattan back in 2023.

I'm gonna record if that's okay.

[Charles Strauss]

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Well, well, I'm gonna suck my stomach.

[David Remnick]

In the scene in his apartment. You know, it was a lot. It was chaotic. He's currently going through his archives, just the boxes and boxes completely covering the floors. And he's doing this in order to the Library of Congress.

[Charles Strauss]

Yeah, I guess the Library of Congress, which collects life itself. Yeah. They asked me. I mean, I wouldn't ask to do.

[David Remnick]

This, but in this box here, tell me. We found. Oh, my God, it's so heavy. But there's this record from all in the Family.

[Charles Strauss]

I wrote it.

[David Remnick]

Oh, right. The theme song for the show.

[Charles Strauss]

Norman Lear wanted to have a theme, but he couldn't afford a big orchestra. And I brought up the fact that when I was a kid, we all used to sit around and my mother used to play, and so that's how I wrote it. But, boy, the tunes. Glengeller play songs that made the hit parade. Guys like us, we had it made. Those were the days and you knew where you were again that she made up herself. Girls were girls and men were men Mr. We could use Herbert Hoover again. But the song itself, as did the program, became very, very successful.

[David Remnick]

Yeah, you know, there's this huge framed picture of Jay Z and the framed CD and cassette tape from the album. It says, Volume 2, Hard Knock Life. Oh. It says, From 1998.

[John Updike]

From standing on the corners bopping to driving some of the hottest cars New York has ever seen for dropping some of the hottest verses rappers ever heard from the dope spot with the smoke.

[Charles Strauss]

Well, what was it like working with Jay Z? There he is. He was surrounded by bodyguards and all kinds of people. There was finally one point in my life where we got together and sat and talked.

[David Remnick]

Oh. Because he also produced the most recent anime movie remake from 2014.

[Charles Strauss]

I do remember I kind of won his heart in a way, when I said, you gotta bring your wife with you. I was being kind of snotty. And he must have told her that.

[David Remnick]

Beyonce.

[Charles Strauss]

Yeah, it was a nice relationship, but most of the time, he was beyond such a small person as me.

[David Remnick]

You know, in one of the boxes. Where is it, we found a letter from Stephen Sondheim. And there's a funny part to it. Do you mind if I read it?

[John Updike]

Yeah.

[David Remnick]

Okay. So this is dated July 22, 2008. And he says, congratulations on your memoir that was just published. And then he says, quote, I bought a copy yesterday and naturally immediately looked up references to myself. And then he supplies two corrections for you in case there are any future reprintings. He says, was that kind of thing in character for him?

[Charles Strauss]

Stephen and I were friendly enemies. He didn't like me much. I didn't like him less. But on the other hand, I respected him a lot. Steven and I knew each other so long that I stood danger of invading his territory. But even that was not. We wouldn't. We came into two different worlds, but we were very old friends. He was the. He was my oldest friend in the theater.

[Louisa Thomas]

Maybe far away.

[Chloe Melt]

Or maybe be real nearby.

[David Remnick]

I mean, right now, she. Annie, is surrounding us, right? There's posters on the walls and pillows, but also in this box, it's Annie stationary and letterheads. Also, there's the Annie cookie jar on the shelf and this Annie piggy bank with her big, big song, Tomorrow. When you originally wrote it, did you think that you'd struck gold?

[Charles Strauss]

That I. I didn't think. I. I thought that was a disposable item that we needed, necessary to keep the curtain up or down. But so many songs in musicals go through that motion, you know, there. If. If. If a guy is a good theater composer, he learns to kind of think with two voices, so to speak. One is I love you, my darling. The other is I love you, my darling. But keep it going, that song, because we have to bring in the detective soon. I would say Tomorrow falls into that category. I needed some time. It's usually always that way. When you're writing for the theater, the book writer most usually says he needs a song there or you yourself, rather than here's my symphony to the stars.

[David Remnick]

And so you originally thought that that song was disposable, as you said. Now, in hindsight now, like, what do you think it is that makes that song so great?

[Charles Strauss]

I don't know. I mean, maybe I do know. Maybe I'm being modest. I do think I'm talented. I think I write a song and I wanted to please the audience. I didn't know that it was going to be so big. And so I'm very proud if it made its mark.

[David Remnick]

I think that tomorrow with it, there's this, like, beautiful simplicity to it where you can hear it and then, you know, almost, like, sing along with it during each reprise.

[Charles Strauss]

That's what a popular song should do. It should sound as though it was always there, but it never was until you thought of it. And I think Tomorrow came to me that way. It's a complicated melody. I'm looking at posters on my. And a lot of songs I've written that have not been classics like that.

[David Remnick]

I mean, I think that, like, fortunately and unfortunately, when a song gets as big as Tomorrow's gotten and has remained, it gets bigger than you. Right? Your name, in many ways, is no longer associated with it. Has that bothered you in your career?

[Charles Strauss]

Not if I hear this song. No, not really. I mean, I never got what Lenny himself did, Irving Berlin did. No, I never had that luxury. And here's another Charles Strauss song. Now, I never had that kind of reputation. It's a funny thing about composing. It comes from your heart in a way, but it really comes from nowhere. It's God given. I would think that's a God given gift that I've been fortunate enough to get. I'm getting old, you know. Look how I'm walking. I don't play too well. Now the sun will come up tomorrow Betray bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun Just thinking about tomorrow Clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow till there's none When I'm stuck with a day that's grave and lonely I just stick out my chin and grin and say, whoa. That's what I'm talking about tomorrow. So you got to hang on till tomorrow come what may Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.

[David Remnick]

The late Charles Strauss, who died earlier this month, he spoke with Jeffrey Masters in 2023. That's the new Yorker Radio Hour for today. Thanks for listening. Hope you had a great holiday. See you next time.

[Charles Strauss]

I massacred that pretty well.

[David Remnick]

That was fantastic.

[Charles Strauss]

Thank you.

[David Remnick]

The New Yorker Radio Hour is a co production of WNYC Studios and the New Yorker. Our our theme music was composed and performed by Meryl Garbus of Tune Yards with additional music by Louis Mitchell. This episode was produced by Max Balton, Adam Howard, David Krasnow, Jeffrey Masters, Louis Mitchell, Jared Paul and Ursula Summer with guidance from Emily Bottin.

[Charles Strauss]

And we had additional production this week from Jonathan Mitchell.

[Louisa Thomas]

The New Yorker Radio Hour is supported.

[David Remnick]

In part by the Turina Endowment Fund.

[Louisa Thomas]

Welcome to Birch Lane where you can.

[David Remnick]

Find a fresh take on classic furniture and decor. Every piece is hand picked and crafted to last for years to come. At Birch Lane, you can explore everything from outdoor sets to living room furniture and everything in between and get fast free shipping. It's classic style for joyful living. Shop [e-mail].

[Chloe Melt]

My name is Madeline Barron. I'm a journalist for the New Yorker. I focus on stories where powerful people or institutions are doing something that's harming people or harming someone or something in some way. And so my job is to report that so exhaustively that we can reveal what's actually going on and present it to the public. You know, for us at in the Dark, we're paying equal attention to the reporting and the storytelling and we felt a real kinship with the New Yorker, like the combination of the deeply reported stories that the New Yorker is known for, but also the quality of those stories, the attention to narrative. If I could give you only one reason to subscribe to the New Yorker, it would be, maybe this is not the answer you're looking for, but I just don't think that there is any other magazine in America that combines so many different types of things into a single issue as the New Yorker. You know, like, you have poetry, you have theater reviews, you have restaurant recommendations, which for some reason I read even though I don't live in New York City. And all of those things are great, but I haven't even mentioned, like, the other half of the magazine, which is deeply reported stories that honestly are the first things that I read. You know, I'm a big fan of gymnastics and people will say, oh, we were so lucky to live in the era of Simone Biles, which I agree. We're also so lucky to live in the era of Lawrence Wright, Jane Mayer, Ronan Farrow, Patrick Radden, Keefe. And so to me, it's like, I can't imagine not reading these writers.

[Charles Strauss]

You can have all the journalism, the.

[Louisa Thomas]

Fiction, the film, book and TV reviews, all the cartoons just by going right.

[Charles Strauss]

Now to newyorker.com dark plus, there's an incredible archive, a century's worth of award.

[John Updike]

Winning work just waiting for you.

[Charles Strauss]

That's newyorker.com dark and thanks.