{"id":1462,"date":"2010-06-30T15:22:48","date_gmt":"2010-06-30T19:22:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=1462"},"modified":"2010-06-30T15:23:28","modified_gmt":"2010-06-30T19:23:28","slug":"the-end-of-terry-southern-month","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/06\/30\/the-end-of-terry-southern-month\/","title":{"rendered":"The End of Terry Southern Month"},"content":{"rendered":"

As we come to the end of Terry Southern Month<\/a>\u2014and our first month in operation\u2014I wish to thank all of you who wrote in, whether on the comments page or privately, to say how much you love Southern’s work. We had no idea how many other fans were out there. This has been one of those gratifying lessons that only the web can teach.<\/p>\n

Thanks also\u2014equally\u2014to those who hate the stuff, and piped up. We are not in the criticism business at The Paris Review<\/em>. But we believe in it. Here we differ with our friends at The Believer<\/em>: we like snark, when it comes from the gut. It may not be the lifeblood of the arts, but a healthy organism also needs bile, not to mention a gag reflex.<\/p>\n

You haters are going to hate this last piece. We make no apologies for it, but\u2014at the risk of going off the reservation, into lit crit mode\u2014we would like to point out that it makes the author queasy, too. (Even his anti-hero, “Art,” knows enough to be ashamed. Get it, Art?) <\/p>\n

Furthermore, we’d like to observe that this is typical of Southern’s work. His comedy depends on moral ambivalence. He may be turned on by bad behavior\u2014if it weren’t a turn-on, it wouldn’t be bad. Or at least, no one would engage in it. But he knows it for what it is. In a story like the following, he’ll sacrifice good taste, comfort, even laughs for the sake of a truth “too … er, uh, gross<\/em> for a general readership.”<\/p>\n

We trust you are not that. <\/p>\n

\n

Heavy Put-Away or,<\/em> A Hustle Not Wholly Devoid Of A Certain Grossness, Granted<\/p>\n

by Terry Southern<\/p>\n

Recently I was researching an article for a woman\u2019s magazine, whose considerate editor had already entitled it\u2014Con-Men: Their Games And Their NAMES<\/em>\u2014aiming, with the final emphasis for a bit of the old expos\u00e9 mileage no doubt. I had assumed in front that, through editorial pressures, it might gradually get bent into the usual hacksville tom-foolery\u2014a rehash of classic and clich\u00e9d hustles\u2026and, for the most part, so it proved to be. Most, yes, but not all, for there was one conspicuous exception, and it was deleted, totally, from the piece\u2014\u201cbecause of,\u201d in the head-back closed-eyed words of the senior blue-coiffed lady-editor, \u201ccertain elements in the narrative which are simply too, how shall I say, er, uh, gross<\/em> for our general readership.\u201d<\/p>\n

I was really quite surprised. A prevalent real-life hustle \u201ctoo gross\u201d to be exposed? What a curious age we live in.<\/p>\n

In my research I used a small unobtrusive Sony-600, obtaining verbatim recordings of every conversation. The following is the one which was deleted from the piece, and is, I submit, among the most intriguing (albeit outrageous) deceptions presently in vogue, in the U.S. of A.<\/p>\n

The narrator\u2014whom I shall call \u201cArt\u201d\u2014is thirty-four, white, college-grad, unmarried, clean-cut and boyishly good-looking, a type seen mostly in beach-movies\u2026a younger Jack Nicholson; and though he was careful to keep his story always in the third person, even slightly detached, as though describing someone else, I had the recurrent and distinct impression he was talking about himself.<\/p>\n

The interview was taking place on the terrace of the \u201cSow \u2018n Merkin,\u201d a caf\u00e9-restaurant on La Cienega, about two blocks below the Sunset Strip. Only a moderate amount of pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk that passed our table, and whenever a girl would go by, Art\u2019s eyes would flick after her with a warm somewhat carnivorous glint in them, without interrupting his story. He\u2019s also one of those \u201cL.A. types\u201d (no other way to say it) who do coke quite openly\u2014though with consummate discretion, natch\u2014carrying it pre-chopped in an ornate antique-style snuffbox, dipping in with the little finger, for swift unobtrusive toots off the back of the nail\u2026which Art did throughout his narrative, occasionally sliding the box to me across the table. The first time he passed me the box, I glanced around, super-casual, to check out the neighboring tables, but Art was quick to allay my concern.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s cool, man\u201d he said, \u201cno vigilantes here.\u201d He smiled and assumed a cracker draw: \u201cHell, we done strung \u2018em all up.\u201d<\/p>\n

I switched on the Sony-Six, and Art took that (as per intention) to be a signal to begin.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d he said, \u201cnow here\u2019s a funny number a couple of guys I know run from time to time\u2014I\u2019ve been saving it. I mean, it could be a little heavy\u2026for, you know, certain tastes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo way, Art,\u201d I assured him, \u201cyou lay it down, and I\u2019ll pick it up.\u201d<\/p>\n

He chuckled, somewhat cynically now that I think back on it, and then continued:<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, there was this chick\u2014name of Sally<\/em>\u2014very cute, twenty-three, twenty-four years old, worked as a kind of hat-check cigarette-girl at a small club on the Strip. I forget the actual name of the club\u2026it was like the Crescendo<\/em>, one of these you know, with a piano-player, and maybe a combo in for weekends\u2014that kind of place, small but legit\u2026just your \u2018average American bar.\u2019 Anyway, this guy\u2014let\u2019s call him Al\u2014starts coming in, almost every night. Nice looking guy, about thirty-five, sharp dresser, leased Lincoln Continental parked outside. And he\u2019s always quite friendly\u2014not pushy about it, just friendly\u2014you know: \u2018Hi, Ted,\u2019 \u2018Hello Tom,\u2019 \u2018Hi Sally,\u2019 and blah-blah-blah. And so finally he\u2019s like a regular customer, coming in nearly every evening. Comes in before dinner, has a couple of drinks, and splits. Now he\u2019s gradually getting fairly tight with Sally, the hat-check cigarette-girl\u2014no heavy come-on, nothing like that, just sort of a pal<\/em>. And one night, a slow night, she\u2019s sitting at the bar with him, having a drink, and he lays this story on her\u2026about a friend<\/em> of his\u2014an older guy, a terrific guy, friend of the family, a sort of \u2018surrogate father\u2019 is the way he put it\u2014who\u2019s coming in from New York in a week or so. And he goes on to describe this guy, in a very flattering terms\u2014an important businessman, a well-known financier, a major executive of a huge corporation, on the board of directors of several big companies, seat on the New York Stock Exchange, private plane, and so forth. And he tells her how the guy comes to California on business two or three times a year, and that when he does, he likes to have a discreet affair<\/em> with someone\u2014not a hooker<\/em>, he isn\u2019t interested in that at all\u2014he wants someone, well, like someone to talk<\/em> to, and to spend a pleasant evening with. \u2018He\u2019s good for a thou,\u2019 Al said, \u2018a thousand bucks for the evening, and usually a nice gift of some kind besides.\u2019 Al knows all about it, because he has arranged it for him before, several times\u2014so he was able to assure her that it was \u2018strictly legit\u2019, and what\u2019s more that if she didn\u2019t like<\/em> the guy she could just split, she didn\u2019t actually have to make it with him. Naturally, he hoped<\/em> it would happen, but it wasn\u2019t really critical, I mean it wasn\u2019t going to be a deal-breaker if she didn\u2019t let him fuck her\u2014because he was happily married, had a wonderful family\u2014wife, children, grandchildren, the whole bit\u2014it was just that he liked the excitement of, you know, meeting a nice young girl from time to time, and so on\u2026made him feel younger<\/em>, whatever. Anyway, he went on to say that he, Al, knew that the guy would like<\/em> Sally, and he wondered if she would be interested\u2014a thousand bucks for a couple of hours, probably a nice present, and after she got there, if she decided she didn\u2019t want to make it with him, that would be okay, she could just leave. Well, right away she said no<\/em>, it wasn\u2019t the sort of thing she would be interested in, ever<\/em>, and he said \u2018Well, no offense,\u2019 and she said \u2018None taken,\u2019 and he took her to dinner, never mentioned it again, took her home, didn\u2019t hit on her in any way, didn\u2019t come in for coffee or a drink, said he had an early appointment, had to get to bed, and that was that. Saw her the next few nights at the club, never referred to it again.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow then, parallel to this<\/em>, there was a young couple living in the Valley\u2014the guy was a stunt-man, or let\u2019s say an ex<\/em>-stunt man, with a broken back<\/em>\u2026 had taken a fall, a big<\/em> fall, landed on a Chapman crane\u2026crushed his back. So he\u2019s laid up\u2014totalled<\/em>. Now the tie-in is that the stunt-man had married this girl\u2019s best friend, Sally\u2019s best friend, about a year and a half before this. Bill and Mary, that was their names, and they had this kid, and the kid was about a month old<\/em>\u2014a one-month-old kid\u2014like an infant<\/em>. Now the guy, Bill, had broken his back about six or seven months ago, so for the last four months they\u2019ve been in heavy trouble. I mean, they bought a house, furniture, two cars<\/em>\u2014all the usual stuff\u2014during the first six months they were married\u2026and then he busted his back. But the studio wasn\u2019t liable, because it was some kind of unauthorized stunt, whatever, so he wasn\u2019t getting any workmen\u2019s comp. I mean, he really got ripped on the whole thing\u2014wasn\u2019t getting any<\/em> money. And they had all these medical<\/em> bills\u2014for his back, and for her having the kid, plus<\/em> all the regular bills\u2014the car payments, mortgage payments, insurance payments, everything<\/em>. And, of course, she can\u2019t work because of having the kid, and he\u2019s lying around\u2014they don\u2019t know yet if he\u2019s going to be a full-on paralytic or not\u2014just lying there in a full-body cast<\/em>, with the wife and the new-born baby, and they\u2019re starving<\/em>. No bread at all, being dunned by everybody\u2014about to get killed<\/em> by the house-payments guy, the car-payments guy, the guys with the furniture, TV\u2026all of it. Murder<\/em>. Wipeout<\/em>. Now the wife, Mary, she would call the other girl, Sally, and the could talk<\/em>, on the phone\u2026it was really the high point of her day, her conversations with Sally, the hat-check girl. You see, she could never get out of the house because she was stuck with the paralyzed husband and the kid. Actually, she was very much in love<\/em> with her husband\u2014which is what gives this whole story a certain \u2018je ne sais quoi<\/em>,\u2019 ha\u2014I mean it wasn\u2019t like she was being a ball-breaker about it, it was just a really terrible<\/em> situation. And so she was sort of living vicariously on the phone, through her friend Sally, who would tell her all about her day\u2014her night<\/em> actually\u2014at the club\u2026you know, who came in with who, etcetera\u2026and so on that same level, or just interesting day-to-day trivia, she mentions the guy, Al, and the proposition he made\u2014but only referring to it as something that happened at the club, no more than that. But a couple of days later, Mary calls and says that she\u2019s been thinking<\/em> about that thing, that proposition<\/em>. \u2018It\u2019s horrible, I know,\u2019 she says, \u2018but we\u2019re just so desperate that I think maybe I ought to do it\u2014I mean, you know, if you think he would want to.\u2019 Well, Sally knew<\/em> the guy would go for Mary, because she was even better looking than Sally was. But she said, \u2018Well, what about Bill<\/em>? What\u2019s he<\/em> going to say?\u2019 And Mary says, \u2018Well, he won\u2019t say anything, because he won\u2019t know<\/em>. I mean, I\u2019ll just tell him I\u2019ve got to go to this meeting<\/em>, or something like that, and then maybe you can come over and pick me up, and you know, take me there\u2014and when it\u2019s over I\u2019ll have the money and take a cab home\u2026and well, he\u2019ll just never know anything about it. I mean, I realize it\u2019s terrible, and I hate it, but I just don\u2019t know what else to do<\/em>.\u2019 Because she really did love<\/em> the guy, of course, and that\u2019s the key to it, of you see\u2014the whole caper\u2014that she\u2019s this totally innocent person, this very nice girl<\/em>, who is really in love with her husband, and had never dreamed<\/em> of making it with anyone else, or with anyone for money<\/em>, ever, but their terrible circumstances\u2014and the amount<\/em> of money being offered\u2026well, it was tempting<\/em>. Of course Sally was completely surprised, she could hardly believe it. \u2018Mary,\u2019 she says, \u2018I don\u2019t think you should do it\u2014I mean it\u2019s too weird, it might affect your relationship with Bill\u2014even if he didn\u2019t<\/em> find out about it.\u2019 And Mary starts crying and says, \u2018Yes, I know, I know\u2026I guess you\u2019re right, it\u2019s just that I\u2019m so desperate\u2026\u2019 And she cries for a little bit on the phone, and Sally cries, and then they drop the subject, and that\u2019s the end of it\u2014except that a few days later, when they\u2019re about to turn off the electricity<\/em>, Mary calls Sally and says, \u2018I know it\u2019s crazy, but that thousand dollar thing\u2014with the older man from New York\u2014could you try to find out more about it?\u2019 And she tells her about the electricity, and everything. So the next time Al comes in the club, Sally asks him if he\u2019s found a girl yet for his friend. And Al says, \u2018No, as a matter of fact I haven\u2019t, and the guy is coming out in about a week, and I\u2019m getting a little nervous about it.\u2019 And so Sally tells him about her friend Mary, who she says is sort of thinking<\/em> about it. And she goes on to describe her\u2014\u2018a very beautiful, really nice, nice<\/em> girl, who loves her husband very much,\u2019 and so on, but that they have these terrible financial problems, and she tells the whole story to Al\u2014the guy\u2019s broken back, the electricity about to be shut off, and so on, and asks him, Al, to tell her more about the guy. So he lays this heavy rap on her again about what a wonderful, gentle, sweet, attractive, generous man this guys is. \u2018I mean, she\u2019s really going to like<\/em> him a lot,\u2019 he says, \u2018he\u2019s a truly nice man<\/em>. And if she doesn\u2019t<\/em> like him, you know, she can just leave.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u201cSo they set the thing up. The cover story, for Bill, was that Mary was going out for the evening with a girl-friend, to see a movie. She would go out at seven\u2014the baby would have had its bottle by then, and she would put it next to the husband on the bed, because he can barely get around\u2014he can move<\/em>, but it wasn\u2019t the easiest thing to do, you dig, in this full-body cast<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow then, Al gives Sally full instructions about how it\u2019s to be done. Discretion<\/em>, that was the main concern\u2014you\u2019ve got to be discreet<\/em>. This was because the guy doesn\u2019t want to be seen in the lobby of the hotel, or anything like that. He\u2019s staying<\/em> at the hotel, but he feels it will be more discreet and more comfortable, and so on, if they do their thing in a bungalow<\/em>. So Mary is to book it, Bungalow ten, a big mother, at the Beverly Hills Hotel, book it in her name, go there, sign in and register. Bring a bag, and in the bag have a couple of bottles of really fine Scotch, and a bottle of good brandy. Get some mixer\u2014club soda, and some ice, wrap it all in a towel so it doesn\u2019t rattle, and put it in the best bag she\u2019s got, check in, and go to the bungalow. \u2018Listen,\u2019 she asks Sally, \u2018where am I going to get money<\/em> for the whiskey?\u2019 Well, Sally was short and couldn\u2019t come up with it, so she went to a neighbor, whom she barely knew, and said she was desperate<\/em>, she had<\/em> to raise fifty dollars, could she<\/em> loan it to her. So the neighbor took the money out of her sugar bowl, but emphasized that she would have to have it back the next day<\/em>, because it was the household-money<\/em> and so on. And then Mary didn\u2019t have a really smart bag, so she borrowed that from Sally\u2014who picked her up on her way to the hatcheck-joint, and dropped her at the Beverly Hills Hotel, where she had already called up and reserved Bungalow ten. The boy took the bag to the bungalow, showed her in, and she waited there. See, the idea of bringing the booze in was that the guy didn\u2019t want anybody coming to the room while he was there, because of the big discretion thing\u2014him being a famous person, well-known at the Beverly Hills Hotel\u2014and he just couldn\u2019t afford any indiscretion at all<\/em>. So she, Mary, was instructed to get there at about seven, order a nice dinner for herself, anything she wanted\u2014he recommended the pheasant, and a particular wine, very expensive\u2014and he would eat elsewhere and then join her at about nine. And that way they would avoid the whole room-service scene and any risk of him being recognized. So she went to the hotel, about six-thirty, registered her<\/em> name, went to the bungalow, had the pheasant, the wine, etcetera, signed the check, and waited. Then, at about nine, he<\/em> called. \u2018Is everything all right?\u2019 trying to sound pleasant and cheerful. He says that he\u2019ll come down now, down from his room, and meet her, if it\u2019s convenient. She says, yes of course, and so he arrives in a few minutes\u2014and he\u2019s a really nice attractive<\/em> guy, very thoughtful and considerate and cultured<\/em>. So the anxiety she had felt began to disappear. See, she had been getting sort of panicky about it. I mean, she hadn\u2019t been to bed with anybody in about six months<\/em>, because of her husband\u2019s busted back, and then she\u2019d had the baby\u2026and so this was going to be the first fuck<\/em> she\u2019s had in quite a while, and she was kind of uptight about it, about the whole thing, but he really put her at ease, and began to sort of draw her out, and she told him all about her husband and about the baby, and all the depressing stuff about their situation, and she cried a little bit, and he was terrific\u2014perfect father-guy, and she found him attractive, and they drank some of the booze, and then they went to bed, and it was okay. I mean, it wasn\u2019t in any way sordid or vile, or anything like that, and she really dug him, and he was very interested in her and said that he understood there had been this money arrangement, this thousand dollars, and that was fine, but he didn\u2019t want that to be the main thing. He\u2019d gotten to really like her<\/em>, he said, and he wanted to take an active part in helping her and her husband out of this predicament, and maybe even taken an interest in the child<\/em>, the child\u2019s education and so on. And they talked some more and made love again, and now it was about eleven o\u2019clock<\/em>, and he takes out this ring<\/em>\u2014this beautiful diamond ring<\/em>\u2014and he tells her that he bought it for his daughter\u2019s birthday, and he wants to know what she thinks of it. And she says, \u2018Well, it\u2019s really beautiful<\/em>. Absolutely fabulous<\/em>.\u2019 It\u2019s still in the velvet case, you know, and he says, \u2018Well, you see, I\u2019d like you<\/em> to have one just like it, because I think you\u2019re a blah-blah-blah wonderful girl and the ring really suits you,\u2019 and blah-blah-blah. It\u2019s a big stone, very impressive. \u2018Oh, I couldn\u2019t,\u2019 she says. \u2018Don\u2019t be silly,\u2019 he says, \u2018I insist.\u2019 Then he gets on the phone and calls the jeweler at the jeweler\u2019s home. \u2018Yes, you know the ring I bought this afternoon\u2014well, I\u2019m leaving first thing in the morning, and I want to get another one like it. Could you come over to the hotel now? No, I\u2019ve got an early flight, and I just won\u2019t have any time at all tomorrow. Yes, the same ring exactly. Just call Bungalow ten when you get here and I\u2019ll meet you in the lobby and pick it up. No, I don\u2019t know the size, so bring an assortment, and we\u2019ll determine the size when you get here. All right, see you soon. Thank you.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, from her point of view, everything has gone just great\u2014she\u2019ll have the money<\/em>, she\u2019ll have the ring<\/em>, she has this fantastic new friend<\/em> who\u2019s going to be like a godfather to the child, and help them all out, and so on. Now<\/em> her only concern is how she will handle it in terms of her husband, how to explain about the money and about the ring. And the guy advises her on that, too\u2014he asks how well does her husband know her background. Is it conceivable for instance, that she had an aunt or uncle, that Bill didn\u2019t know about, who could have died and left it to her? She thinks about this for a minute, and says yes it is<\/em> possible, there could have been this aunt in Youngstown<\/em>, or someplace\u2026so that little problem is settled. Now it\u2019s about twelve-thirty, and the phone rings. It\u2019s the jeweler, down in the lobby. The guy starts out, to go meet him and pick up the ring, and just as he gets to the door, the instant before he goes out, he remembers about not knowing her ring size, so she takes off her wedding-ring and gives it to him so he can match it for size. He says he\u2019ll have a quick drink with the jeweler, in the Polo Lounge, just to be sociable, pick up the ring and be back in ten minutes or so, probably less. So she turns on the TV, finishes getting dressed, and sits there waiting for him. Time passes. One-thirty, two-thirty\u2026three-fifteen. She starts to get panicky, calls the Polo Lounge, the Lounge in closed. Calls the desk, asks for his room\u2014he isn\u2019t registered, they never heard of him. Never<\/em>. Now she calls Sally at the club. Closed. Calls Sally\u2019s house. No answer. So she\u2019s sitting there, alone, four o\u2019clock in the morning, no money, a hundred and ninety-five dollar hotel bill\u2026desperation time. Finally, nothing left but to bottom-line it\u2014call the husband<\/em>. She tells him where she is\u2014Bungalow ten at the Beverly Hills Hotel\u2014he\u2019ll have to pick her up because there\u2019s no money for a cab, and there\u2019s no way to get<\/em> a cab without alerting the hotel that she\u2019s about to skip. So\u2014now dig this\u2014the husband, Bill, wearing his full body-cast<\/em>, moving like something out of a horror movie, has to wake this neighbor<\/em> he doesn\u2019t even know very well, at four in the morning, borrow his car<\/em>, put the baby on the seat beside him, try<\/em> to drive from the Valley to Beverly Hills, cruise the hotel until she can sneak out\u2014without the bag in case she\u2019s spotted\u2014get in the car, and drive back<\/em>. And on the way back, she has to tell him what happened<\/em>\u2026 about the money she owes the hotel, the neighbor, the bag she has to replace, the wedding-ring\u2026and you know, man, the whole story<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

And with that, the sun sinking behind the Hollywood hills silhouetting him, Art gave me his All-American, boss-charm, hero-of-many-battles smile. \u201cNow, I ask you,\u201d he said softly, sliding the snuffbox across the table, \u201cwasn\u2019t that a heavy put-away<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n

We sat in silence then, watching the sun slowly go down, and having a few unobtrusive toots.<\/p>\n

\u201cListen,\u201d I finally said, \u201cthose guys\u2026they must have been really\u2026well, one thing I\u2019m a little hazy<\/em> about is just how to characterize their motivation<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

Art smiled, raising his brows, as in surprise. \u201cOh yeah?\u201d He turned his eyes towards the distant hills, where the last rays of the sun bled out all along the horizon\u2014but he didn\u2019t reply.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d I went on, \u201cI think you\u2019ll agree there is a certain ambiguity here\u2026I mean, let\u2019s just run it down in a re-cap\u2014what did they get out of it? Okay, one<\/em>: the guy gets laid<\/em>, by a beautiful young girl\u2014that\u2019s<\/em> a plus\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA really nice<\/em> girl,\u201d added Art, nodding his head to emphasize that aspect of it.<\/p>\n

\u201cRight. A beautiful young really nice<\/em> girl\u2026who hasn\u2019t made it with anyone in six months. Okay, that\u2019s all a definite plus. But is that enough\u2014to justify such an elaborate ruse? I mean, what else<\/em> did they get out of it?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at me, with something close to pity. \u201cI should\u2019ve thought it was obvious,\u201d he said, a slightly painted smile on his lips.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, let\u2019s see, there was her wedding ring<\/em>\u2014probably a simple, narrow gold band\u2014what was that<\/em> worth? Fifty bucks? A hundred?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA hundred tops,\u201d said Art, \u201cprobably less.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that doesn\u2019t seem like much\u2026for all that trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed. \u201cYou\u2019ve got a pretty materialistic<\/em> slant on things, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

As we come to the end of Terry Southern Month\u2014and our first month in operation\u2014I wish to thank all of you who wrote in, whether on the comments page or privately, to say how much you love Southern’s work. We had no idea how many other fans were out there. This has been one of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[29],"tags":[340,342,341,30],"class_list":["post-1462","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-terry-southern-month","tag-gag-reflex","tag-heavy-put-away","tag-moral-ambivalence","tag-terry-southern"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nThe End of Terry Southern Month by Lorin Stein<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"June 30, 2010 \u2013 As we come to the end of Terry Southern Month\u2014and our first month in operation\u2014I wish to thank all of you who wrote in, whether on the comments page or\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" 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